We're Having Our Baby

One

Emma's P.O.V.

On our third anniversary, Harry proposed to me on the stage at Madison Square Garden during dress rehearsal for his final show on tour. To say I was surprised would be an understatement. We had talked about marriage and starting a family before, but I wasn't expecting his proposal to be serenading me with my favorite of his songs on the world's most famous stage. It's been a few months since then and we're still planning the wedding, which is coming up faster than we thought. Harry and I have spent the last hour in bed trying to determine the guest list. We both agreed on having a small ceremony, but Harry has a lot of friends. Come to find out, our ideas of "small, close friends and family only," are very different.

"I'm getting tired, can we finish this tomorrow? I just want to take a shower and go to bed," I tell Harry.

"Yeah, we can do that. I'm going to call Gemma and make sure I didn't leave out any family members who should be there."

"Fine, but I really don't want more than seventy-five people there. We'll have to order more chairs, we already have to narrow down a huge guest list for the reception, and I-,"

"Babe, go take a shower" Harry interrupts, "We don't need to worry about this anymore tonight, I'm sorry."

"Okay," I respond, leaning in for a quick kiss before getting up to enter the bathroom. Once I get to the bathroom, I leave the door cracked open so that the mirrors don't fog up. I then turn on the faucet and start stripping of my clothes, discarding them into the overflowing hamper. I've been so stressed and emotional lately that the house has become a mess. We haven't done laundry in two weeks and I don't even remember the last time we ran the dishwasher.

I step into the shower and the feeling of the hot water on my shoulders is so relaxing that I could stay under it all night. I decide that I'm too tired for a long shower though, so I get to washing so that I can sleep sooner. When I'm done and drying off, I look in the mirror and can't help but think I look a little different than normal.

"Harry," I call out, "come here."

Harry is quick to respond as I hear footsteps as soon as I yell his name.

"Are you okay?" He pops his head in, looking at me with concerned brows.

"Yeah, just come here. Do I look different to you?" I ask, dropping the towel.

"Baby, you always look sexy as fu-"

"Harry! I'm being serious," I struggle not to laugh as Harry's smirk fades. "Do you think I'm gaining weight?"

"What? No. Even if you were, you're still absolutely stunning," Harry says, coming up behind me to wrap his arms around my chest.

"Ugh, Harry can you be serious for one minute? I'm not asking for compliments I just want to know if you think I look bigger. If so, I need to meet with Harry (Lambert) again for my dress..."

"I think you look the same as you always do, darling. If it eases your worries, I can text Harry in the morning to schedule another fitting. Now, let's go to bed." he says, kissing the top of my head where his chin had been resting.

"Thank you."

"Anything for you, my love."

After drying my hair, I turn off the lights and join Harry in bed. He opens his arms for me, and I rest my head on his chest as his hands run through my damp hair. I missed this feeling; I feel like we haven't really had any intimate moments like this for a while. Harry has been trying to wrap up a few songs in the studio before the wedding and I've been cramming to plan for said wedding while he's both away and at home.