Press Release

43: Sustained Release

"I love you, Harry Edward Styles," she states with such sincerity that tears spring to my eyes.

Of course I know she can't mean it. Not really. It's too early in our relationship. She's had a rough and emotional day. We've just had some amazing sex (which, let's face it, is always mind-blowing with Minnie and me). But she can't be cognizant of her words right now. There is no way I would hold her accountable for what she says at this point.

Pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth, I step into the loo to ditch the condom and gather my thoughts. Because as much as I know the words have no meaning, I want them to be true. In the moment that she said them, my heart swelled, and I ached to reply "I love you too". But the last time I said that to a woman was.....well, yeah. You know. Misty.

My hand covers my eyes, fighting to keep the tears in because if I go out there right now, she will wrongly surmise that I don't feel the same way when.....dammit. I do love her. She's changed my life. We can laugh together but we can also sit silently next to each other and just.....EXIST. That never happened with Misty.

It's why I love Jeff and Nick and Mitch so dearly. I can be in the same room with any of them, and no one has to say a word. We can just share space without filling it with noise. It's a luxury that I haven't experienced with many people outside of my family. Minnie lends me her quiet strength on rough days and cheers me on when I'm having a good day. All without speaking.

She will need a little time to process the idea of having children, but she's on board with the idea. I know she is. And if she hadn't been on an emotional roller coaster right now, I would gladly have impregnated her tonight. However many times it takes to get the job done. (Can you see my smirk?)

Less than a year ago, I was lamenting the idea that not a single woman of my acquaintance was one with whom I would want to have children. Because kids mean a lifetime commitment. Having been part of a split family, I am determined never to put my children through that if I can help it.

But now I have a woman in my life with whom I honestly could see myself raising little ones. Our babies would be so beautiful. Her bone structure is exquisite, and she's such a talented listener and empathizer. Passing those qualities onto the next generation of Styles is essential.

Wow. I do love her. The feeling washes over me in waves, and for a moment I think I'm going to puke. Resting my hand against the wall, I breathe shallowly until the feeling passes. Is that what love is supposed to feel like? Is it supposed to make you double over with nausea?

Having no idea how long I've stood in the loo, I'm startled when there's a knock on the door.

"Harry? Are you okay?"

Opening the door to her, I sheepishly wipe a hand down my face. Naked, she stands in front of me, and all I want to do is fall to my knees and worship her. So I do. Wrapping my arms around her waist, I rest my head against her belly button. She tangles her fingers in my hair.

As is her typical response, though, she says nothing. Just allows me to rest against her, both of us naked and vulnerable. Asking no questions, she eventually places her hands on either side of my head, pulling me away from her so that I'm looking into her eyes. And suddenly, she's kneeling on the floor across from me. (Thank goodness it's carpeted here. Yes, I know that's not a romantic thought, but sometimes one has to be practical.)

Her hands have not left my head as she moves into position across from me, and now she pushes my bangs from my forehead before kissing me deeply.

"I meant it," she whispers, "but because it probably scared you, I'll say it again in the morning. And in the afternoon. And tomorrow night. And next week. And next year. I'll say it as often as it takes for you to believe it. I love you, Harry."