Kiwis | Harry Styles

Forty-One

I turn to pick up my glass of water and my arm bumps into my husband. His hand automatically tightening around my waist.

"Where you goin'?"

"Nowhere," my voice clips back, "just thirsty." I temper my emotions and force a smile as I wrap my fingers around my drink.

"You okay?" he says as he moves in closer. His nose brushes along my neck, followed by his soft lips.

"I'm fine, Harry," I reply while removing myself from his grasp.

"You need -"

"I don't need anything. I'm hot. Thirsty. And I need to pee." I shoo away his hands, which are reaching for my hips again as I walk towards the bathroom.

Once I step inside and make sure there's nobody else occupying the stalls, I let out a yell of pure frustration, my palms slamming down on either side of the sink. For once, I don't need the toilet. I just need some space. My eyes flit along the bank of empty mirrors and then come to rest on my own reflection. "What is wrong with you?" I ask before shaking my head. No. This is Harry's problem. He's the one who's been clinging to me for days and I'm not just talking about being affectionate. He literally hasn't let me breathe for three days.

Setting up my cameras. He's there.

Cooking. He's right beside me.

I want to go for a walk. He wants to go for a walk.

Every time I turn around he's bloody there.

I bet he's bloody outside this door. Waiting. My head swivels to the door in question and I wonder how long before he comes in here looking for me?

I haven't even finished the thought when the door swings open.

"Jesus! Fu -"

"Mum! Are you okay?" My middle daughter asks and I have to hold in the scream I want to let go because Harry must've asked that question at least a million times in the last 72 hours.

"I'm okay, sweetie. You?"

"Fine. Just got to pee." Her eyes glance from me to the empty sink and back again before she enters the cubicle and I hear the lock click closed. I doubt she bought that lie.

I run the tap and quickly wash and dry my hands. Run my fingers through my unruly waves and take a deep breath before exiting the bathroom.

I glance left and right and feel a weight lift from my shoulders when there's no sign of him.

"Baby?" He yells less than two steps later and I feel like a balloon that just got pricked with a needle. Deflated.

"Where are you going?"

That's probably the second most asked question after "you okay?"

"I don't know, Harry. Haven't really decided. I might go have something to eat. You?"

"I'm hungry too. Canteen? Or we could go out somewhere? There's this lovely little Italian place a few streets away," he slings his arm around my waist again and I mentally tick through my excuses. God knows I love this man, but I need some space, something which he's usually so good at giving me. Knowing when I need to be left alone and when I need attention is one of this man's many super powers. So why is it failing him now? Anxiety about the twins? Maybe he's still feeling guilty about the time we spent apart?

Maybe it's time I bit the bullet and confronted this problem before my frustration lets it rip from me and some feelings really get hurt.

"Italian sounds lovely," I smile. I hope my courage doesn't falter between now and arriving at the restaurant.