Delicate

Chapter 88

HAVEN MCQUEEN
October 2022

"Harry, when are you getting married?"

"Are you pregnant again, Haven?"

"Will you two have more kids soon?"

"Can we get a smile?"

I raise my clutch to hide my face from the strobing camera flashes, holding onto Harry's hand as he reaches back for me to guide the way into the restaurant. There are fans everywhere and I can hear them crying and screaming Harry's name over the questions being shouted at us until we're finally inside the restaurant. My eyes are still adjusting to the dark without the flashing lights, blinking rapidly as the hostess says we can follow her to our table.

"Hi, Harry!" A table full of young women waves at him, to which he raises his hand to wave back with a simple "hello" in return.

"Your waiter will be right with you," the hostess places our small menus on the table. "Enjoy."

"Thank you," I scoot my chair closer to the table while Harry moves closer to me.

"Are you alright?" He has that concerned frown on his face. "That was a lot."

"It's okay," I nod, though my heart is still racing from the claustrophobia of being sandwiched between him and the security trying to keep the fans and paparazzi at a distance from us. "Do I look pregnant?"

He rolls his eyes not at me, but at the rude question, I'm sure. "No, you don't look pregnant in the slightest. I don't know what the fuck that question was for."

"Mhm," I sit up straight and resist the urge to touch my stomach over my skin-tight dress to make sure there's no bump of any kind.

Our waiter then comes out of nowhere to fill our tall tumbler glasses with ice water. "Can I get you something besides water to drink?"

"Can I have a margarita with a salt rim, please? A strong one."

He laughs even though I'm not kidding, then turns to Harry. "And for you, sir?"

"Just tequila on ice, please," Harry nods, and we're left alone again.

"A strong one, huh?" He smirks, alluding back to the question as to whether or not I'm okay.

"It's been a while," I shrug and blot my glossy lips together, smiling as our waiter brings by a small basket of fresh bread before going to get our drinks from the bar.

Rather than an Italian place, per usual, we opted for a steakhouse tonight and I guess we didn't anticipate how busy it was going to be even on a Thursday night. Then again, it's one of the more popular restaurants in LA, but that's why I wanted to go. My mom and dad went recently and said it was to die for so I wanted to see what the hype was all about. I didn't think to ask how exclusive it was, but I guess maybe I should have.

"Can you believe it's been five years?" He asks, bringing me back to the moment as our drinks are placed in front of us.

I blink at him as he blinks at me, and I don't think either of us can believe it. "Five years? Really?"

"Yes," he laughs. "I asked you to be my girlfriend on October 30th, 2017. In London. After my show. And before my mum caught us in bed together the next morning."

"Oh my God," I bring my hand to my forehead. "It wasn't even that bad, don't say it like that."

"You were the one acting like she walked in on something terrible," he accuses me with a smirk.