Epilogue (I)

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ISABELLA

8 Months Later – August

It was hot. Weirdly hot. It was late August and it shouldn't be this hot. The outside thermometer read that it was reaching thirty degrees Celsius, but adding on my current state, it felt like it was closer to forty. To top it all off, our trusty fan decided it was time to break down. I was beginning to believe that God himself was trying to torture me.

Sitting inside our newly open book shop, I kept the front door open hoping that a breeze from the sea would make its way inside. I could feel it but it still wasn't enough.

This is the end for me. I'm about to die. I am sure of it.

Customers came and went few of them buying anything. It was as if the moment they walked into the store they knew they walked into Satan's lair and wanted to get out as quick as they could. I didn't blame them. I was ready to get out, too.

"I'm back," Harry announced as he walked inside. His sunglasses were sat on top of his head, pushing his hair back, and revealing a thin layer of sweat on his brow. He was carrying a box underneath one arm, and a plastic bag in the other. "For you: chocolate chunk and raspberry cheesecake gelato...that's what you wanted right? I couldn't remember."

He placed the bag on top of the counter; my mouth began to salivate just by looking at it. "That's what I wanted." I nodded, already pulling out two white containers. "I asked for them both to be put in one container."

"Yes, don't worry. I made sure they knew that I have a very pregnant fiancée waiting and that she was specific about how she wanted her gelato," Harry laughed. "The bottom one is for me since you won't let me eat from yours."

"Well I am eating for two," I tell him. I open up the lid and with a spoon in hand, I began to dig in. Harry coughs, gaining my attention. "What?"

"Don't I get a thank you? I had to carry that and this big, heavy box with a new fan all by myself...in the hot sun. I deserve a kiss at least," he explains with a small pout.

Rolling my eyes, I turn around and slide off the stool. Being eight months pregnant had made it difficult to get up and down, but I had somehow managed. "Fine, come here."

With a cheshire grin, Harry skips over to where I am and puckers his lips. I give him a quick kiss. Before I can turn around, he pulls me back in, his hand gently placed behind my head, and gives me a longer kiss. I smile into it and shake my head, "You're so needy."

Harry doesn't reply, instead he leans his head forward, kissing the top of my bump, "And one for you, baby girl." I can't hold in the big grin from spreading across my lips.

When I had found out that I was pregnant, we were shocked. It hadn't been our plan to be pregnant. We just got engaged and were already excited to get married. We had already decided that we were going to move back to the UK. Harry had surprised me with an engagement gift of a bookstore in Brighton that we would run together. A friend of Dylan's was going to sell it and Harry was quick to make an offer. It was a small shop in the lanes, with a two bedroom apartment above. We were going to move in, take over the bookstore, and begin planning our wedding.

That was the plan. That was my plan – be married first and then have a kid. However, we quickly... or should I say I quickly realized that plans were meant to be changed.

Here we were now. Four months living in Brighton, with a bookstore of my dreams, and a little bean in the oven. Well, less of a bean, more of a pineapple. I don't think I've come to terms with it yet, but overall I was happy. We both were happy. It was crazy to think that in one month this little girl will be here, in our arms. That's the thought that made everything worth it - the plans that were changed, and our wedding put on hold. None of that mattered when I thought about how amazing our life was going to be in a month's time. 

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