Dear Dulcie [h.s.]

My Baby; Maple Syrup.

Today's agenda is a visit to a restaurant that overlooks the English coastline, one of my favourite places in town, and luckily Odette has never been before so after I serve her a late breakfast we will be taking a small walk uphill to get to the restaurant. After my emotional breakdown last night the lads did their very best to take my mind off of the upcoming decision I will be making and tried to focus my attention on the evening ahead, we watched a film that Niall had found online rated at four stars and ate our body weight in crisps, pizza and popcorn - the ultimate movie night compilation.

When I arrived home Odette was nowhere to be seen as I had expected, the lads calmed me down well and my heart wasn't as nervous as it was when she left, I'd received multiple messages from her telling me how things were going and that she was safe, so I decided to leave her to have some freedom away from my incessant and overbearing behaviours over the last few months. Odette's could-you-pick-us-up message came at about half two in the morning during my light nap, she gave me the time and place and when I arrived it was a sight to behold.

My baby. Drunk.

I should let her go out more often, it was absolutely hilarious and something I will, most definitely, never let her live down. Odette's balance was completely thrown and if I wasn't as encapsulated by her devilish behaviour I would have been more concerned; she looked like a balloon wobbling in the wind and her hangover this morning has taken a most vicious turn; I hear her groan beneath the bedsheets, my chipper attitude almost toxic to her as she resents my happiness. 'Harry, stop smiling. This isn't funny.'

"On the contrary, I'm finding it quite hilarious. I rarely ever see you pissed so this is a novelty. I'm telling our kids when they're older, that should teach them not to drink." I glance down at the picture I'd taken of her sleeping on my phone and vow to plaster it all over our children's rooms when they turn eighteen with the caption, 'drinking is bad.'

'You're not supposed to be mocking me you're supposed to be looking after me.' She argues, her eyes shielded from the morning light by the crook of her arm.

I put my phone away and glance back down to her, the sight unforgettable, "just because Dr Richards said you could drink, it doesn't mean that you should abuse the power. You should hang around with me more, I'm a sober and responsible adult, hopefully my pristine behaviour will rub off on you." I raise my eyebrows as she frowns at me, and somehow I'm unable to filter the next thing that gushes from my mouth, "among other things..."

'You're gross.' I smile, her eyes fully covered from my view and I know there's no point in replying, she won't pay attention after that, but it was totally worth it.

Grease spits from the frying pan in the kitchen as I make my way through our apartment and back to my previous job, you can't go wrong with a full English breakfast after a hangover, and this will be Odette's first so I'm definitely going with tradition. I use a spatula to flip our eggs and strategically turn them back onto the grill, it's just the right amount of crunch, I'm sure she will love it. After laying out all of the condiments, as well as our cutlery, onto a tray for both my wife and I, I precede in the direction of our bedroom, knowing that Odette won't be moving anytime soon.

"Here you go." I place her tray on her lap as she attempts to sit up in the best and most comfortable way possible, she smiles absentmindedly at the small yellow rose that I placed in a size appropriate vase.

'What is it?' She asks, staring down at my culinary masterpiece.

"It's a full English breakfast, made by your one true love."

'It looks gross Harry.'

"Hey don't knock it until you try it, now eat up."

I smile over to my wife and watch the space where her hands have just occupied, thinking forward to how different everything is going to be, "you won't be needing to sign soon." I state in regards to her signing, with the receivers being turned on in a few weeks Odette will be able to hear in close proximity and her use for signing will slowly become non-existent. I notice the dip between her eyebrows and I can tell that she is arguing with herself, "what's wrong?"