Wish You Were Here - Part 3

Chapter 29

HARRY'S POV

I reach out again in an attempt to at least graze my fingertips against Liv's skin, certain the warmth of her will calm my aching heart and settle my mind.

She allows my arms and body to engulf her momentarily, her hands still cover her eyes as she sucks in jagged breaths through her cries.

I'm reeling by how distraught she is as her frame trembles in my arms and I try and comfort her the best I can while my own heart is tearing to shreds.

"s'okay, Liv," I whisper but it comes out shaky and unconvincing.

Her hands leave her swollen blue eyes and connect with my chest as she sobs and shoves me back and away from her with a strangled whine.

This is what she does, what she's always done, she hurts and she pushes me away, physically, mentally, emotionally.

I witnessed it first, that horrible day she found out Emma had died and it was even more apparent when the scandal with Adriana had happened, she completely shut down and shut me out.

Everyone deals with grief and heartbreak differently.

I automatically want to drink, self destructively trying to wash away the pain and cloud my mind until it's clear, I try to forget.

Others get angry, cry and scream, outwardly expressing their emotions, and some refocus, wanting to push it to the back of their minds and obsessing about something else like work or fitness, using distraction as their form of coping mechanism.

Olivia, my angel, like everything in her life, processes heartache internally and privately.

That is, until it breaks her.

I stumble back from the force of her hands but I know how this goes, having been here before, I know she acts like this for self preservation, for my preservation, never wanting me to get too close to the flame incase I get burnt as well.

I don't hesitate in lunging forward again and wrapping my arms back around her petite body as she writhes helplessly against mine.

"Don't push me away," I grunt and hear her squeal into the back of her throat as she slows, her chest heaving and I soften only to lower my lips to her head.

My breath trembles against her hair as we both calm and I squeeze my eyes shut before mumbling, "I didn't know how much this was hurting you. Why didn't you tell me you felt like this? You need to tell me."

She shakes her head and I pull back only enough to regard her damp cheeks and the never ending tears that fall from her eyes.

"You promised me you would be open with me," I say as gently as I can and I watch the emotion flash across her irises.

Pain, frustration, despair. Guilt. Guilt. Guilt.

She clears her throat a little and the fragility of her makes me want to swaddle her in our duvet and never let her go.

"I also promised to give you a normal life outside of work," her voice breaks before she squeaks, "and I haven't been able to do that either."

Something snaps inside me as I watch my wife's beautiful face be overcome with completely unnecessary shame.

"That's it, Olivia, I've had enough," I hear the pain filled whimper bubble up her throat and I immediately grab her phone from the counter top and punch in her code.

She's too upset and confused by my harsh words and bizarre behaviour to stop me as she looks on with her brows pulled close together and tears streaming down her cheeks.

I quickly delete all the apps she has tracking her cycles and ovulation patterns and I see her hand cover her mouth as I throw her phone back down and storm into our bedroom.

I feel her presence behind me as I gather the pregnancy and parenting books on her side of the bed and dramatically throw them into the waste paper basket under the desk. The heavy spines clang against the metal bin and only half actually make it in, the rest are strewn around it.

Call it dominant, call it protective, call it fucking fury but the thought of her feeling guilt over something she has no control over has me in a rage I'm struggling to contain.

I kick the perforated can so hard it hits the wall, making a dint in both the plaster and the metal and only when I hear Olivia gasp through her tears do I take in a breath to try and calm my racing heart.

I release the fists that are shaking by my sides and run a hand through my hair before licking my lips and turning to face her.

I take long strides towards her and she flinches as I cage her to the wall, clearly frightened by the outburst but I don't give a shit, I need this pity and pain to stop.

"I don't want to fucking count days or weeks or months anymore, do you hear me!" I yell too loudly as my voice bounces off the walls.

She gives me a tiny nod but her gaze is fixed on the floor, her arms wrapped defensively around herself, her fingertips trembling.

"We've been married a year, Olivia, and I get we wanted to plan having a baby perfectly between albums and tours but shit happens and life doesn't always work like that!" I tell myself as much as I need her to hear it.

"I don't want to have sex because we HAVE TO anymore!" I swallow hard and see her recoil at my tone.

"I don't want this to be an obligation! I want to fuck you whenever you want it, every morning, every night, whenever, regardless of what some fucking app on your phone says."

I take a couple of deep, settling breaths and watch her face twist as her mind processes everything I am telling her.

After a moment I reach out to run my hands down her arms urging her to look at me, my body language softening and I can't help but sigh when she doesn't.

I bend my knees to try and catch her gaze, her blue eyes finally meeting my green ones and I lower my voice to speak as sincerely as possible.

"One day, Liv, we are gonna have our perfect babies and it's going to be clear why we were made to wait for those specific ones. Despite how long it takes sweetheart, I bet you all the stars in the sky that when we meet them, you wouldn't wish for any other baby that had come sooner."

Her bottom lip tremors with emotion as she imagines our future little family that we want so badly.

"Harry, what if it doesn't happen?" She whispers so softly I have to watch her lips to make out the words.

"We will figure something out, there are so many options for us, ok?" I reassure her vaguely.

"What if it's a sign?" she croaks and her vulnerability melts my heart and warms my skin.

I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear as my heart slams into my chest, overcome with the love I have for this woman.

"It's not a sign, my darling. Some things take hard work and commitment and perseverance. Not everything is easy." I rest our foreheads together as I try to connect my soul to hers.

"It's not a sign, baby, it means it's worth fighting for."

A/N:

SO. MUCH. LOVE.

Have a great weekend everyone!

Love Ruby

x