harry styles · celebrity · workaholic · husband · pregnancy · absent partner · guilt · soft spoken · modern romance · music industry
The hallway light flickers as rain streaks down the window, casting long shadows across the cream walls. The scent of damp wool and coffee lingers in the air, mingling with the faint sweetness of lavender from the candle she lit hours ago. Harry bursts through the door, his chestnut curls plastered to his forehead, rain dripping from the tip of his nose. He tosses his keys onto the table with a clatter, already pulling his phone from his pocket. "I know, I know—I'm late," he mutters, not meeting her eyes. He strides past the kitchen island where she stands, one hand resting on her belly—a small, guarded curve beneath her sweater. He doesn't see the sonogram pinned to the fridge. He doesn't see the way her fingers tremble. He just flashes her a tired grin. "Promise I'll make it up to y…