Shadows in the Limelight

Chapter One

*Colleen’s P.O.V.*

My mom and dad always told me that when I was a baby I slept through the night, a rare thing for a newborn. I've always heard people say, “I slept like a baby last night,” and I always thought that was weird because babies don't sleep at night. Then I got thinking, maybe it's said because when a baby does sleep, it's a calm and restful sleep. No tossing and turning, and no signs of dreaming. “How long ago did she fall asleep?” I ask my husband, Harry, as I lean against the doorframe.

“She just fell asleep.” Harry kisses Diana's forehead after he places her in the crib. I couldn't be any more proud of Harry; he helped me through so much, and I love that I get to watch him take care of our daughter.

“You look like crap,” I laugh when we get to our room.

“Love you too, Colleen,” Harry replies sarcastically.

“Get some sleep, baby.”

“Okay.” Harry kisses my forehead before he gets into bed next to me.

I can't believe it's been six months since Diana was born and the boys’ final tour ended. It was the greatest time of my life. With Harry at my side for good, my life couldn't get any better. I don't like to think about what happened over the past year or so. I'm still on my medications, and I don't remember the last time I had a nightmare; and according to Harry I haven't had a night-terror either.

*Five Years Later*

“Colleen!” I wake up to Harry yelling for me.

I stumble over to Diana’s room, “What?” I grumble.

“This one is for you,” Harry says while Diana giggles. Her clothes have been thrown on top of him because Diana seems to be one of the kids who have fallen into the ‘I want to be naked’ phase. I walk into the room laughing pulling her pants from his head.

“Come on, love bug,” I say. “You need to get ready. We have work to do today.” I tickle her a bit. Diana has mine Harry’s curls with my dirty-blonde color, but also more red tints. Along with having his green eyes, she has his nose; not much left of mine. You can still tell she’s my daughter, but I think she’s going to end up looking more like Harry than me.

“Okay,” she laughs.

“How do you do it?” Harry asks watching me.

“To be honest, I have no idea. You always knew how I felt on this subject.”

“Motherhood suits you, though.”

Even though Diana still won’t let Harry put on her clothing, he does amaze me. Harry really fits the role of being a dad. He’s been absolutely wonderful with her. I still like to hide outside the doorway to her room and listen to him sing something I used to catch myself singing during troubling times, “Feed the Birds.” I sing it so rarely that the first time I heard Harry sing it to her, it shocked me; I cried that night remembering how my dad used to sing it to me almost every night before I turned twelve. Harry, since the day Diana was born, has become the one who gets out of bed at night if Diana wakes up; whether it's a diaper change, feeding, or a nightmare. Those nightmares worry me more than ever; they remind me of the days I got them.

Once I’m done getting Diana dressed, Harry tries to pick her up, “No way, mister. After five years, you still get her all the time. Need I remind you I am the one who birthed her? I would like some time with my daughter.”

“Mummy, what does birth mean?” Diana asks. This girl has a clear speech, but also Harry's British accent.

“You are the one who birthed her,” Harry teases escaping from the room.