Together Or Apart

9. Golden

I reach the fifth step when Harry meets me at the top and stops me. "I've got it." He says as he takes the small bag from my hands and carries it the rest of the way down. He places it down beside the other three bags that he previously brought down from our bedroom upstairs. "Who chose to buy the house with so many stairs?" He jokes, wiping sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand.

"Have you got everything? Phone, charger, wallet, pyjamas, toothbrush. Most importantly, your passport?"

"Fuck, my passport. I think I left it in the car on my trip here."

"What do you mean?" I sprint after him down the stairs. "How did you leave it in the car? Wouldn't the driver have called you?"

Harry turns around to face me and that's when I see a smirk on his face.

"You prick." I push him from behind and he takes hold of my arm, pulling me into him and holding me tightly. Harry rests his chin on top of my head and then kisses my hair.

"You're getting gullible in your old age, Hayes."

I show him the ring on my finger. "Soon to be Styles if we ever get the chance to tie the knot."

"Baby, I'd marry you tomorrow. I don't need no ceremony or big facade. All I need is my three girls there. I mean, it would be nice to have our family but you know what I mean."

While resting my head against his chest, I close my eyes and take in this moment. Smelling his vanilla and pine scent. Hearing the sound of his heartbeat and feeling the soft beating against the side of my face.

An ill feeling swirls around in the pit of my stomach as the separation anxiety within me grows. Goodbyes haven't got any easier over the years.

Someone comes sprinting down the hallway and I feel a harsh thump against my leg as London joins in on the embrace. She circles her arms around Harry's and my legs, pressing her head between the small space between our two bodies.

Harry bends down to pick her up. "Dad will be back very soon okay."

London hides her face in his neck. "Don't go Daddy."

"I'm sorry baby."

"Just call that lady and tell her you can't come." She lets out a fake cough. "I'm feeling sick. Tell her that I'm sick now and you can't go."

Harry begins explaining to London about how important his trip to LA is and how he can't miss it. The lady that London is referring to is Simone, Harry's manager. Last year Harry cancelled a meeting because London had a bad fever and we took her to hospital when her temperature wouldn't climb down from 39.3°C.

She overheard Harry on the phone to Simone. Ever since then, she tells him to cancel things by using her illness as an excuse.

It's both sad, but genius if you ask me. Sad because a little girl shouldn't have to pretend to be sick, just to be able to have her Dad at home. Genius because a five year old knows how to fake call in sick to work.

Whilst the two are engaging in conversation, I walk away to get Sydney who I need to wake up from a nap. She's going to be grumpy, but I need to put her in the car so we can take Harry to the airport.

"Don't wake her." Harry calls to me as I reach midway up the staircase. I stop walking and turn around to look at him. "I'll call my mate Jerry. He is in the area and lives 10 minutes from the airport."

"Jerry ... have I heard of him?"

Harry tilts his head slightly and has a look of discomfort on his face. He scratches his chin before answering me. "He was one of the boys that I was with a few years ago. You know, when I went on the boat."