#He can survive everything else but the moment he gets a tummy ache its over

[accidentallyatekneecaps]

Saiki would not survive a tummy ache

[punkcupcakestyles]

Love Song

Part 16

Catch up!

In which one of them says the “L” word.

TW: Hi, this chapter contains references to DV. If you don’t feel like reading it, that's fine, your wellbeing is a priority. However, if you would like to read some of this new chapter, you can skip it, as references are only made in the first part directly under the “read more”, which is marked with a ++++ for you. Once that bracket ends, it is TW-free. 

****

Are Harry Styles and Sofia Welsh a thing?

Surely, you must be asking this yourself…

++++

Harry was still asleep when I woke up. He was sleeping on his belly, with his back turned to me, and I scooted closer to him, brushing my fingers over the light red marks I had left on his skin. So, last night had happened, and those marks were there to prove it. 

I laid on my back and stared at the ceiling, trying to come up with all of the ways I was different that morning. We had sex, which was new, and then took a shower together and fell asleep in the middle of kisses and giddy laughs, which wasn’t so new. My body was the same, except for the slight pain on one side of my hips, and the ticklish memory of Harry’s lips on my skin. My mind was fluttery and anxious, but that wasn’t Harry’s fault.

It was mine.

One thing was different: Harry knew.

What had happened last night? I was desperate for Harry to stay. I felt like my heart would break irreparably if he walked away. A desperate, exaggerated feeling, no doubt, but it felt so real at that moment, so overwhelmingly true, that nothing else mattered. So I told him about my mom and my aunt, about my family. I had told him I needed a hiding place…

What comes next?

Harry rustled in his sleep and I found myself holding my breath before I could even realize, watching as he turned to lie on his back. It seemed like he was going to wake up at any minute now, and I still hadn’t chosen the feeling I should focus on. 

On one hand, I felt excited and giddy, the memory of the previous night vividly replaying in my mind. Last night, he was mine, he had stayed and I had slept in his arms; I also felt guilty and ashamed, tied up to a story I hadn’t chosen for myself. 

If I closed my eyes, I could see him, moving in all of his fury. I could hear the screams and the lies. I could never shake away the feeling that it was all my fault. I should have done something earlier. 

“Fuck,” I moaned, already feeling the ghosts as they circled me. I could see him, blazing up like a pure fire that wanted to burn everything that it could find. I could see her, making herself small, waiting for whatever was coming her way. Neither of them could see me. 

“Sof?” I heard Harry’s voice, but it sounded far away, more like a whisper making its way through a tangle of darkness. If I searched for it, if I reached for it…Harry looped one arm around my waist, and he must have thought that I was having a nightmare, cause he let his body wrap around mine to keep me warm and close. Safe. “It’s ok,” he whispered and I could hear his voice clearer now, even if it was sleepy. “I’m here, baby.”

I think he did it out of reflex, because his eyelids were still heavy with sleep, struggling to open, even when it was still dark around us. I quickly turned around, burying my face onto the crook of his neck and smiling when his hug became tighter and his fingers tangled in my knotty hair. 

He still smelled fresh from the shower and his skin was cold to the touch, so I sighed as I kissed his shoulder and neck, and I felt comfort when his lips met mine in a lazy, soft kiss.  

“Were you having a bad dream?” He asked, once sleep had faded away. I could see the outline of his face and could feel the touch of his fingers as he brushed them up my waist and to my back. It was soothing, but the ache was still there, bringing me down and suffocating me. 

“No,” I said with a raspy voice that I could barely recognize as mine. I cleared my throat and blinked away the tears that were brimming my eyes so he wouldn’t notice them. “I was awake. Sorry for waking you up.”

“It’s ok.” I could hear the smile in his voice, which was tinted with a sweet hint that settled underneath my skin and made me feel warm, my own heart forgetting about rhythm and beating. “Are you ok?”

“Now that you’re awake, I am.”

“Good, baby. I’m here for you,” Harry whispered. He brushed his lips over my forehead and pressed a soft kiss there, one that told me more than words could. “Wanna tell me what happened? You were so tense.”

“H..." I hesitated. How did I explain it to him? How did I tell him what I had done? That I didn't regret it? “Do you really want to know?” I asked him. I pushed myself away from him, rolling away from his arms to sit on the bed. He did the same, sitting by my side as he propped himself up on the pillows. This wasn’t how I imagined the morning after, and I bet it wasn’t like he had imagined it either.

“Yes!” He said, which was exactly the answer I was dreading. “You don’t have to, Sof, but you can always tell me if something’s upsetting you.”

“I...I didn’t want you to go yesterday. I wanted you to stay,” I said, trying to earn myself some time to articulate my thoughts. “So I told you some things that I’ve never said to anyone before. And I’m feeling guilty and afraid of what you might think.”

“Ok,” he said, which was not nearly enough, but it prompted me to continue. 

“And I feel the desperate need to tell you that my dad wasn’t always bad, that I had a pony, and on Fridays, I could eat way too much sugar. I don’t want you to think…” I stopped because I needed to gulp back my tears. My mom and I, we’re strong people.”

“I know.”

“And I don’t want you to think any different about me.”

“Why would I, Sof?” Why would he? Because I kept telling myself that I did what I had to do, but I’m lying. At that moment, all I felt was rage, not survival. I wanted to hurt him, make him suffer for what he had done, even if just a bit. I wanted to kill him. But I didn’t. “C’mere,” Harry said, and his fingers found mine and squeezed them lightly as he laced them together. So I obeyed and breathed him in as he pulled me into a tight hug. “You’re safe, I promise.”

“I know.”

“Good,” he breathed and his body noticeably relaxed, even though I don’t think either of us even had realized he was holding his breath in. 

If anything, it made the butterflies in my tummy rise and flutter. 

****

Kacey Musgraves and Harry Styles reunited yesterday, on the last date of her Oh, What a World: Tour II, to sing “Space Cowboy” from her hit album Golden Hour. The heartfelt performance was received with cheers from the audience. At the end of the song, Styles praised her former tour partner, calling her one of his favorites. It was a breathtaking moment.

Eagle-eyed fans, however, also noticed a special guest that was not announced, and that tried to blend in with the crowd: Styles’ on-and-off rumored girlfriend Sofia Welsh-De la Rosa was seen in the crowd during the duet performance, along with her agent and some friends. Does this mean a confirmation of the romance? Not quite, as she stayed to enjoy the concert even after he left the stage and was nowhere to be seen during the closing party. Was it just a coincidence? Is Welsh a stalker? Fans have been weighing in on Twitter, but the question remains: If Sofia Welsh gets ghosted, what hope do I have? Below you’ll find some of the most relatable comments…

****

It all started innocently, sitting next to him on the couch to cuddle while he reviewed the plan for his next single. It was all laid out in an e-mail, with wardrobe ideas and stage mockups. A glimpse of his screen was enough to catch my attention, as I saw what looked like a fisherman island and a couple of lively-looking fishes. 

“What’s the song about?” I asked him, peering up at him as my head rested on his shoulder. I had to ask, there were fish involved!

“Well...you. It’s about you.” Harry smiled and I saw him blush a little while he avoided looking me in the eyes.

“No, really, tell me!”

“It’s about you, Sof. What makes you think I’m joking?”

“Why would you write a song about me? Is it about how annoying I am?” I grinned and I propped myself up with one hand, so I could look him in the eyes while we talked. It was funny, ‘cause I knew about the song, he had told me the night of our date, which seemed like ages ago. But now, my brain was going into overdrive, and I stared at him as he leaned closer and let his lips brush over a kiss over my forehead. 

“It’s about how much I like you,” he said, and this time, he met my eyes while I stared at him stupidly. 

“Is that the surprise you told me about? I would’ve thought you had pulled it from the album after everything that’s happened these last few weeks.”

“I did try, but Jeff told me to go fuck myself.” I didn’t know if he was joking. The quick smile on his lips disappeared as Harry looked at me. “And I wrote them for you, it’s only fair you get to listen to them.”

“Can I? Listen to it, I mean...” 

“As long as you don’t tell Jeff to pull it from the album, I think we can do that.”

“I promise I won’t.”

The few seconds he took to look for the song seemed like an eternity, that I spent with my heart pounding in my ears and my eyes fixed on his phone screen. There were tons of songs there, and while some had a proper title, most were named with just a word or a date. I watched him go to a list called FL, and there, he scrolled down to the bottom, before pressing play on a song named “Adore You”. 

As the first few notes started to play, I went quiet and let Harry pull me into a cuddle. Once again, I was lying next to him, with my head resting on his chest, and I could feel the steadiness of his heart, and the warm touch of his fingers as they pressed to my waist. 

“Walk in your rainbow paradise…”

His voice was rich and soothing and it made my heartache in a way I didn’t know it was capable of. I listened to it, focusing on the words and the melody. I wanted to decipher every bit of it, every intention, every hint, tear it apart, and build it up again second by second. 

Harry was smiling when I looked at him, almost shyly and apologetically, like telling me how sorry he was for putting me in the spotlight. 

But I loved it. 

“Play it again”, I whispered when the song came to an end, as I looked up at him. Harry smiled in satisfaction, a little cocky grin, as he put the song on repeat. He then shifted on the couch, sitting up so I could straddle him. His hands went to my back and held my waist as mine looped around his shoulders.

“Did you like it?” Harry managed to ask between my kisses, lips pressing softly to his own, his cheek, his jaw, his nose. 

“I did. I loved it,” I giggled as I looked for his neck to kiss him there. I wondered how many times we would listen to the song before I was satisfied. Many, I had to guess. 

“Good…” Harry smiled and broke the kiss apart to look at me in the eyes. “I love you, Sof.”

I froze, stopping my frantic mission to kiss every available inch of his body, and I slowly brought my hands to my lap, as I looked at him, forgetting how to breathe. 

“You don’t have to say it back,” Harry breathed with a light laugh. “I know you have feelings for Sam, so it’s ok if you have to think about it. I just wanted to let you know… I’m yours if you want me, Sof....and even if you don’t.”

“What…” I started, but words kept failing to form in my lips, just as much as they failed to organize coherently in my brain. There was so much I wanted to say, many things I could tell him, but instead, I pressed myself to him, hugging him tight to my body until our breaths mixed, and it wasn’t too clear whose heartbeat was louder. 

“It’s ok. It’s ok, Sof, you don’t have to say anything,” Harry whispered reassuringly, so I did the only thing I knew I could do, I kissed him. 

Right then, it was easy to see how everything had changed from the night before, or even a few minutes ago. Now his touch felt different, filled with the memories of the night before. He knew my body better than I did. It was his to explore, to taste, and touch, and he did so. Everything, including the kiss, was slow but intense, soft and sweet but so fucking hungry.  

“I love you, Sof.” I kept replaying it in my mind, with all of its letters, one by one. Like a gospel, a moment of prayer to calm the soul. 

Harry made his way down to my collarbones, and he trailed his kisses down to the valley of my chest, where he stopped, and let his fingers curl around the cups of my bra to push it down. The warmth on his breath rose goosebumps all over my skin and I moaned quietly as he wrapped his lips around my nipple and sucked on it. It felt so good, but still, anticipation was boiling in my tummy, demanding more. I wanted to feel his tongue, his warm breath, the drowned moans. I wanted them to echo down my body until I had no more choice but to cry out in pleasure. It was a delicious, bubbly feeling that clouded my mind, only leaving space for Harry.

I was so sensitive, all raw skin and prickly nerves, the slightest touch sent a shiver up my spine and made me arch my back and moan.

I was too aware of the light touch of his hand brushing down my stomach and sliding underneath my panties. I could see a flash of a smile before he went to pay attention to my other nipple, sucking harder on it as he grazed his finger around my clit. 

“Fuck,” I moaned, trying to relax as the sharp pain of my soreness took over my senses for just a second. But it didn’t escape Harry, who stopped right away to look at me with a worried glint in his eyes. 

“Are you sore, Sof?” He asked, and to my despair he pulled his hand away, placing it on my leg instead with a light squeeze. 

“A bit,” I said, almost apologetically. “But we can still do it.”

“It’s ok,” Harry smiled. “There’s no rush. We can just kiss.”

“We’re going back to L.A. tomorrow, and you’ll be off to London by the end of the week, so at least I’m in a rush. I’ve already wasted a lot of time.”

“So, what are you suggesting? That we should fuck non-stop now?”

“Yes!!” I laughed. “You should fuck me.”

“I want you to enjoy it,” Harry said and he hugged me closer to his chest. The sentiment was appreciated and I had no doubt he actually meant it, but that didn’t mean I had to make it easy for him. His tummy tightened as my fingers brushed over his tanned skin, the slight swell of his pecs, the muscles on his abs, and a low moan escaped his reluctant lips as I shifted on his lap, and rolled my hips for him. He was getting hard, maybe because of all of the feverish kisses we had shared, and I felt the sharp bite of his nails as they dug on the round of my ass. “So it feels good for you. It kinda hurts my ego if you don’t.” he smiled. His hands pressed tightly to my hips, stopping me from making any movement. “And I owe you one from last night.”

“I enjoyed last night, it was perfect.”

“Really?” Harry asked, his smiling lighting up his cute face when he looked at me. “I always thought our first time was gonna be fucking special, like a hotel in Paris looking at the tower, or something like that.”

“You thought about our first time?”

“I did, it got me through the nights,” he said. His touch had no urgency other than to feel me close and feel the warmth of my skin under the tips of his fingers. 

“Good to know I’m on your mind, then.”

“All the fucking time, didn’t you listen to the song?”

So engulfed we were in each other that we had missed the sound of the door opening or that of the soft steps that followed it.

“H, why did you change rooms? Listen, man, if I have to listen to Diana nag me because of you...oh, fuck! I’m sorry,” a male voice exclaimed, going from very confused and slightly annoyed to sincerely apologetic. I scrambled to the couch to cover myself with the pillows, while Harry remained seated, calmly looking at his friend. 

Jeff was holding what seemed like a bakery paper bag, and 4 tall coffees. He set them down on the little table in front of the couch and cleared his throat while he clearly avoided looking at me. Without saying a word, Harry stood up and walked to the room, and came back after he had dressed, and holding a shirt he offered to me. It only took him seconds, but it felt like an eternity, and Jeff and I were awkward enough to make it evident. 

“I thought you had left for L.A., Sof. Diana told me you did,” Jeff said, now that I had put on the shirt, and he was free to look at me. He sat down on one corner of the couch and picked up Harry’s phone to stop the music. The room felt too silent without it.

“I decided not to go.”

“Good,” he smiled. Both of us were looking at Harry, as he smiled at me. He was our only connection, after all, and I had a nagging feeling that Jeff did not like me all that much. “Does Diana know?”

“That I stayed?”

“With Harry, yeah,” Jeff pressed.

“I haven’t told her, no.”

“Ok, we might want to do that,” he smiled too kindly. I would have felt overwhelmed by the, how does the song go? Oh, yes, bad moon a-rising feeling of his words, but at that moment, Jeff leaned over the table and started fixing breakfast in front of us: buttery and flaky croissants, little pastries filled with chocolate and raspberries, cinnamon swirls and avocado and eggs toast. The sugary and buttery smell took over my well-intentioned anxiety. It kept me on top of things most of the time, never too surprised when things went wrong. 

“How many people did you invite for breakfast?” I asked him. 

“Well, Diana is coming. Yesterday she told me you were leaving and that you guys were probably moving on, so I told her to meet me this morning.”

“Moving on from what?” Harry asked his friend as he picked two croissants and offered me one. Mine had red stripes, so I guessed it must’ve had some kind of strawberry or raspberry filling. He picked a chocolate one for himself and set it apart on the table, grabbing a cup of coffee first. 

“I’m gonna take a wild guess, and say you, they’re moving on from you.”

The croissant was still warm and I held it in my hand like it was a war grenade, ready to blow off. Could I eat it? The short answer was no. The long answer was more complicated than that, but it also ended in a no. My tummy grumbled, it had been long since the last time I had really eaten or felt hungry, so it took me a couple of seconds to realize what was going on around me, like the fact that both Harry and Jeff were looking at me as if I was fucking crazy. Perhaps I was. 

“Are you having a meltdown over a croissant?” Harry asked, and the mocking hint that laced in his voice stung. Oh, he didn’t understand. 

“I’m on a diet, and I need to be because otherwise, they might not give me the role.”

“They already did, that’s why you’re training like a crazy person.”

“They can still say that I don’t look good in a latex suit, because who fucking does? And take the role away from me,” I tried explaining, as I leaned over the table to put the croissant down and pick a black coffee.

“They won’t,” Harry said as he picked it up back again and offered it to me. “I promise. You’re the queen right now, and everyone’s in love with you. And if they choose to take the role away from you, they’re assholes anyway,” he continued, with a sweet smile on his face. I took the napkin and leaned back on the couch as I took a bite out of the croissant.

“Good,” Jeff exclaimed, reminding us that we were not alone in the room. “Now, do we talk about Sofia wanting to move on, or do we just ignore it?”

“I, uh, I don’t want to move on.”

“Ok, so I’ll talk to Diana,” Jeff nodded. “I’ll do it soon, so you guys don’t have time to change your fucking minds.”

“Thanks, Jeff,” I smiled at him. He didn’t like me, oh, not at all, but he wasn’t doing it for me. So he shrugged, and took a pastry for himself, to eat it with his coffee. 

Maybe we had said Diana’s name too many times, because there she was, closing the door behind her. She couldn’t see me, but I saw her, with her green dress with white flowers on. She was holding a plastic bowl of fruit and a holder with 3 tall coffees and she walked into the room and towards us without noticing me. When she did, a frown etched between her brows, and her eyes danced from Harry to me.

“You didn’t leave. Good, we need to talk.” Diana said as if nothing could surprise her anymore. She walked to me and picked up the piece of croissants I had left in my hands and put them down on the table, before she sat down next to Jeff, with a bright, satisfied smile on her face. “You can’t eat that. Actually, we might need to go even more strict. Dior wants you for their new campaign and Rihanna is wondering if you’d like to model some underwear. I said yes to both.” She waited for the ovation. I could see that she was holding herself from clapping in excitement. But we all remained silent, and she slowly calmed herself down, looking at me as if I was the one that didn’t understand, which was a fair assumption; I didn’t understand. 

“It means people know you can sell, Sof. We can ask for more money. We can ask you to be one of the top earners in the Marvel Universe. The top earner in every other movie you make,” she said, giddily. “Now, Dior wants you to shoot their campaign with one of their most iconic dresses. It’s a size zero, and they’ll stretch it to a size two, a tight one. So, we need to cut down a bit.”

A bit. 

“Why don’t they just stretch it a little more?” Harry asked. 

“Because it’s an iconic dress, I just said it, Harry,” Diana snapped. 

“That’s bullshit, Diana,” Harry said, and even though he was smiling, there was a hint of anger in his voice. He was annoyed and he didn’t feel like hiding it. 

“Oh, you think you know what us women…”

I couldn’t take it. I knew I should have said something, perhaps side with Harry and tell Diana that I wasn’t interested, but it was all too much. So I did what I know how to do best: I got up and left, walking to my room to hide from both of them and closing the door behind me. I sat on the corner of the bed and let out a shaky sigh. I wasn’t alone for too long. Harry entered the room and he cautiously walked to me and sat down by my side. The bed wobbled a little and I looked at him for a second before going back to look down to the floor.  

“Are you ok, love?” He asked. 

“I just started having sex,” I said. 

“I am aware,” he replied. 

“So, all of this talk about my body...it fucking sucks, especially because you’re there and you can listen to all of it, and…”

“And what?”

“Realize I don’t look good in a catsuit.”

“Do you want to see me in a catsuit? I don’t think I’d look good either,” He offered, and I laughed, despite everything, because that was the thing about Harry, he made everything better. 

“Would you put on a catsuit for me?” 

“I’d do anything for you, Sof...Come with me to London, let’s forget about this whole thing.”

“I can’t, H. I have to train and follow this diet, and be camera ready.”

“I promise I’ll keep you busy,” he said.

“Yeah? How?”

He did exactly what I expected him to do, he kissed me, his fingers pressing softly to the back of my neck, while his tongue swept my bottom lip. It was a lavish kiss, slow and intense. It made me forget that there were people in the other room, and to shift on the bed until I was sitting on his lap, with my legs on each side of his body. His hands started their journey on the upper part of my back, under my shirt, and he ran the tip of his fingers down the length of my spine. Every inch of skin he touched set on fire and reminded me how alive I was and all that I was capable of feeling because of him. 

“Please,” I muttered against his lips as his fingers got to the round of my ass, and he dug them and kneaded on my skin. 

“Please what?” He smiled. 

“Please whatever you want…”

“You need me, baby?”

“I need you, I want you…”

“Can you be quiet for me?” 

“Yes, I can try. Please.”

****

The plot thickens: Harry Styles and Sofia Welsh were seen leaving his hotel in Nashville together, where the singer was staying after he performed in Kacey Musgraves’ concert. The stars, who haven’t confirmed the status of their relationship, went out to grab lunch with a group of friends, including Musgraves herself, and then left for the airport together. 

This outing comes as a disappointment for Logan Lerman fans, who have started shipping him with the actress, as they are both set to work together in Amazon’s new show...

[utterlyinevitable]

The Conference (Part 9)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 

Paring: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Rebecca Lao) Word Count: 3.7k Rating: T+ Warning: Some cursing Summary: It’s the evening after the keynote and they go out for a civil dinner date.

A/N: shout out to ruby @starrystarrytrouble for reminding me people actually like reading this mess 💕

________________________________________

After we finished up the panel I stuck around the conference hall to network whilst Ethan had ditched the crowd at the first opportunity he got, heading back to our hotel room and venturing away from the pecking vultures. To be honest, I didn’t really blame him. Everyone wanted a piece of the poor, well-endowed man. 

A couple hours later, I shuffled back into our apartment. My aching feet somehow prevailed without causing me to collapse on the odd geometric carpet floor, or ditching my heels along the way and walking barefoot like some uncultured frosh stumbling home at 3AM. Once through the heavy metal plated door, I headed straight to my room, not throwing a single pleasantry towards Ethan in the seating area. From what I could tell he was typing furiously on his laptop after nursing a scotch - the empty crystal tumbler on the table was a dead giveaway. 

The anxiety and delirium inducing stress of the day lifted the second my kinda-sweaty body collapsed onto the private armchair in my room, clutching its aqua-colored arms and sinking into the velvet cushion. Staring out at the familiar skyline my mind started to replay the happenings of the day; every little thing that happened - from the confidence I felt during our speech, to the way that asshole called me out, and how Ethan stood up for me every step of the way. How proud he was even if he relayed the sentiment in such small words. 

We survived today. We haven’t strangled each other nor suffered any little deaths. All that’s left for this trip is the tour we have tomorrow morning, and then we’ll be on our way back to Edenbrook. Back to the way things were… 

Somehow my tired and self destructive brain decided it wanted to revel in the memories of the last few days. Thinking about all the non-work things that happened this trip. Thinking of all the words shared, and the blast from the past. And the revelation that little adventure birthed. 

Fuck me...

Things are weird. Like, so weird. I don’t know what I’m doing or why I’m even thinking this… but I miss him. Today showed me how great we are together! Professionally and as friends. We’re the dynamic duo: Ramsey and his Rookie. His. I - 

I need to stop thinking that. 

I belong to myself. I do what I want when I want and with whom I want. 

And so does he. And that’s why I walked away. I’m- 

I’m still getting over him. 

While simultaneously trying to get under him… 

Thoughts wandered back to Ryan and how long it took me to get over the detrimental ‘what if’s of him. If I held on tighter and longer and didn’t get in the way of myself back then - if one thing was different - everything could be different. 

A small, revelatory gasp escaped me. 

I didn’t want things to be different. 

After eight fucking years I finally understood. 

If I didn’t love and lose Ryan I never would have found my way to Boston. To Ethan. And here - knowing what I do and having all the experiences of the last few months - I couldn’t continue a life without knowing Ethan Ramsey. 

I’m going to do whatever I can to repair our friendship. 

I changed my clothes into something not requiring heels - black skinny jeans, a blouse and my trusty Chelsea boots - and my hair pulled back into a bun. Simple, sleek, and completely me. No pomp and circumstance, or hiding behind anything. Just me, making an effort.  

With all the determination I could muster I sauntered into the living room where I assumed Ethan would still be. 

I was right; he hadn’t changed positions at all. Sitting there on the couch, his feet up on the gaudy footstool with his laptop perched on his lap, tortoise-patterned glasses framing his face, and furiously typing on the keyboard. 

“So...” I trailed awkwardly to break the tension surrounding him, leaning against the wall with my hands stuffed in my armpits. “What do you want to do for dinner?” 

“Oh,” He planted his feet on the floor and turned to face me fully, moving his laptop off of him and folding his arms in his lap. “Uh, well-”

Quickly I added, “If you’d rather eat alone it’s fine by me. I was thinking of grabbing pizza at John’s.” 

Ethan nodded in response, saying, “Sounds good.”

“Cool,” I nodded back. “You ready or…?”

“Let me grab my things,” he stood, collected his things and headed to his room.

Less than two minutes later we headed out of the apartment together, walking side by side. Though this time wasn’t like earlier. There wasn’t the blind determination and need to impress like this morning. Right now we were two people who used to know one another going out to dinner in a spectacular converted synagogue.  

***

For anyone who doesn’t know John’s, it’s a local family-style pizza joint. There’s three restaurants around the city and the Times Square location is by far the best. Every time I have a hot minute to spare I try to go - the stained glass and craftsmanship of the building is everything! But you don’t want to hear about that… and neither did Ethan when I tried to fill the silence during our walk with all the reasons to love this place. For some reason he preferred to barge and weave in silence. 

Whatever. 

Lucky enough he was more chatty once we were seated. 

Our table was in the mezzanine with not much of a view besides the stone staircase in the corner and the large dome towering above. The dim lighting complimented the deep wooden table and beige upholstered seating. 

We ordered. And without the menu to keep our attention, I tried my hand at conversation once more.  

“Be honest, how did we do?”

Looking me in the eyes, ones that mirrored mine, showed such confidence and pride as he said his next words;

“You handled it well, Becca.” There was a tug at the corners of his mouth that pulled at my own. I was about to get a rare Ramsey smile - one I’ve been devoid of for far too long. 

“Dare I even say, like a natural.” 

I got to revel in the small compliment for a few moments as the server brought over our food - garlic knots, small veggie pizza, and a chef’s side salad. 

“I didn’t stutter too much or come off too young?” I couldn’t help but ask when it was just us two again. His opinion matters more than anyone else’s when it comes to my career. 

“You did.” 

“But you -” 

He cut me off, a slight shake of his big head, “You are young and this was your first keynote.” he clarified. And once more he said pridefully, “You did well.” 

After what felt like ages we shared a private smile. How he was able to bring me back into myself with a few words and stop fussing over imposter syndrome is a wonder.  

“Now eat some pizza and be happy.” 

My smile grew to a goofy one by the way he was looking at me, bemused. I refrained from sticking my tongue out and dug into a little slice of heaven. “Don’t have to tell me twice.”

We dug in. Letting the flavors dance over my taste buds and make me only as happy as a New York slice could make me. No amount of fantastic sex could compare to pizza. Everything kind of disappeared - time stopped while the first bites settled in my tummy. Even Ethan looked to be enjoying it even though it’s not fancy smancy and artery clogging. 

Eventually I broke our companioned silence;

“How was lunch with Chief Fredericks?” I asked as I reached for a scrumptious ball of garlicy dough. 

The response left his lips so swiftly he didn’t even bother to look up from his plate; 

“Informative.”

I scoffed at the non-answer answer. 

My little grumble pulled him out of his bubble and he looked over at me - those damn baby blues challenging my thoughtfully indecent outburst. I just gave him a look right back. 

Ethan rolled his eyes and reached for another slice. Cutting it up with a fork and knife like an absolute weirdo.  

“He heard about the state budget cuts. Wanted to know what I think and if I’d be open to consult every so often.” 

“And?” I probed. 

“And what? You know how I feel about the future of Edenbrook.” 

“Yes. But if it goes under, what do you think you’ll do? I mean, everyone’s going to be throwing themselves at you.” 

I shoved some greenery in my gob to keep from adding the jarring truth. 

Everyone throws themselves at you. 

But who he gives his attention to is another story.  

Ethan shrugged ever so nonchalantly, “I haven’t thought about it.” 

The cavalier way he was speaking of his life after Edenbrook had thrown me off. Ethan was never this laid-back. It just wasn’t in his nature. There’s always something for this man to stress over. And Edenbrook’s closing should be his anxiety numero uno. 

But here he was, ever so calm. 

Hmm... 

“Are you in denial?” I said through a bite, fully anticipating another non-answer.  

“Maybe.” 

The way he said it took me aback. It was inherently honest and soft. All of his jagged features were rounded and there was a dulled little twinkle in his eye. 

Yeah, something’s going on here he’s not telling me.  

“Ethan -” 

And of course he deflects by turning the conversation on me; “What are you going to do?” 

Keeping from rolling my eyes at his obvious deflection from roaming into his feelings deeper, I replied, “Transfer my residency.” 

“Where?” 

“I…” - dammit - “don’t know.”

I haven’t really dwelled on what happens when the hospital closes. Obviously I need to finish residency if I want to be an actual practicing doctor. But the matching process can go screw itself. I don’t never ever want to do that again - all I cared about was matching with the best. And I did. So who’s the second best now? 

Is it wherever he goes?  

There’s just so much to think about, and I’d really rather not. Not until the last few nails are lined up against the coffin. 

“See,” he said with a hint of a lopsided grin, “Neither of us are ready to leave Edenbrook behind.” 

He was right. Of course he’s right. You didn’t need to be a diagnostician or even a doctor to see that we’re holding out hope of a buyout. 

I’ve just gotten to Edenbrook - only a few months into my dream career with my dream boss - and now, what? It’s all over before it even really began? No. I can’t accept that. 

There was a beat of silence as we both reached for the salad tongs, our hands brushing on accident. Both our eyes shot to bear witness to the contact, pulling us out of whatever ran wild through our thoughts and into this new, secluded moment. Everything around us dulled in the distance; the sounds swirling in the air muted and like a faint breeze. The warm lighting dimmed further, yet there was a spotlight on the salad bowl. The greens and reds and purples of the ruffage illuminated like it was the only thing that mattered. Like right now the earth was spinning just for this moment of closeness. 

Surprisingly, neither of us made a motion to move. His large hand overlapping my dainty fingers, the metal underneath the pads of my fingers warming up instantly. Electricity still coursed through me like the very first time. Except now it carried the memories of all the other times and places he set me aflame. 

I had to be the one to pull back. 

Almost, like it needed time to comprehend why the moment was intentionally ruined, the atmosphere around us began to revert back slightly. I could hear the idle chatter of those around us now. I could see the full picture of Ethan sitting across from me and all the individuals pattering around behind him. What couldn’t pretend to go back and hung off kilter was the beating in my chest - I could feel the electricity coursing through my veins and putting my heart through the ringer. 

Ethan made up for it by serving me. 

Does he know he still has such an effect on me?  

Quick! I needed to divert my thoughts off of the creeping flush and want from taking hold. So I went back to talking about work, our safe topic. 

“If you could work anywhere else in the world where would it be?” I asked.  

Ethan took a moment to think as he served himself some salad. He looked like he was actually thinking of an answer, maybe, for the first time he’s digested the hospital’s fate. 

“I think the next logical step would be the Mayo Clinic. They’re the best diagnostics in the world.” His eyes diverted back down to his plate and, after a beat, he added, “I also wouldn’t mind spending more time on missions with The WHO.”

My eyes searched his as they looked anywhere but where I was seated across from him, trying to find any sort of fault in his features. Something, anything, that I could hold onto. Nothing. Just stupid sincerity. The first fucking time in weeks he actually lets us talk about his time in the Amazon I can’t be mad at him.  

“You really enjoyed your time there, huh?” 

“It…” he hesitated, choosing his words carefully. 

We’ve wandered into emotional territory and we both needed to tread carefully. I need to remember that he was never mine, as much as I felt like his from our first kiss. Need to recall that back then everything was drawn out in plain sight. Our end was always just that - an end. I Need to forgive. And try to remember that at one point he did try to fight for me, in his round-a-bout noncommittal way, and I was the one to end things officially. 

We both need to forgive. Especially if these are the last few months we have working together. 

“Was important work and I got to make a difference in the lives of thousands of indigenous people.” Ethan took another small pause for breath. When he continued, his deep baritone voice was lower, “Even if my intentions for going were skewed, it was an opportunity of a lifetime.” 

The simplest thing to do would be to nod, or eat - distract myself - or even change the subject. To try not to dwell on the implications of the statement. But I couldn’t. My body tensed and the warmth from moments before fled completely. 

We were silent. The brutal truth of why he left stinging just as much as it did the day I found out. 

Minutes, many many minutes passed with me finding solace in sweet savory carbs and Ethan pushing things around on his plate. 

Eager to change the subject there was one other topic of the day I was endlessly curious to know more about; 

“So, what’s the deal with Dr. Schwab?” 

“Don’t.” He dismissed, his authoritative voice seeping through just a tad. Though I’d like to think he’s smart enough not to use it with me outside of Edenbrook.  

“If you don’t tell me I’ll be forced to fabricate my own. I’m feeling a one-night stand gone wrong.” 

He looked back down at his food. 

“Oh my god, I’m right.” The smile that erupted literally took over my entire face. I could not hide it even if I tried.  

“Rebecca,” he tried to scold. 

“Now you have to tell me.” 

Just like earlier he turned the conversation back on me; “What’s with the frat boy?” 

“Ryan was never in a fraternity,” I responded, not hiding the grin that formed by putting Ethan in his place. “He’s a jock though.” 

He expelled a dry laugh, “I don’t think that’s any better.” He took a bite of his salad. Something radiated off of Ethan I couldn’t quite place. 

“We were close in high school,” I added for reasons I’m not quite sure why. Like that explained who Ryan was and why he came back into my life now, of all times.  

Ethan made a condescending, “mhm”. 

I rolled my eyes; “We had a thing for a while, okay.” I conceded. “We grew apart senior year, and then I went off to college. Last night was the first time we’ve spoken in, like, eight years.” 

Ethan made absolutely no reactions to the statement. Not even a stupid wiggle of his dumb perfect eyebrow. 

Is he even paying attention? 

“Now tell me about Schwab - sorry, Hilary,” I coaxed.  

Ethan’s hand flew to the bridge of his nose and up to carefully rub his eyes. 

This has gotta be good. 

I waited patiently and eagerly for this story. She couldn’t have been Ethan’s type and yet… What happened!? 

Eyes still shut tight, he grumbled, “What’s there to tell?” 

“Obviously something happened,” I couldn’t help but mock, “You slept together!” 

“Yes, and it’s something I do not like to dwell on.” 

“Sorry, buddy, but it looks like she does.” 

He groaned. Then shifted in his chair. Ethan took a long drag of his drink. And just when I figured he was going to wait this out until one of us changed the subject, he spoke; 

“A moment of weakness a few years back. And she was…” 

Ah! It’s actually happening! Ethan’s telling a salacious story! 

Shifting in my seat and placing my head in my hands to give him my full attention; My brows and smile grew as I finished the sentence for him, “Eager?” 

He scowled. 

“Jesus Christ, Ethan, just tell me what happened!” 

“I will not go into details.” 

“Fine.” I made a motion with my hand for him to continue without the juicy details. 

“Harper and I had just ended things for good not long before…” 

We ended up going back and forth for a while - Ethan not wanting to give anything up and me pulling as much as I could out of him. Long story short, Ethan was in a weird mental state after breaking up with Harper for the hundredth and final time in their six year relationship. He took up a conference opportunity to get away for two nights. Knowing how much he loves people, Ethan spent most of his time drowning his senses at the hotel bar. And low and behold, enter Hillary. 

From the sounds of it she was agreeable and very very forward. And Ethan was so lost in liquor that her voice didn’t irritate him as much as it did the next morning, and every single time they were in close proximity thereafter. Hillary had been going through a separation with her husband and needed a distraction just as bad. Really, who could blame her? Toting Ethan around would be the best revenge. 

The first night of his stay was fine - apparently the sex was satisfactory and she didn’t do anything remarkably memorable. Or so he says. I still think she looks like a squawker. He didn’t linger around long after before retreating to his hotel room. Then the next afternoon he was bored and weak and agreed to lunch. And lunch turned into drinks which turned into round two. In his room. And she didn’t leave. She wasn’t leaving. So Ethan bought an earlier plane ticket, and shook her awake before checking out. 

And every conference since she seems to want to entertain a rematch. 

“Oh my god, you’re horrible!” I exclaimed ever delightfully. This was hilarious! 

“I shouldn’t really be surprised. You flew to another continent after we slept together.” Shaking my head, a stupid little smirk on my lips I asked, “Have you ever had a one night stand before?” 

“Wha - of course I have!” 

“One’s that didn’t end up with you getting on a plane?” 

He leaned back and folded his arms across his chest. “If you must know, I’ve had my fair share in undergrad.” 

Now it was my turn to send a condescending “mhm” his way. 

We spoke longer and polished off our plates - not a single crumb remained. This was nice. Really nice getting to be close to him again and just being friends. Telling stories and exchanging playful jabs here and there. It’s how I fell for the idiot in the first place. 

Baby steps.     

-

Two hours after we arrived the server came over with the bill. 

She was friendly and lovely the whole meal. The best part about her style of service is that she let us just exist and didn’t check up all that often. When she did I could tell she overheard someone of the crap Ethan and I were spewing. She had one of those knowing smiles, like she was in on our jokes the entire time. 

“Can I just say, you guys are adorable,” she relayed with the brightest of smiles after setting the padfolio on the table, her hands clapping together excitedly. She looked like a child who had just met Santa Claus for the first time. 

L O L she thinks we’re together.  

At that I actually laughed out loud before informing, “We’re colleagues. In town for a conference.” 

The horror on the girl's face said it all. 

“Oh! My mistake, sorry. I can split the bill for you.” She reached for the pad where it sat in front of Ethan. 

He grabbed the black leather at the same time I spoke;  

"Nope, dinner’s on him.” I cupped a hand over my mouth and pointed a not-at-all discreet thumb towards him, “He'll get reimbursed," I laughed more to myself than anything. 

She smiles, a little relieved by my warmth, then turns to look at Ethan - silently asking permission or if it’s okay that he pays. Generally looking for some sort of direction from the old man.    

He shoots the server a look. Then forks over his credit card. 

As she saunters off, I smile at him sweetly, “Thank you.” 

Of course he rolls his eyes. But that rise in the corners of his mouth says so much more. 

________________________________________

A/N: sorry it’s shit. thank you for sticking with this series 💕 we’ve just got one chapter left! 

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[mumofadaofficial-blog]

C Sections - The ‘Easy’ way out

Firstly, what I have titled this is bullshit :) 

Secondly, no matter what way you give birth to your child whether it be naturally, assisted, c-section etc you are amazing for doing so. Not only have you grown that tiny human with your own body, you then bring he/she into the world in whatever way possible or necessary at that time - so fucking well done you! 

My mum told me from the start that every pregnancy and birth has its own story - and that is so very true. No two are the same and each and everyone should be celebrated for the greatness that it is. 

My personal experience was via an emergency c-section and I want to share that with you. 

From day one I had it all planned out, I wanted a water birth and I wanted it all to be as natural as possible. Id seen on one born, various videos and pictures on the internet of that special moment when a mother holds their child for the first time, I wanted that and the closeness that came with it. Unfortunately, having to be induced and the aftermath that followed that obviously wasn’t the way my story was meant to go. 

When you get told you need to have a section your all systems go, your ready for it, you just want your baby out and safe. You and anything else in the world suddenly have no importance anymore and all you want is to hear those little baby cries.

I remember signing a consent form that I never read, I don’t remember getting undressed and putting a gown on so god knows who did that and I remember going into theatre where they were talking me through things and getting me prepped for surgery. 

I don’t know what they said to me, I really wasn’t listening. All I can remember asking again and again is where Nath was and why wasn’t he in there. (Of corse, like the movies he was getting all scrubbed up - dishy).

It was that moment sat on the edge of the table that the panic set in, you suddenly feel very alone in a room full of people. I became scared of what was happening and the thought that I was about to undergo the first major surgery I’d ever had. Jesus Christ, I’ve only ever broke my little finger before and thats when I was about 8, so this was big time. I was told to curve myself over a cushion whilst they injected my spine, then immediately laid down on the table, and asked to lift my legs - couldn’t do it, job done. Thankfully Nath had come in by then and I felt more relaxed like I could cope with what was going on. 

When it was all underway I can remember saying to Nathan that it felt like the doctor was making a pizza with my stomach 😂 He thought I was high! It’s the oddest thing, to be able to feel that someone is doing something, but to have no sensation whatsoever. Within about 15 minutes of entering the room, Ada was born. I then had to be sewn up which took about three times as long as the birth! Also, absolutely mortified that it isn’t like one born every minute where you have a gown covering your modesty. Nothing modest about realising afterwards that the doctors have just been staring at your vagina for the past half hour or so and it definitely wasn’t covered up. (I mean they probably wasn’t looking at it at all, but you know what I mean). 

I was took into a side room afterward for recovery where they fitted a catheter, what amazing things those are! Don’t even know you need a wee and that things filling itself up! Definitely don’t get confused with catheter and cannula when talking afterwards…done that far too many times and got some strange looks! It was then that the mum guilt started to set in, not only was I worried about Ada, I felt like I had failed her. Everything had been planned so perfectly in my mind of how I wanted it to go, and I felt like I had failed to deliver that to myself and my child. I felt like I wasn’t capable of giving birth, so someone else had to intervene and do it for me. (I realise now that I was stupid to think that and I did what I needed to as a mother, but I’m sure a lot of people who have had a section will understand where I am coming from). I’ve since seen a meme that said ‘I had an epidural, then I had a c-section, then I bottle fed, and now I’m sitting here at the playground wondering what all the guilt was about because my kid is just as weird as yours’ Oh so true!!

Then the time comes when you’ve managed to get some movement and feeling back into your legs and you have to stand up. Now I was told ’Stand with your legs, don’t push with your arms and don’t pull on your tummy muscles’ Easier fucking said than done Susan! (I don’t think her name was Susan, but it fits) You’ve just had your stomach muscles and womb sliced through, but just use your legs that also have no strength because there definitely a bit numb still but your desperate to get up and see your baby. 

Now when that aesthetic starts to wear off, I am not going to sugar coat it, its fucking painful. Your fully aware of whats going on down there even when you just breath, god forbid you need to sneeze or cough! I think I definitely got up and about too soon, I was dizzy and lightheaded and felt like the blood had drained out of me when I got back into bed after seeing Ada. And I happily accepted any drug they wanted to give me, I couldn’t tell you what they were but they helped, so thanks for that part Susan. 

The first night was a bit of a blur with how I was feeling because of everything else that was going on but I know simple things, like moving in bed and trying to sit up was hard work. I was given medication throughout the night by a midwife, who informed me I had been given some sort of super ibuprofen up my bum whilst on the operating table 😂 - which apparently I consented too but I had no idea, good work doc, didn’t even realise. 

The following day I decided I needed to have a shower and sort my life out, all whilst Nathan was doing a great job of whizzing me around the hospital backwards in a wheelchair because we hadn’t quite got the hang of it going forward. Thankfully there was a seat in the shower, I’d never of had the strength to be able to stand for that length of time. It’s at times like that when you realise how much you take for granted being able to do everyday things. I remember sitting there and crying out of frustration, feeling like a massive, naked, deflated beach ball. Good job Nathan loves me because no one should have to see that haha. He washed my hair, washed me and then helped me up and got me dry.  Graphic bit coming up…sorry. SO for anyone who ends up having a c section, make sure you take your pad and fresh knickers into the bathroom with you. I am saying this after learning a lesson, I did not, and was most shocked and mortified when it looked like Satan had released himself all over the bathroom floor. Nathan was pretty shocked too, he ran and got a midwife - apparently its all normal! So relax 😅

Something else that comes with c-sections…knee high compression socks. Now if your by yourself, you better ask for help. There is no way whatsoever that you will get them bad boys on single handedly after that op, Nath had to pretty much choke slam me into mine. Also, really not the best fashion accessory when its 30 something degrees outside…I think mine lasted about two days!

And then comes the dreaded day, the first poo 😳 Id been taking iron pills, three a day. To try and counteract the affect that they have on you I’d been given lactulose. Nothing was happening, I think probably 5 days past and then the urge came! I remember sitting on that toilet and wanting to push but there isn’t a single thing in your body thats gonna let you do that, so you just sit and wait, like your waiting for fucking Christmas. That was no bloody Christmas let me tell you, black poop! Straight on google to check I wasn’t dying…turns out, just the iron tablets 😂 

Totally never realised you have to have injections after a c section either, absolutely fine when the midwives are doing it for you, then you get discharged…AND YOU HAVE TO DO IT YOURSELF! Theres something really hard about trying to give yourself an injection in your stomach, id have to psych myself up about ten times before id actually get it done. 

Before I was discharged I had a lady come and do some exercises with me, and show me the correct way to cough e.g. holding your stomach. All fine as you know when your going to cough, but a sneeze! Oh lord, they just pop up out of nowhere, no preparation, nothing. I sneezed unexpectedly one night and was convinced I had split my stomach open, obvs Dr. Nathan checked the situation out for me - just being a drama queen as usual!

You are also told ‘Don’t do too much, and don’t lift anything heavier than a kettle for 6 weeks’ Pretty sure Ada came out weighing more than a kettle so that was that one buggered! I definitely used to do too much around the house, washing etc, but you know about it afterwards. I think for a good few weeks I just ached continuously, Getting off the sofa, sitting up in bed, walking upstairs could all be pretty hard work somedays. 

Bleeding, who knew you could survive after losing so much blood. And just when you think it’s stopped, BOOM, guess who’s back, back again! Another thing I googled to see if I was dying, I wasn’t, and good old google informed me that everyone is different but it can last for a few months on and off, GREAT! What a glam life us mums have. 

Personally I am gutted that I won’t experience a natural birth, the chances of me having another baby is currently slim to none and even then I would book in for a c-section because I am too scared of what could happen after Ada. 

I think the point of this is to be mindful of what you say to someone, e.g. the easy way out, too posh to push etc. Not everyone has a choice, the ideal birth they have created in their mind has been taken away from them, some people won’t ever get the chance to experience a natural birth, a contraction, that first hold. Some people might opt to have a c-section, and that is totally fine! We all have to do what is best for us and has our Childs best interest at heart. 

So whatever choice you make or have to make, do it for you and your baby - fuck what everyone else says, this is your story, not theirs. 

Amy x