Hello lovelies!

It's been a little more than a minute, but here I am, and here is the chapter you've all been waiting for. 

Keep in mind, it's a bit of sensitive chapter because it's Harry's past and all. So that's a bit of a mini warning. 

Also, please don't forget to vote and comment, because I love reading the little things you have to say.

So, without further ado, I hope you enjoy this one, my darling rosy tulips 🌷

♬ ✥*

Harry.

The second I shut the door behind me, I felt as if I was sucked into a vortex, one that I wasn't sure I'd be able to get out from.

That flashback hit me like a fucking freight train, unbearable to my heart and mind. Yet, one part of me wasn't so surprised by it — my soul.

It was almost as if it didn't mind reacting the way I did to the revelation.

Had it known from the start?

But if that was the case, how come I didn't feel the same way when I met Serenity? All of my emotions towards her didn't give me a single clue until everything was finally able to work in sync.

Or was it that my soul was working, but my heart failed to open up?

Yeah, that's probably what it was.

That's where emotions and feelings spark from, right?

The human body is so fucking confusing, and Valentina wasn't helping with figuring out how to navigate throughout mine. She just put the world puzzling as a standpoint in my dictionary with a capital fucking P.

Everything just became a shit ton foggier with the way I saw things and processed them. It was all an utter mess, and I had no idea how to truly go upon with things.

The way that Serenity held me so quick was exactly what I needed — to be held by the person I loved. She knew what to do at the right time. If only I had the same ability. The feeling I got from Essie was so damn powerful and heartwarming, and I just wanted to remain in her arms forever. As much as pain and confusion I was in, I was still aware that we weren't alone. The words she whispered in my ear were only for me, just loud enough so that I could hear them. Indirectly, I showed off my relationship with her because I would've had a meltdown if I didn't. I tried to keep my genuine emotions as subtle as possible, but I'm sure it was a bloody fail. They saw, and that meant that they saw a part of me that I kept hidden from everyone.

When I sat in the living room while Essie stood with Mateo, I couldn't give two shits about the fact that they saw how anxious I was based on my bouncing legs and fidgeting hands. It was a habit of mine — one that they now knew. I wasn't stupid knowing how my girl was giving Mateo a piece of her mind. She couldn't keep quiet to those who bothered me to save her life.

It showed with my ex-girlfriend.

Boy, did she nail her to the fucking floor.

So, it was easy to tell that by her fake smiles and how Mateo occasionally spoke through clenched teeth that he was pissed off. I knew how he was because I'd known him for years.

Known. It became past tense since I clearly didn't know him anymore.

But when it came to Valentina, I was standing here in a room with my biological mother, and a lock suddenly bolted on my mouth — not a word uttered.

I was frozen and didn't know what to say anymore.

She already told me everything about who she was and why she came to find me after these years. That was the same day that I'd collapsed from being overwhelmed. But actually, I could put the blame for that on Mateo. He was the man I was betrayed by. He was the one I trusted, and the man who I thought would never lie to me; however,  my mentor knew more about me than I did.

I was fucking mistaken.

Another question came down to something: should I really be mad at Valentina?

But the answer also put me in that puzzled state — again, a capital fucking P.

I had every right to be angry with her. She just up and left. Yeah, I get why she did it and why she couldn't find me sooner, but it just hurt.

Hurt.

That's the other part that it led to: I had every right to be upset because of her.

I always knew that my moth—Lauren, I guess, never treated me like how a proper mother should. I never felt that love that I feel like I should've deserved. And I got the same treatment from my father and brother.

It was something that I never thought about until when it came to being bullied in school and on the holidays. Those were when I felt utterly alone and was truly aware that no one really loved me for me.

Madison obviously never helped with that.

The holidays were about her and only her.

I wanted to feel that love, and I found that with Serenity, her family, and friends.

Now, Valentina came out of nowhere wanting to be a part of that in my life.

I wasn't sure if she deserved a spot in my mind, but even if she did, nothing could remove her from being there.

"Harry?" Her voice was soft as she interrupted my thoughts, the accent prominent through it.

That only put a reminder to me that I was, biologically, half-Spanish.

"Yes?" I replied firmly.

"You, um — you wanted to talk," she said, fidgeting in her spot.

It was clear that she wasn't sure what to do. We were both standing here for God knows how long already, and until now, I hadn't said a word.

But I was well aware of something as her presence was directly behind me: I was mad.

"You," I seethed, turning around, pointing my finger at her face. "Y-you didn't try hard enough. You claim that you tried so desperately to keep me, but that's a shit truth right there."

Her jaw dropped, surprised at my sudden statement. I took her off-guard in letting her believe it would be a casual-ish conversation, but it clearly went off to a rough start.

"I tried —"

"No, you didn't! You fucking didn't!" I snapped, and she flinched at my harsh tone.

Valentina swallowed thickly before trying to take a step forward towards me, but I gave her a warning glare. She stopped in her spot, clasping her hands together in a soft plead for something. I could see the tears from earlier glisten under the shadows in the room.

"Believe me, Harry. I did." The way she said my name with a voice so desperate for forgiveness. No matter how she tried, I wasn't giving into it. "But what happened —"

"No! No fucking buts! I don't care about your past! I don't care that my dad ran you out of the country. I don't care about all of that shit you told me. Right now, I want to be a selfish prick and tell you that you didn't try hard enough to keep me. I'm your flesh and blood, and it was as if I meant nothing to you. How could you do something like that? And then come here, somehow making me remember a part of my childhood that apparently existed. What the fuck?"

My fists tightened as I spoke through clenched teeth. The anger I was feeling had turned into rage. It was something that I hadn't felt in a long time. I had zero compassion for the woman standing in front of me at this moment.

"I couldn't take you with me. I begged Eric. It killed me to be taken away from me. I remember the way you cried when I left," she spoke through choked sobs. At this point, she was turning hysterical, trying to keep it together but utterly failing. "It broke my heart. I tried running to get you, but they pulled me back. Our workers, the butler, some of those security men. I couldn't reach you."

"You still could've —"

"He hit you," Valentina said firmly. Crisp and clear. Nothing could falter her words and be mistaken for anything else.

Frozen.

I couldn't take a step forward or back. My jaw dropped, brows softened as my fists released.

The sorrow was evident on her face, grimacing as she remembered her agonising memories — the same ones that I couldn't recall.

But she relived them in her mind.

The moment reeled in her mind, every detail playing after another, like a film in an empty theatre. Only one person sat in the centre of the space, chained to her chair as she forced herself to watch it once more — Valentina.

A sudden breath escaped my lips, unaware that I was holding it in.

"W-what did you say?"

Her brown eyes shut as she looked down. I saw a single teardrop fall down her cheek, hitting the ground before she slowly lifted back up to meet my gaze. "You wouldn't stop crying. One of the maids was holding onto you, but he took you. He hit you to get you to stop, then shoved you to the ground. He said he'd hit you again if I tried to grab you. I — I couldn't. I couldn't see him do that to you. I had to leave."

My dad was a monster in the business world, but I could never even picture him doing something physical like that.

"N-no. You're lying. Y-you're fucking lying!"

"I'm not. I swear to you, Harry."

"He wouldn't do that to me! You left and —"

"You were screaming, calling for me. I can never forget the look on your face that day — nunca. It was the worst day of my life," she cried. (never)

And for the first time in this room, I felt my cheeks dampen, holding in the same sorrow she emitted.

"I would never lie to you, Harry. Yes, I hid the truth from you, but I would never lie. Your father did that so much and I hated. I was crushed when he had an affair and treated me like dirt. I was hurt so much by Eric. He took you away, the love of my life, my baby," she said, tears falling down her cheeks.

And every single one was affecting me. I just wanted to talk to her. I never expected to hear something like this — never.

Taking a deep breath, she looked me in the eyes as she spoke her following words, "I almost lost you once, I lost you after, and I'm not losing you again."

I felt like my heart had stopped. Almost lost you once.

"What are you talking about? Almost?"

My mouth spoke before I thought the question through. Everything was too much, lost as the truth was unravelling. A piece of canvas, so thick and sturdy, but the tiniest snip causes it to rip in seconds. 

That was exactly what this situation was.

An accidental and unplanned trip down memory lane, that turned into a long, bumpy walk back down the mountain. A mountain filled with misery, pain, destruction of what could've been hope and happiness was simply an avalanche, all tumbling down in a powerful disaster.

Calming her sobs, Valentina wrapped her arms around her frail body; she swallowed nervously as her gaze fell to the floor, then back up to me.

"Y-you..." she paused, taking a deep breath. "... you were born premature, Harry, at 34 weeks. I hoped to have you healthy for my entire nine months, but that didn't happen. You were in my stomach for just less than seven. I was going to lose you from complications. I knew something was wrong that day, I could feel it.

"I didn't want to find out if you were a boy or girl until I gave birth. Eric wasn't with me in the delivery room, he showed up after. When I told him he had a son, I saw the care in his eyes and prayed you would make it — and you did. I loved you when before I knew, but his only came after," Valentina explained softly, wincing at the moment she mentioned my father.

"You didn't cry when you were born, and I didn't get to hold you until after you were taken to the NICU. I felt like my soul was ripped from, but then you did. For a minute, I'd thought you were a stillborn. They took a single photo of you on my chest before they took you away from me. I didn't know what what was happening. All they said was they had to hurry because something was wrong. None of that made sense to me. They took you away from me so quickly, saying they had to save you.

"I fought the nurses to get them to take me where you were, and they took me. When I saw you through the glass, you were so small and weak — even the doctor didn't think you'd make it. Sometimes..." she paused to wipe more tears that fell from her eyes. "...always I thank your father for praying that you'd make it. I had five wonderful years with you, never knowing that it was the only time I'd spend with you." Her voice was gentle, telling me the story of how I came into the world.

A story that I never would've known if it wasn't for her appearing in my life. Hearing it made me think about the pictures she showed me — ones that were nonexistent while growing up — and I did look much smaller.

There wasn't a lie spoken.

Rubbing my hands over my face, I let out a deep sigh.

"You never told me when we met. Why did you hide this from me?" I asked as my arms lowered.

"I wanted to give you the basic story. I wasn't going to keep this to myself forever, but I was going to tell you if you wanted me in your life."

My brows furrowed at her statement. "If?"

Was she fucking mental?

"You just said that you weren't going to lose me again, and now you're telling me if I want you in my life. Make up your mind. What the fuck do you want from me?" I snapped.

"I want you to want me in your life. I said that I'm not going to lose you, but if you don't want me, I will have to live with that. As I told you, being forced out of your life because of your father's actions was something that destroyed me. You, my son, and Estela, you two are my life. My sweet children mean everything to me, and I have never forgotten about you. Even when I thought I finally was able to go to you and I got sick, I think what helped heal me was that I wanted the day to come so I can be your mother."

Valentina poured her heart and soul into everything she was telling me. The honesty was dripping with each word, begging me to give her a chance — a chance so that one day I would call her 'mum.'

I pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to process it all without getting overwhelmed. The more she told me, the more it affected my soul.

But one thing caught my attention.

It was the same thing that Serenity told me. That similar love that she gave me was there, evident and clear as day.

A mother's love for her child was different than a lover to another.

I could see the difference. I saw it with how my Essie was treated by her parents. It was the same, yet different.

When I opened my eyes, I saw her take a couple of hesitant steps towards me. "Y-you want me?"

Hearing it from her, never once sounding like how my moth—Lauren would even have considered saying. I once remembered how she grimaced when she said how proud she was of me for scoring the winning goal in polo at the academy in front of dozens of people. It was one of the few times that my parents showed up there. Apparently, neither of them had anything to do that day, and that's why they could make it.

I was so happy. But I had a feeling that there was something else about why they showed up, something that I found out later:

Press.

"Harry, I wouldn't be here if I didn't," she spoke softly with those sincere brown eyes of hers.

They were coloured irises that sucked you in and always made sure you gave your full attention to that person.

Serenity once said I had that.

I never believed her because I simply never understood how that could physically happen. At least, that was until now.

And then, Valentina said something that I never once would've ever expected to hear from her. Hell, something that I never knew anyone else would say.

"Can I tell you something?"

Tell me something.

That's it. She was going to give me a fucking heart attack tonight.

I thought I wasn't looking at her, believing that I somehow managed to put my focus on anything else, but with a blink, my gaze was staring at her. Never wanting to see anything else.

My thoughts and mind were simply occupied with a woman who was, with every moment passing by, making her way towards getting the title of my truthful mother.

"Go ahead."

With a brief glance at her lap, she met my eyes once more. "Your sister's name is actually Esmerelda, but she wanted to go by Estela when she was young."

Strangely, I didn't wince when she said that word: sister.

After all, nothing could hide the truth from that anymore; Tommy and I officially had a half-sister.

My brows furrowed at her random statement. "So?"

"I named her Esmerelda because it means 'emerald' in Spanish."

Emerald. The stuffed tiger — its eyes.

My eyes.

"It's what I saw every time I looked at you when you were a baby and growing up. They never changed, only kept getting more beautiful. So, so beautiful."

I swallowed thickly. The stories introducing themselves in my present life were just at a standstill, unsure exactly where I should place them.

Where should they be, Styles? The pile you like or dislike? You told her to make up her mind, yet you can't seem to do shit either.

Bloody fucking hell.

If only Serenity was with me, maybe she could help place them out for me; but then again, she'd tell me something that would make me figure it out on my own. I couldn't win.

But I could if I wanted to.

"Why did she choose Estela then? What? She didn't like having something related to me or something?"

Please say no. Please say no.

I didn't need to have my heart broken by another person.

"No." She shook her head. "I used to tell her that same poem when she was young, but in Spanish. She could never pronounce the 'r,' so it came to Estela. Her name also means star."

Essie. Serenity's nickname — star.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

The Antares star — what she saw in my eyes.

And there was her studio — Starlight.

Everything in my life was related together.

When Essie told me that the stars aligned for us, as our zodiacs were a perfect match.

Another star entered my life, in my galaxy, and she was here to stay until the light burned out; all several million lightyears away.

That's if I wanted her to.

Could I just keep one, or would her mother have to be in the picture, too?

But her mother was also mine.

Fucking nonsense. All of it.

My breathing picked up, feeling my hands shake by my sides. I didn't know what to fucking do. Serenity wasn't beside me to help. She wasn't here to tell me that everything would be okay or even place her hand on my back.

It was overwhelming.

I tried hard not to get lost in my thoughts and control my body as best I could. I didn't need her to see that I got panic attacks.

Breathe.

I took my girl's counting method to relax — and it helped.

One, two, three, four, five, six...

That's when I realised that even if she wasn't beside me, I truly had control over myself.

"Harry?"

"Yeah?"

"I know it's all too much for you," she spoke softly.

"Yeah, no shit," I said firmly, and she winced at my tone. Serenity wouldn't be happy with that. "Sorry."

I couldn't help but let out a harsh tone with her sometimes. I mean, you can only 'change' so much.

"I just — I don't want you to tell me to leave or push me out. Por favor." (Please)

"I don't know what I can do for you. I don't know what to do. I don't know anything. You've literally disrupted my life, and it's driving me fucking mental. I had things perfectly figured out and was happy, but you didn't let that last for so long."

"Lo siento, Harry. I really am sorry."

I let out a sigh before walking towards the window. The city lights sparkled below, Christmas decorations and trees shown behind uncovered windows. In the distance, I saw a couple walking in the streets, stopping as they glanced up at a mistletoe hung under an awning. The two smile before diving into the tradition, their lips meeting in a kiss. Looking up at the sky, only to see a lone sky peeking through the thick clouds.

Resting my forehead against the cold glass, I shut my eyes while maintaining to capture that scene vividly in my mind. Silence surrounded us as I felt my heart pound in my chest, the sound heavy in my ears.

I wasn't exactly sure what came over me or what possessed me to speak, but I still found a way to voice myself.

"Tell me something," I spoke, slightly over a whisper. "About me. Anything."

I stood still, refusing to turn and see what her expression was.

Whether she was expecting it or surprised or something else, I didn't want to know.

I just wanted to hear what she had to say.

Maybe that would help me make a decision.

Or maybe it wouldn't.

"You were supposed to be a Christmas baby. That was your original due date, but you wanted to come earlier. Curious to meet me, tal vez." (perhaps)

I needed more.

"What else?"

"When you started walking, you didn't stand for long before you fell again. You were so persi—um, how you say? Tried hard to do it." Her voice was delicate as she let out a small laugh. "But you surprised us when I woke up to you playing with your toys on the floor by your crib. Somehow you broke free and climbed down it.

"You loved playing with toys that had music in them. You always sat on my lap when I played the piano. The way you smiled, me encantó. I loved it. It was one of those smiles that could make anyone happy. I hadn't seen that since you were young, except when you were just standing with Serenity. The way you look at her is the way you look at someone you love." 

I felt my chest tighten, then slowly turned around to see her. She'd moved to sit on the couch, her hands in her lap as she met my gaze with a small upwards curl on her lips.

I couldn't mirror it, but I didn't frown.

"What was my first word?" I asked quietly.

"Nina."

I furrowed my brows. "Nina?"

"My nickname. It's what your father called me. You only said that once until you got older. We never thought you could pronounce the letter 'n' as a baby, but you did. We knew you were special."

Taking in her words, I nodded once. That was something I was never told growing up: special.

Hell, I didn't even know it was normal to have my own feelings and know that I could make my own decisions. I went from a toxic childhood to toxic schooling to a toxic family and to toxic a friendship and relationship.

I knew I was clever with my career, but with everything else, I didn't know shit.

At least, that was until I met Serenity.

"Did I speak Spanish?"

She smiled. "Sí. You spoke more Spanish than English because I was mostly at home with you. You used to laugh whenever your father spoke because he sounded funny."

I bit my bottom lip as I furrowed my brows. "I don't — I don't remember any of that."

"You were so young. That's okay."

"No. It's not," I spoke through clenched teeth as I shook my head. "I want to remember more. I only remembered that memory, but I have nothing else. Nothing."

Valentina met my gaze, giving me one of those kind smiles she keeps throwing my way.

"You were a baby, Harry, only a child. It's normal that you can't remember anything."

"I know that. It's just — fuck..." I trailed off, pinching the bridge of my nose.

"What is it, mi tulipán?

No. Absolutely fucking not.

That couldn't mean that.

"Is that — does that mean —?"

"My tulip? Yes." Valentina nodded. "You loved sitting by them in the garden. Whenever spring came along for those few years we had together, you were always there beside me while I planted flowers."

Fuck. Yeah, she really was trying to give me a heart attack.

"I'm trying so hard to find it in me to hate you. To despise you with everything in me..." I paused, watching her expression drop into a deep pool of pain. "...but I can't. I just fucking can't."

"I know. Lo siento, Harry. I didn't want to make your life complicated. I just wanted to get my son back. It's hard as a mother to have your child ripped away from you," she told me with tears in her eyes.

"You know..." I spoke, letting out a deep breath, leaning back to rest my head against the cold glass. "...I always wanted a mother who treated me like I was actually hers. A mother who treats her son right. It all makes sense why my mum never really cared for me — I was never hers."

"I'm sorry I wasn't there for you. I'm sorry I didn't try harder, as you said. I swear I thought you were happy. I'm sorry I never reached out when I was sick."

Looking at Valentina, I watched her solemn expression as she seemed to have thought back to her past. She could've changed possibly things, or even maybe the struggling time she had with her treatment.

My brows pinched together as I saw her gaze lower down to her lap.

Slowly, I pushed myself off the window and made my way towards her, sitting next to her.

"You're better now, though, right? Like you never lied about that?"

The words came out of my mouth without processing them.

I actually cared about that. I wasn't fucking heartless.

"I am. Mateo made sure I got the best doctors so I can get better," she said, and I nodded.

"So you actually love him?"

Valentina let out a light laugh at my question.

Apparently, I really was a comedian. Serenity would be proud.

But if only I knew what I said, that was actually funny.

With a smile, she spoke, "I really do. He makes me very happy. Muy feliz." (Very happy)

"Well, he's not exactly on the list of people I like now," I mumbled, "If I was fucking Santa, he deserves a mountain of fucking coal."

And that made her laugh again.

A boast of happiness that I've never heard from her before. It was one of those laughs that were so utterly contagious that my lips couldn't help but curl upwards, a small chuckle escaping through them.

When our eyes met, she gave me the warmest smile that I melted in — and I smiled back.

"You used to eat dirt," she randomly spoke, and I matched the same laugh she let out just moments prior.

"What?"

"Sí. Sometimes I wondered if you liked the tulips or the dirt more. I was so happy when you stopped. You made everything so dirty and brought it in the house when you walked."

"What got me to stop?"

"You ate a worm. Poor thing, you screamed and cried. Wouldn't go near the garden for a few days, but the colours of the flowers called you back, I suppose."

I smiled.

Do I tell her? Do I tell her? Do I —?

"I have a flower garden. It's um — it's on the roof," I spoke softly, feeling my cheeks redden.

Her eyes widened slightly before showing that warm expression she's always held.

"I never would've expected anything else."

My brows furrowed at that.

"What does that mean? How would you even guess that?"

"You always had a love for them. With a love for something like that, it always remains in your heart," she said, her eyes looking deeply in mine.

Her words were straightforward and ultimately truthful.

I wet my lips before pressing them tightly together. My thoughts rolled around in a mess as I struggled to process everything, bringing it to a confusing conclusion.

"I don't get it. How is it that you barely know me, but I feel like you know everything about me?"

She smiled. "I suppose it's just a motherly instinct."

"No. That can't be it. And I know that it's not that fucking PI your husband hired either," I huffed.

A slight snicker escaped her at my word choice.

"No. It's not from him."

"Then how?"

"Harry, it's not something I can explain to you. I can't even explain it to myself," she answered. "I don't know you, but..."

Valentina paused, and I urged her to continue.

"But what?"

Her hand slowly reached out to cover mine, and my eyes immediately darted towards the connection. "I'd like to get to know you. I want you to know you, mi tulipán, my sweet son. That would mean everything to me."

I was unsure what to say to her. It was too much. Suddenly, I pushed her hand hand away, standing up to walk back to the windows. 

"How do I trust you? How can I trust you?" I questioned, tilting my head slightly over my shoulder to glance at her.

A soft sigh escaped Valentina's chest, placing both hands on her lap. She looked down and up at me; however, not a hint of a lie was read as she said, "I can't tell you that just because I'm your mother, it should be enough. I know you've been hurt, and I can't understand how much it was. I want to know, though. I want to be beside you and help take some of that pain you had in your past away from you, and —"

"Serenity already did that," I spoke firmly, and she nodded.

"There is no way for you to know unless you try. I don't plan on hurting you, and I never intended to."

I pursed my lips while turning around. "So what you're saying is that I can? I can do that?"

"If you want, yes. We can both try together."

Thinking about what she said, I let out a deep breath. "Do I have to give you an answer right now?"

"No." Her head shook, showing a soft smile. "Take as much time as you need."

I bit my bottom lip as I nodded.

Why couldn't I tell her right away? It wasn't a complicated question.

But then the unexpected happened before I could truly process them. And apparently, my mouth was suddenly eager to speak.

"I'll try. I can't promise you how long I'll take to warm up and if I'll fully trust you. But I'm willing to try. You and Estela."

She grinned lightly, surprised and incredibly pleased with my reply.

And then she spoke, a hint of teasing in her voice. "Not Mateo?"

"Definitely not Mateo."

Small chuckles left our mouths, painting the air with a little trial and effort.

"You don't know how happy I am right now, Harry." Her voice was soft as she spoke.

"I know. I can see that," I stated the obvious.

Valentina's gaze changed slightly, looking at me with a warmer expression. Something was brewing in her mind, and I could tell that she was debating on saying it.

And I was proven right when she said, "I have something to give you."

"If that's a present, you can take that back with you. I don't want shit from you."

I'd say that was one step forward, two steps back with my tone of voice — and select word choice.

But the woman simply shook her head with a smile.

"It's not a present. It's actually something of yours."

She leaned down to grab the bag, reaching it out for me to take. So I walked towards her and sat down with the item in hand.

"Go on, open it. Dale," she encouraged. (go on)

Slowly, I removed the wrapping paper from the bag and pulled out what was inside, only to find a knitted sweater — newborn size.

"It was the first thing I'd made before you were born. I made so many different colours and patterns. I was so happy, and all I thought about was you. Of course, you were much smaller, it took some time until you grew into it."

She handed it to me, and I immediately felt the softness of the cardigan. Delicate and gentle, the touch, so comfortable and cosy. Baby blue in tone, a pastel hue for the buttons, and the feeling so smooth as I grazed my fingertips above it. The wear and tear evident on the history-shown fabric, though still in pristine condition. Anyone could tell the love was held in this single piece, never failing to bring a smile to a face.

As it lay upon my lap, all I could do was stare at the cardigan, feeling tears prickle at my eyes. There were hundreds of suppressed memories of a baby wearing it. Giggling as the mother showed silly expressions for entertainment, crying for food, getting antsy for a diaper change. And then finally feeling warm against a body in a dire need for a cuddle of pure love — a baby that was once me.

My eyes caught upon a stitch on the left of the chest. My initials were embroidered in cream, complimenting the sweater perfectly. She personalized it to me, a true gift and staple that it was mine.

"I remember once you finally grew out of it, you cried because you loved wearing it. I think it was the colour that you enjoyed, so I ended up making you another one in a bigger size. You were so cute as a baby. Everyone thought so," Valentina said, letting out a small laugh.

"I'd say so too," I spoke a little too quick, not realising what I'd just said before looking up with flushed cheeks.

I mean, from those baby pictures I'd finally seen, it was true.

Serenity would say that my narcissism showed up right then and there.

But Valentina just smiled at my words.

"How come you only had one kid from my dad? Did you not want more?" I asked carefully.

"I did," she replied confidently. "But your father didn't. Instead, he got a son, and that was exactly what he wanted. And I supposed he got one more from, um..."

"Lauren," I finished for her.

"Yes."

"Why do you think he cheated?" I spoke, and I saw her briefly grimace at my sudden, yet random, question.

I was asking things that I had no idea if they truly meant anything or if I was crossing a line, but whatever came to mind, I spoke.

But maybe that one was too much.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to —"

"No te preocupes. It's okay, Harry," Valentina said with a small smile. (Don't worry)

That woman smiled far too much for my current liking, but I went with it. She really seemed happy, even with whatever I threw her way.

And then I thought that that was exactly how I was with Serenity. I never failed to show my real emotions at my utmost joyful state. Valentina seemed the same way.

People say, like father like son. So maybe it was also like mother like s—

No.

Just because you're having a civil conversation with her doesn't automatically make me her son.

Biologically, yes. Every other way, no.

"I think it was my status. Where I came from. I wasn't exactly from a rich family. We barely got by, but Eric accepted that. He was more stable than me, and when we got married, we made it work. Maybe he just thought that was still more important even though we were just working class people."

"Nothing new, in all honesty," I stated flatly. "That's him in a nutshell."

"I guess he didn't change from when I last knew him."

"I'm pretty sure that would be an understatement. Of course, I obviously didn't know him then."

A small sigh escaped her lips, a quiver hanging onto them.

"I'm sorry that he hit you, Harry. De verdad lo siento," she apologised for him. (I really am)

"Why are you the one apologising? You did nothing wrong," I said.

Wait a second.

No.

"I mean, technically you did..." I furrowed my brows. "...but you didn't. Bloody fucking hell. You get what I mean."

With a slight twitch on the corner of her lips, she nodded with that familiar smile.

"I do."

"Good," I said, thinking about what next to speak, then looked down at the cardigan still in my lap. "So, do you want this back?"

Please say no. I actually liked it. It was a part of my past and something I never had before.

Valentina shook her head. "Keep it. It is yours."

I bit my lip. "M'kay. Thanks."

And just before she was about to speak again, there was a knock on the door before Serenity's head peeked through the gap.

"Everything okay? I — um — just wanted to check on you," she spoke softly.

My girl was probably out there being a nervous wreck.

Fuck.

Clearing my throat, I placed the cardigan on the chair, replying to her as I stood, "Yeah. We're done."

That was it. I ended the conversation, which was already too long for my liking. Hefty and deep, but still more than my emotional self could handle.

I saw her nod, the anxious expression clear on her face.

"I'll be outside," Valentina said, clearly getting the hint that Serenity wanted to see me alone.

I guessed right when she walked out, and Essie came towards me, shutting the door behind her.

And as soon as she was in reach, I pulled her close, wrapping my arms around her waist. I could see the way she was looking at me, concern written all over her face; she could see my tear-stained cheeks but remained silent as she bit the corner of her mouth.

"Heard you yelling earlier, and I got worried. You okay, baby?" she asked, cupping my cheeks while her thumbs gently caressed my jaw.

I gave a slow nod. "Don't know, really, but think I will be. Think I have to process everything properly first. Right now, I'd say I'm fine."

"That's not really an emotion," she clarified lightly with a slight smile.

"I know," I said, sucking in my lips. Her eyes flickered from mine towards the blue fabric on the couch, before setting back at me. But again, she stayed silent at her sighting. "Can we talk later?"

"Whatever, wherever, and whenever you want, Tiger," Essie spoke, giving me a kiss on the cheek.

"Missed you," I said quietly, then moved to nuzzle into her neck as I felt her wrap her arms around my waist. "Love you so much, my starlight."

"I love you more, pretty. I love you so much more," Serenity whispered against my skin.

We stood together for an unknown period, revelling in her scent and feeling the comfort she always provided for me. And once I pulled back, she pressed a kiss on my nose, resting her forehead against mine.

"Do you want me to tell them to leave?"

Thinking about what to reply, I let out a deep breath and briefly shook my head. "No. I want to try that dessert and test the waters a bit more."

I could see the look of uncertainty flash on her face. "Are you sure?"

"With them, I never fucking am," I spoke, chuckling lightly. "I just really liked the way it looked."

She smiled slightly. "Okay. Whatever you want, handsome."

"Thank you, darling," I said, pulling back entirely.

Her brows furrowed. "What are you thanking me for?"

"Being here for me — with me."

"I never want to hear you say that to me again. It's not my job, nor something you have to thank me for. I love you, and I will always be there for you whenever you need me. Whether you're across the globe and wake me up in the middle of the night or just want a hug, I'm here for you. Got it?"

Smirking at her firm tone, I nodded. "Noted, baby girl."

"Good." Serenity grinned while grabbing my hand. "Now, let's go try whatever that cake thing she said it was."

Our fingers laced together as we exited my office, only to find Mateo sitting silently and hearing Valentina have a conversation with her daughter. But once they saw us, they went silent.

I looked down at the cake and nodded my head towards it. "You said that it was a tart or something?"

Valentina smiled.

"A Spanish almond cake."

"Right. So is it like..." I trailed off, glancing at it once more. "...good then?"

And they all let out quiet chuckles.

"What?" I said, looking at Essie, who was grinning.

"Not a question you ask, H," she answered, and I felt my cheeks flush. "But I am curious, so let's find out."

Serenity bent down to cut the cake into five slices. It was then that I noticed what I'd dropped earlier was gone. She must've cleared it. Everything was settled back to the way it was when they showed up; however now, the air wasn't suffocating with that painful, mind-destructing tension. 

Once she passed everything out, my girl and I took our seats back where we were and began to dig into the cake. I could sense Valentina's gaze on me, watching to see if her son liked something she made.

The thing was, I'd already liked the knitted cardigan — but I didn't tell her that.

Taking a bite from the dessert, I was hit by a prominent almond flavour, yet keeping the soft profile. A delicate pop of the seed crunched through, still keeping the strangely smooth texture. Sweet with a tangy punch of lemon and orange zest to give a contrast to my palette; not overbearing or heavy, just perfectly rich. White icing sugar coated the top, powdering my lips just as the clouds dusted the winter sky with snow. With a slight hint of cinnamon melted perfectly into cake, it completed the masterpiece of such a decadent dessert. 

It was fucking delicious and I just knew that it would be on my list of favourite foods.

And I wasn't sure if I liked that.

Of course, nothing could beat Essie's chicken noodle soup and Julian's blueberry muffins.

Those two hit the fucking top.

After meeting Serenity, all of the dishes and meals that I had at Michelin star restaurants, nothing could compare to what she made.

Maybe it was because they came from the woman I ultimately fancied or that it was made from love. I wasn't entirely sure because even the coffee she brought me from shops was even better than when I got them. There was just something about the things she touched that automatically turned to gold.

That woman had the Golden Touch.

I never failed to appreciate her beauty whenever she was around me, and my eyes flickered to her as she took bites from the dessert. Her mouth wrapped around the fork with eyes shutting to revel in the flavour, a smile popping on her lips.

The moment she caught my gaze, a blush flooded her cheeks, giving me a look to say "What?" and I just shook my head with that same smile.

Fuck, I was so in love with her.

My girl complimented Valentina many times on how much she was a fan of the cake and asked for the recipe, which she more than gladly gave her.

Of course, I only praised what she made, and I could tell that she appreciated it much more than she expected.

Whatever this new experiment was between us, it was going to take a long time for me to see if I would accept her in my life. I saw a slight struggle with the eye contact we made, but she was very content with what I gave her. Estela, even more so, but I managed to show a faint smile when our gazes matched.

I was thankful that there weren't anymore 'gifts' or exchanges between us and that it remained a casual post-Christmas evening. Nonetheless, Serenity occasionally squeezed my shoulders to make sure I was okay.

The conversations mainly included things about Valentina, Estela, and Essie. Mateo remained near-silent after Serenity's 'chat' with him, and in all honesty, I was grateful for that. My work and more personal life were never brought up nor mentioned.

With the massive anxiety, anger, and emotional strain I had throughout the day, it somehow came to an unexpected ending that I never would have pictured. It was an ending that was a possible beginning.

...

A/N:

So it's the start of something new...

I'm so tempted to continue with that tune, but I won't. Moving on now...

This was one very heavy Harry chapter. The chat between him and Valentina was intense and a lot was revealed. 

So, let's recap again:
-Easy to say that Eric is a tiny-dick prick 
-Stars
-Emerald
-Tulips
-Spanish
-Baby cardigan
-Cake
-And lots of smiles

And of course, let's not forget that our baby Harry told her about his flower garden (I wanna sob)

So what did y'all dig the chapter? What was your favourite part and all? Y'know me and my curious self.

Also, did you notice, I left no cliffhanger this time. But what will happen next?

And ooh, pretty please press on that little star on the chapter, I mean, it only takes a millisecond. They're nice gifts and make me (and Essie...and Harry) happy.

Kissy, stay golden, and always TPWK my beautiful tulips 🌷

S x