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