I'm going to lose my mind.

Yes, the doctor said I need to be in bed most of the day. And okay, maybe it's a good idea to listen to him since my life is in danger but if I have to stay in this bed another minute I'm going to smother myself with a pillow. Christmas is tomorrow and I haven't even been able to enjoy it. Scratch going to California to see my father and my brother. Forget Christmas shopping or going to Time's Square to see the giant Christmas tree. I can't go with Harry and Sophie to skate at Rockefeller Centre or walk through the pretty snow in central park. Christmas is one of my favourite things in New York and I can't even do anything.

And the worst part is Harry's not letting me work from home. He says I need as little stress as possible and apparently my job counts as too stressful. What does that even mean. I don't like that the doctor made him in charge because Harry is following the rules way too intensely. Harry has still been working and Sophie has been going with him for the last week since she gets the same break as schools do for the holidays. Des officially moved into our other apartment, Harry's apartment, for the time being while we figure out how to handle his situation. We've got a lot of other things going on and he's been the last thing on my mind and Harry's.

My mother is in town for Christmas, but that's the only other family we're going to be seeing. We didn't want to tell anyone else about my condition because it would mean a whole lot of worrying for the people we love. Harry wanted to at least tell his mother but I just couldn't do it. She'd be devastated and she'd probably want to come here to help out and I love Anne, but I want to just be with my family right now.

"I brought you a burger," Madison sings, walking into my bedroom. She has a key to the apartment now, as does my mother so that they can check in on me when Harry isn't able to. But he still manages to come see me at least three times a day.

"You're the best." I tug her to lay beside me and take the paper-wrapped beef out of her hands. "How's the store?"

"It's busy. I have to get back, Harry just asked me to bring you lunch."

"That was rude of him, but this burger is unbelievable."

"I brought you something else." She reaches into her bag and dumps a bunch of magazines on my bed. "I thought this would be a fun way for you to kill some time."

Bride magazines. My excitement lasts a split second before it comes crashing down into anxious anticipation and sadness. Madison doesn't realize how serious my condition is because I don't want her to worry about me, but what are the odds that I'll even make it to my wedding?

"You hate them."

"What?"

"You hate them. You look like you're about to cry!" she exclaims.

"No! No, Madison, they're great." I take them from her and pat her leg. "They're great, really. I'm just..it's sad to think about how I won't fit into these designer gowns after I have the baby."

"Oh, stop. You'll be beautiful."

"Are you staying?"

"I wish I could, but I really need to get back to the store. These last-minute shoppers are crazy." She gives me an exasperated look while I laugh quietly.

When the front door closes my facade fades and there are tears in my eyes. There's no single way to deal with any of this. The worst part is I don't feel like I can talk to Harry about how terrified I am because I don't want him to be even more worried. The only thing keeping him sane is that I keep assuring him that I'm going to be okay. But I have no idea if I'm going to be okay.

There is only one person I can think of that will let me talk about how scared I am. We weren't going to tell anyone, but I also know that this person won't tell anyone if I ask her not to. So I have to call her. Before I lose my mind thinking in circles about everything that could go wrong.

"Hello?"

"Kylie?" I whimper.

"Sav, hey! I was just-" A sob breaks from my mouth and she stays quiet for a moment before she turns frantic. "Sav? What's wrong, what happened?"

"I need t-to tell you s-something."

"Okay..."

"You can't tell anyone, Ky. Not even Mason. And Harry can't know that I said anything."

"Sav, what's going on?"

So I tell her. I tell her about the placenta thing and what it means for me and the baby. I tell her how terrified I am because there's a good chance I won't make it. I tell her how much I have to keep it together so Harry doesn't lose it and how hard I'm fighting to keep my fears inside. I could die. There is a very good possibility that I could die in six weeks.

"I really think you need to talk to Harry about this. He needs to know how scared you are."

"Ky, you haven't seen him. The only reassurance he has is the fact that I keep saying I'm going to be okay. But I don't know if...what if I'm not?"

"You can't think like that," she says quietly.

"Please, Ky. No one is letting me and I need to let it out because if I don't...all I do is sit in this bed thinking about how I'm going to miss my whole life."

"If anyone is going to understand how scared you are it's Harry. He's probably even more afraid of losing you than you are of dying and you're both putting on brave faces to make the other feel better. It's not helping. If...if things do go wrong, don't you want to know you've been honest with him?"

"I don't want him to be scared of losing me. I want him to be excited about having a baby because that's more important," I tell her. I wipe under my eyes and hear the front door open and close. "He's home."

"Call me whenever you need me,okay? I mean it, Sav. Whenever you need to talk."

"Merry Christmas, Kylie." Harry and Sophie enter the room and I hang up the phone, wiping under my eyes again. "Hey, you."

"You okay?" Harry's eyebrows pull together as he takes in what must be my horrible appearance. I force a smile and nod my head as Sophie climbs onto the bed next to me, still bundled up with a hat and scarf and mittens.

"Daddy move," she says as I pull off her mittens.

"Move...out?" I ask, looking up at him. He sits on the edge beside me and laughs a little.

"No, not today." He winks as I roll my eyes. "No, I had an idea."

"What's that."

"We should move the tree in here."

"What?" Harry smiles and leans his hand on the other side of my legs. "You want to put the tree in our bedroom?"

"It doesn't feel like Christmas in here," he explains. I tug Sophie's coat off and she lays down next to me. "If you're going to be in this room tomorrow then I want it to feel like Christmas."

"Honey, that's really sweet but-"

"And another thing." He moves closer and twirls one of the random hairs sticking straight out of my head around his finger. "We're all on bed rest tomorrow."

"What does that mean?"

"Stay in here wif you," Sophie says, peering up at me with her big green eyes.

"All day?"

"It's Christmas," Harry says. His palm rests against my cheek, thumb swiping slowly across my cheekbone. "We're all going to be in here with you."

"You know my mother is here tomorrow, right?"

"Yeah," he laughs. "We'll pull the couch in and watch Christmas movies and eat cookies. What do you say?"

I say I have the sweetest fiance in the entire world. My throat is tight and I don't feel like crying again so I just nod in agreement. Sophie suddenly scrambles off the bed to get something and Harry just stares at me. He does that now and I don't like it.

"Harry, we need to talk about something."

"Sounds serious."

"Come here." I pat the space next to me that Sophie is no longer occupying and as he's crawling onto the bed he sees the magazines Madison brought me.

"What's all this?"

"Madison brought them. That's actually what I wanted to talk to you about," I explain. He lays on his side next to me, propped up on his elbow so our faces our level. My fingers absentmindedly fiddle with his hair as I continue. "I want to get married."

"I thought that was implied."

"Harry, I'm serious."

"I know," he laughs. "I figured as much when you agreed to wear that ring."

"I mean now," I tell him quietly. His smile fades and his stare is suddenly intense. "Before the baby comes."

"No."

"Harry, can we at least talk about it?"

"No." He shakes his head and my hand drops onto the mattress. "We're not getting married until we can do it properly."

"But what...what if I..."

"Stop." He sits up and moves to the edge of the bed. "That's not a good reason."

"I want to be your wife." Tears cloud my eyes and I quickly blink them away as I pull myself into a sitting position. "Why is that-"

"I said no," he says again, standing up. I can see his eyes are watery as well as he shakes his head again. "We're not doing anything just in case, Savannah. We're going to get married the way we would have if this had never happened."

"Harry," I call as he walks out. "That's not fair, I can't come after you!"

I fall back with a huff and fold my arms; it's easier to be angry than sad at this point. I understand where Harry's coming from, I really do, but he has to be realistic about this. I would love to have the fairytale ending where I'm fine and the baby is fine and we live happily ever after. But this is real life.

Maybe it's silly for me to want to do this, but so what? We're going to be married either way, so why does it matter when? Both of us are afraid and I know Harry wants to act like everything is fine, but everything isn't fine. It only makes sense to be prepared for whatever happens. If Harry refuses to talk about it then there's no way for us to do that. I'd like to think that I'll get my dream wedding where I wear a beautiful gown and have all my family and friends there and I can actually stand up without Harry looking at me like I'll break into a million tiny pieces. The most important thing, though, is that I get to call Harry my husband. Even if it's only for a few days.

Instead of focusing on how I may never actually get married I decide to look through the magazines Madison brought me. Harry can't avoid me forever so we'll talk about this eventually. Even if it's only on paper and no one is there to see it that would be fine with me. I just want to be able to say that he's my husband.

I hear shuffling down the hall and then the end of the Christmas tree appears. Harry shoves it through the door of the bedroom and carries it to the empty corner by the window. Sophie comes trailing behind with a few ornaments in her hands and attempts to help Harry fix everything that got messed up while he moved it. My eyes remain on the back of his head while he ignores me and I know he knows I want to talk about this more.

"Harry."

"Let's get the presents, Soph." He swings her up in his arms and walks out. We told Sophie that Santa came to our house early because of everything that's happening, which she doesn't know about, but she believed Harry anyway.

"I may not be able to get up, but I will stab you in your sleep!" I yell as they leave. I hear his damn chuckle down the hall and fold my arms over my stomach again. This is stupid.

Harry continues to ignore me while they come in and out of the room with the presents. Most of them are for Sophie; we don't make Christmas a big thing for the two of us since we already have so much. Just a few small things. And eventually Sophie decides to come sit with me again like she usually does before Harry makes dinner.

"Harry-"

"Not while she's here," he mumbles, fixing a few of the lights on the tree.

"I was just going to say that I'm sorry that I upset you." He sighs and rubs his hand over his face. "It's just, I want to feel like I can talk to you about this. And right now it doesn't seem like I can."

"You're talking like...like you're going somewhere," he says carefully. "That's not something I want to talk about."

"Don't you think we should be prepared for that?" I ask quietly. His shoulders slump and he leans one hand on the dresser. "Harry-"

"Soph, I asked you to clean your room," he says. He turns and tugs her to the edge by her leg while she giggles.

"Okay, Daddy." She hurries out and Harry shuts the door a little, then coming to the edge of the bed. He sits next to me and takes my hand in his, folding both around it.

"I want you to feel like you can talk to me, but I don't want to talk about you not being here." He doesn't meet my eyes at all, just stares at our hands. "In my head it makes sense to be ready for whatever happens, but whenever I try to think about how I could make this work without you...I feel like my heart is being shattered into a million tiny pieces."

"Harry." I put my other hand over his and he closes his eyes, a tear rolling down his cheek. "Baby, look at me."

"I can't do this without you," he whispers. "You don't understand how much I need you to be okay."

"And I probably will be, but there's still a chance that...when I do end up having the baby I don't want to be worried because we never talked about it."

"I can't-"

"I want you to go back to London." He finally looks up at me and I take a deep breath against the tightness in my throat. "If something happens to me, I think you should go back home to be with your mother and with Gemma. I don't want you to be alone here."

He moves to sit with me, leaning against the headboard and wrapping his arms around me, my head against his chest. Harry's name is already on all our accounts and everything I owned when we weren't together, so it's all his anyway. This is the only thing that I'm worried about. Raising a three year old and a newborn alone and dealing with me dying...he needs to be with his family.

"Okay," he says finally. He kisses the top of my head. "If that's what you want."

"Really?" I look up at him and reach up to wipe the tears from his cheeks.

"I love you. I think you know by now that means I'll do just about anything."

Notes

why did i do this? like im literally making myself depressed over here.

i would love to know if you guys want a boy or a girl for the one on the way. i think i know what i want to do, but itd be nice to have some other opinions :)