Secrets Better Left Untold (A Harry Styles Fanfiction)

"She's my daughter."

Harry's words play over and over in my head at least fifty times. Is he joking? He has to be joking, right?

I hope he is because the only reaction that I seem to be able to generate is laughter. Harry sits up quickly, looking over at me as I bringing my hand up to my lips, trying to stifle the inappropriate giggles.

His face is hard and very clearly telling me that this is not a joke, meaning that my reaction is indeed inappropriate. He trusted me enough to tell me this, and now I'm laughing at him.

I guess that's because this explanation is just so ridiculously insane that I'm almost choosing not to believe it. There's no way that the little girl in that picture is his daughter...yet his face says otherwise.

"I'm glad you find that amusing." He snaps without a single hint of teasing in his voice, causing my laughter to cease immediately.

"I...I'm sorry, Harry." I mumble quickly. "I...I had no idea."

He lets out a small sarcastic laugh through his nose, shaking his head and letting his elbows fall forward to rest on his knees. "How could you? I never told you." He says, almost sounding like he's mad at himself.

At first I thought he was mad at me for snooping and then laughing about it, but this is something else.

"Why didn't you?" I ask gently, not wanting to push him but wanting to know more.

This is kind of a big deal, and to only find out about it now...it kind of hurts a little bit. A thousand thoughts start rushing through my head.

Who was the mother? Was Harry married before? Where is the little girl now?

"It's not exactly light conversation, Bella." He groans, running his hand through his hair and standing to his feet.

"When has anything that we've ever talked about been light conversation?" I shoot back, thinking about all of the super heavy conversations that Harry and I have had since we met.

He walks over to the edge of the room before turning and walking back. Great...he's pacing.

"I didn't tell you, Bella, because I was afraid of what would happen if I did." He explains as he continues to pace.

"Well, look at what's happening now, Harry. Nothing." I say, shrugging my shoulders. I don't want him to think that I'm completely okay with this, but I do want him to know that I'm not just going to run off after finding the newest piece of the puzzle that is Harry Styles. "I'm just sitting here waiting for you to give me some type of explanation."

"What explanation is there to give?" He asks, stopping his pacing right in front of me and looking down into my eyes. "Grace is my daughter. That's that."

"That's that?" I scoff in disbelief, standing with Harry so that he loses his height advantage. "You're not going to tell me anything about her? About where she came from? Are you married, Harry?"

Before I can stop myself, all of the questions I had start tumbling out. All hope of handling this in a civilized manner is gone. It's all out on the table now.

"God, no. I'm not married." He says, shaking his head in disgust at that thought. "And I never was."

I can tell that he's seconds away from giving in and telling me by the way his body relaxes in defeat. He takes a deep breath as I cross my arms over my chest, waiting for the rest of the story.

"I was eighteen and stupid. She was twenty-five and reckless. I made a mistake, and I regret it, but I can't take it back." He explains as quickly as he can. I can see the painful memories eating away at him.