The camera flashes surrounding our car blinded us. I had one hand on your waist and the other gripping the denim jacket—my denim jacket—tight, doing everything I could to shield your face as we pushed our way toward the hotel with the help of our bodyguards.

Ever since we hit fame nearly four years ago, life has been a rollercoaster of emotions—but these last few months had been even more intense, though they came with the best news in the world.

It was in the bathroom of our shared apartment that we found out you were pregnant. We hadn’t planned it, had no idea how it even happened, but we couldn’t have been happier. I’d always dreamed of being a father, and ever since we started dating back in 2011, something told me we’d be together forever. This baby just felt like the sign that we were meant to stay that way.

Granted, it came at the worst possible time for the band. The tour started just days after you found out you were pregnant, and you were more sensitive than ever. The pregnancy symptoms—morning sickness, cravings—made everything more complicated, especially during rehearsals you had to miss or when you had to dash to the bathroom in the middle of a concert.

And I was always there for you, to take care of you and make you feel better.

We hurried through the lobby until we reached the hotel suite—a spacious place with high ceilings, a terrace, and rooms arranged so the six of us could sleep there. Unfortunately, we weren’t in separate hotel rooms, so while we had some privacy thanks to the individual bedrooms, we still shared common areas like the living room and kitchen.

Once inside, I led you to the sofa and sat down with you curled up against me—your head resting on my chest, knees drawn up—my arm wrapped around yours in a protective embrace. You kept complaining about how exhausted you were from the paparazzi and how dizzy you felt after so many hours on the bus. It was normal for you to be extra sensitive now—and if you were already emotional before, this was a whole new level. And even though it could get overwhelming for me at times, I did everything I could to make sure you and the baby were as comfortable as possible.

But once the guys came in, things quickly spiraled. They were all in bad moods after the way the paparazzi had acted, and on top of that, Liam and Zayn were already arguing, while Louis was throwing a plastic ball at Niall’s head, making him snap back constantly.

I felt your body tense under my hand on your shoulders the moment the chaos reached us. I turned my head to look at you, and there you were—eyes glassy, lower lip trembling, cheeks flushing as you tried not to cry. You gave me that look, the one that begged me to fix it, as if I were some kind of superhero. With a sigh, I tried.

“Hey, hey, guys!” I raised my voice, loud enough to get their attention, but not enough to scare you. They all looked at me, not really understanding why I’d snapped at them, until I nodded toward you, hiding deeper into me as you fought back tears. “I know we’re all stressed, but let’s keep it down. Stress isn’t good for the pregnancy, and you’re not helping.”

I sighed again, looking back at you, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. My fingers combed through your hair in a slow, soothing rhythm. “Better?” I murmured near your ear, sliding my other hand to your stomach to gently caress the small bump that had appeared just days ago. Every time I saw or felt it, I couldn’t help but smile. “Baby’s okay?”