In the weeks leading up to Zayn's funeral, Liam had been over to my house almost every night. It had started a couple days after the death and I had woken up in the middle of the night from a nightmare, sobbing. Not knowing what else to do, I called Liam and he was over in less than five minutes. He sat with me until I had fallen back to sleep, rubbing my back gently.
This had continued pretty much every day, and I had no idea how I would ever make it up to him, even though he assured me that I didn't need to. He was being way sweeter than he should be and although there was nothing between us except the strong bond of two people who had gone through the loss of a loved one together, I still felt bad.
The night before the funeral, I had had one of the worst nightmares to date. I woke up screaming Zayn's name and sobbing loudly and when I tried calling Liam, there was no answer. I tried to fall back asleep, but every time I closed my eyes, terrible images flashed through my mind. Because of this, I got almost no sleep that night.
I stood in front of the mirror that morning, staring at my reflection. Smoothing my hands over my front, I let them rest on the bump that was slowly becoming more prominent. I didn't quite know how to feel about it yet; on one hand I was so excited, but on the other hand, it reminded me of Zayn which was terrible.
Sighing, I turned away, finishing getting ready quickly. There was a knock on the door and I walked over and opened it, revealing Liam standing there with an extremely sorry look on his face. "I am so sorry for not answering the phone last night."
"It's fine, I got through it, it was fine," I lied, giving him a tiny smile. "Ready to go?"
"Ready as I'll ever be," he replied and I shut the door behind us, looking it before going and getting into his car.
Although I hadn't seen the other three boys since that day in the hospital, they gathered around me, putting us in almost the exact same positions as we had been in that hallway. There were no words between us, but plenty of tears as the day went on.
I had to admit, I barely remembered any of the funeral, not even the part when I had had to go up and speak in front of everyone. Afterwards, I said goodbye to Zayn's family, giving them all big hugs, and said goodbye to all the boys, wanting nothing more than to be alone right now.
Over the coming weeks, the nightmares became fewer and farther between. I still called Liam almost every night, even just to talk, but he barely ever had to come over anymore.
My stomach was still growing, and the terrible feeling surrounding it was slowly fading and now I was just plain excited. I had no idea how I was going to raise this baby on my own, although Liam had offered more than once to help me out however I needed.
Before I knew it, I was the one in the hospital, wishing with everything I had that Zayn was here to go through this with me. The actual birth of my baby was the one thing that Liam could not help me with and so I was missing Zayn more than ever.
It was even worse, a few hours later, when I was holding a beautiful baby girl. She looked so much like Zayn it hurt, so much so that I had tears in my eyes as I looked at her.
"Hey there," my head snapped up to see Liam standing in the doorway of my room. I smiled to let him know he could come in and he did, sitting next to the bed. "How are you guys doing?"
"Good, we're both doing really well," I replied, subtly wiping the tears off my face.
"The rest of the boys should be here any minute; they're all excited to see her," Liam said with a slight smile, just as the boys in question walked in.
They all gathered around, smiles on their faces for the first time since Zayn had died. "What's her name?" Louis finally asked.
"Mykenzee. Mykenzee Grace," I replied, smiling up at them. "You guys want to hold her?"
They all nodded frantically and I laughed lightly, handing her off to Louis who was on my left. I loved watching them as they interacted with my newborn daughter, cooing in her face and tickling her feet.
It was all fun and light, a complete contrast of the last time we were in a hospital room together, until Harry said offhandedly, "Wow…she's definitely got Zayn's eyes."
Four pairs of eyes turned towards the curly haired boy who had made what would have previously been a harmless comment, but now was simply heartbreaking. The sudden silence caused Harry to look up and his face paled as he realized what he had said. "Shit Chloe, I didn't mean…I'm so sorry…" he stammered.
I blinked a few times, trying to compose myself before answering. "It's fine Harry, don't worry about it. She really does have his eyes. And hair. In fact, she looks more like him than me," I said, trying to make light of the situation.
Luckily, it smoothed over and we went back to fawning over Mykenzee. The boys all stayed for a couple hours, all telling me to call them up whenever if I needed anything or just needed someone to hang out with as they left.