Reunion

Chapter 3

I've just read Harry's story and realized how far off he has gotten from the original story, that is, our daughter being unconscious in the hospital. He looked so saddened writing the thing; the boy has such a tender heart. It is always a wonder to me that I ended up with someone so amazing. Anyway, allow me to finish the story. After Niall informed us of this horrid truth, we rushed to the hospital. Harry's mind was far too occupied on our sweet, little girl that he overlooked checking in. I quickly introduced ourselves to the nurse who then directed us to her room. There she slept, eyes closed, but pain streaked across her face. The nurse reassured us that even though she looked uncomfortable, her brain was in no order or function to decipher pain. At that news, Harry lowered his eyebrows and sunk his head. I immediately went to his side to comfort him. I took him around the waist and whispered in his ear a comforting message and an 'I love you.' He is much more emotional than I, and I always loved that about him. Our little Darcy is like that, too. Every day after school she would come home and hug me around the legs and say excitedly, "I love you, Daddy!" And then she would do the same to Harry. And then as we would watch the Disney classics with her, she would point up at the screen and say very matter of factly, "I'm gonna be that princess one day." Harry would lean in and kiss her on the head, remarking that she was already a princess. And that's how our quiet lives in Manchester went.

But now that our sweet daughter was sick and semi comatose, things were changing. We attended our reunion concert, of course, and it was a great time. The turnout was extraordinary and the lads as crazy as ever. But after the show, we head back to the hospital. Down at the design studio where I worked part time, the coworkers organized a basket, complete with stuffed animals for her and coffee for us to last a month. The lads would stop in occasionally, but it hurt to see Niall's little girl here. Her sullen, fearful face was beat only by Harry's. Between sorrowful tears she would whisper "What have I done?" Over and over again. Niall did his best to comfort her and reassure her that it wasn't her fault in the slightest, but you know how it is with kids. Trauma hits them harder than anything. Then his small girl took out a pink rose and laid it on Darcy's fragile chest. It rose and fell steadily, and Niall's little girl took Darcy's hand in hers. The atmosphere was so precious at that moment; it felt as if a single breath would send the whole world into chaos. So we sat and hugged. Tears were shed and looks of encouragement were shared. Niall tapped his little girl on the shoulder and motioned that they needed to catch their flight. She took another glance at Darcy's delicate face and kiss her hand goodbye. I gave a silent thank you to Niall and his family, and they were off.

We had no idea how long our baby girl would be in here; the prognosis was shaky at best. We never left her alone, in case she had nightmares. I would stay by her bedside, cradling her small hand in mine and fixing her hair, whilst Harry did the normal routine of the day. When he returned, we switched off, and so it went for weeks. But on one miraculous day, Harry and I were both by her side when we saw her eyes slowly open. Both of our faces lit up and Harry reassured our baby girl that we were here for her. We called in the doctor, and he could hardly believe what he was witnessing. He said a recovery like this was unheard of in such a young patient. I look into Harry's eyes, hope and joy radiating from them. Our baby would get better, we would be a family again.