Code Blue

~ Chapter 39 ~

Chapter 39
Monday October 23rd
Harry's POV

Warning: Bonnie

"Why are we here?" Dr. Lopez asked with annoyance. The five intern doctors stood in front of me, which it pains me to even call them doctors half the time, in my office.

I didn't leave Stevie's side at all yesterday.

I sat with her the entire time, I only left to use the bathroom. I felt bad, but I took advantage of my nurses bringing us meals. I just felt completely awful for leaving her on Saturday, and then she was suffering, and I was nowhere to be found.

I should have been in there. Stevie woke up that morning with a fever, which is a typical chemotherapy side effect. It's not the first time she's had a fever, and unfortunately it won't be the last. However it went away in the afternoon when Leah was basically demanding I gave her a surgery. I had spoken to Stevie and she told me to go ahead with the surgery, which is ultimately the reason I agreed.

But it was such a stupid decision, and I'm not used to making those.

I should have been in there with Stevie.

I was well aware that her fever could have spiked again. I'm a doctor, I know any level of things that could have happened when I was gone, or when I leave her on a typical work day. I just never expected for anything to actually happen to my sunshine without me being there. I should have stayed stern, and told Leah no. I should have made the hard choice of disappointing her to stay committed to my daughter, but it was hard.

I love my job, I love helping kids grow and get better. It's my favorite part of what I do. I found it hard to not jump in when somebody needs me, because I know what I'm doing, and I'm good at it.

But I should have been with my daughter, and that's something that I can't change.

Maybe I could have done something, even though the logical part of me knows there wasn't much I could do. I just couldn't get it out of my head that this is all my fault. I should've been next to Stevie's bed the entire time, how I was supposed to be, but I left her and I was blaming myself for it.

When she woke up, it should have been me in the room next to her. Holding her hand. Snuggling with her. Playing with her hair. Coloring with her. Comforting her. I'm her father, and I wasn't there for her when she really needed me to be.

Mallory was.

"Don't ask me questions Dr. Lopez" I grimaced, holding up a hand to silence her.

Mallory shouldn't have been in there. She shouldn't have been watching TV with my child or coloring with her. It felt like a line that shouldn't have been crossed, and I hated it. Especially when it's Mallory. Stevie doesn't need to know any of the interns, but especially not the one that I was hooking up with behind my wife's back.

I knew that she didn't deliberately go in there. She didn't randomly get put in charge of peds and use the first chance she got to meet my daughter. I knew that she ran in and gave my daughter the help she needed, that she was the one who authorized the medication to be given. I was forever grateful and relieved that Stevie is going to be okay.

But Mallory made me angry in a way that I don't even think she has realized yet.

"Well then can you hurry up? I have patients" Dr. Lopez huffed, and I really wish I could fire her myself. Her attitude over everything was despicable, she is way too cocky for her own good, and she isn't even a good doctor to make up for her abundance of awful qualities.

I folded my hands on the mahogany of my desk in front of me, my wedding ring catching the light. I just recently put it back on again, because Bonnie had questioned me about it. I didn't need to deal with her on top of everything I was already dealing with, despite how much the ring felt suffocating on my finger at times. It took everything in me to not have my lawyer send her divorce papers the very second that I called to tell her Stevie had a seizure, and she responded by telling me she was contacted by the hospital. She admitted she didn't even bother to ask if our daughter was okay, just asked for me to handle it like always.