Fighter |No Longer writing|

Part 36

Two days later.

Harry's POV

      They were finally releasing me from the hospital. I had broken my arm pretty bad, and I now have a cast on it. I already hated it. I grabbed my bag and went to go find Katherine’s room. I counted down the numbers until I finally reached her door. I hated that  everyone told me it would be best if i stayed away from her for a while. i needed to see her, it killed me not knowing how she was. I gulped down my fears and turned the door knob. I slowly walked closer to her bed. The tubes, and the wires connected to her lifeless body made my tears fall. I plopped down in the chair provided and covered my face with my hands.

 “Oh my god,” I lifted my head and saw Clive taking in the sight of his daughter. His hand covered his mouth, his feet didn’t move. His wife rushed to his side, but stopped seeing Katherine. Her mouth opened but nothing came out.

“Where were you?” I managed to spit out, angered more than anything.

“We..We were on vacation,” Clive answered walking closer to the bed. He slowly reached for her hand. His chin curled in as he carefully lifted it off the bed. He inhaled a shaky breath before placing her hand back down. His hands raked over his face as he quickly left the room. I looked at his wife, emotionless. I could see the pain in her eyes as she left to go find Clive.

    Why the hell did they go on a vacation and not take Katherine? The question infuriated me, I clenched my jaw. I looked at Katherine and saw her pale face.  I hated seeing her this way, this was better than never seeing her again.

   I took her fragile hand in mine and intertwined our fingers. I sat there, just staring at her. My thoughts repeated themselves, until they were interrupted. A nurse walked in with a diner tray, she gave me a sympathetic smile as she set it down in front of me.

“What about her?” I asked shocked she didn’t do anything for Katherine.

“That’s what those are for,” she pointed to the tubes lodged down her throat. I looked at the ground, knowing if I stared any longer I would’ve started crying again. I lifted the cover, a brown bag sat in the middle of the plastic tray. I unrevealed it, a sandwich wrapped in plastic sat on top. An apple juice and carrot sticks were under it. Thank god for her, she knew how bad the food was here. I couldn’t bring myself to eat. Even though my stomach sounded like a lion, I couldn’t eat next to her. I still wasn’t used to the site. I gently let go of her hand and grabbed the brown bag. I leaned down and lightly kissed her forehead.

       I huffed as I sat down in the waiting area. I looked out the window that I sat next to. Rain drops trailed down the glass, the sun trying to peek out from behind the miserable clouds. I took the first bite of the sandwich, as I chewed I saw Clive walking up to her door. He paused, looking in. If he doesn’t go in I swear the nurses will have to call security to keep me off him. I don’t care if he works for me, nothing would stop me from beating his ass.

        I relaxed my fist as he walked in to the room. I knew everyone dealt with grief in their own ways, but he left her alone and now he is barely making an attempt. Amy looked relieved when she saw me. She looked in to the room before she walked over and sat next to me.

“Thank you,” she said quietly. I looked over to her, but she stared straight ahead. “They told us that you were the one that found her. I am so sorry,” she started to cry.

“How did you find out?”

“The hospital called Clive,” she said trying to clean herself up.

“Where were you two?”

“We went to the Bahamas for our anniversary,”

“Oh,” I added quietly putting the other half of the sandwich in the bag.

“What happened to you?” she asked pointing to my arm.

“I fell,”

“Is that how you got in?” she knew exactly what happened. I nodded and stared at her door.

“Clive hasn’t spoken to me since we got the phone call,” she trailed off.

“He has feeling,” I said under my breath.

“She’s all he has left,” Amy threw her head in to her hands and leaned forward. I placed my hand on her back trying to comfort her. I ignored the stares and tried to keep Amy quite. Once she calmed down I went to go get a coffee. I rarely drank coffee, I mostly drink tea but I knew it was going to be a long night.

   The sight of Clive balling his eyes out sitting next to his daughter startled me. I froze in my tracks and couldn’t help but stare .The man I’ve seen in a suit in tie, always held his head high was now slumped in to a chair, crying buckets. He cleared his throat when he saw me.

“Come in,” he croaked. I stopped on the other side of her bed, staring down at her face.  “Why did you. What made you come to see her?” Clive asked.

“She called me,” I said taking a sip of the bitter liquid.

“Thank you,”

“Don’t thank me,” I shot back. It sounded more harsh than intended.

“She wouldn’t have another chance if it wasn’t for you,” Clive stood up. Silence fell upon us.

“I thought she was getting better,” I trailed off feeling a lump creeping up my throat.

“She never told me she was this bad,” Clive cried in to his hands. I looked at him in confusion.

“What about therapy?”

“I’ll get her that as soon as she wakes,” Clive said walking past me.

“Isn’t she already,” I trailed off and looked back to her. She lied to me. She never told her dad, she never went to therapy. Maybe she didn’t want to get better; I forced myself to push that thought away. I crashed in to the chair when Clive left the room.

   The security I once felt was now gone. The wall I forced myself to build, brick by brick is now demolished. I was just starting to get used to not being a few hours away from her. And just when I thought she was getting better, she was actually getting worse.