Chapter 69 (Part 2)

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The best or the worst of your life?

Harry’s P.O.V.

It was three in the afternoon. The sun was shining and the heat was stifling. September 20. It was a few weeks for the winter and I was glad because I couldn’t stand the heat. I took out the keys from my back pocket, opened the door of the driver's seat and got in the car. I looked at my phone on the leather seat. I had left my phone in the car.

I pressed the button and the screen turned on. Thirty-six missed calls and ten text messages. I was in trouble. The calls were almost all from Emma. Some were from Emma's mom, my mom, Eleanor, Perrie and a couple of calls from Derek. I banged my head against the steering wheel.

I called mom. At least she will not scream at me... so much. After the second tone she answered.

“Where the hell are you? Why don’t you answer the phone?” She said angrily, but maintaining her tone low.

“I just got out of the studio... I didn’t answer because I left my phone in the car.”

“For God’s sake, Harry. You better come to the hospital immediately.”

“What? Why?”

“Emma began to feel discomfort and we called Dr. Sullivan. She told us to bring her to the hospital. They injected this hormone about ten minutes ago.”

“But Ethan would not be born for another two weeks,” I turn on the car and start driving.

“Yeah, I know. But the doctor said almost all babies aren’t born on the indicated time. They’re most often born early.”

“At which hospital are you?” I ask. I stop at a red light and the seconds seem eternal to me.

“Emma said you had talked about this hospital. Is that one that has a strange name in German. The one near your apartment,” she says. The light turns green and I go full throttle. I do not care if I get a ticket. I'm not in the mood for that shit.

I hear voices in the background.

“What’s happening?” I ask mom.

“Nothing. Hurry up.”

The call ends. I put the phone aside. I bite my lip as I drive quickly through the streets. My fingers move impatiently on the steering wheel. God, help me. A part of me wanted to run and hide like a little kid. But the other part wanted to be brave and affront my fears.

When I see the hospital I feel relieved and I know that tomorrow they will called my phone so I go to pay fines for speeding and pass several red lights. I parked the car, grabbed my phone and entered to the hospital. The nurse looked up when she noticed the glass doors had been opened. I approached the front desk and she looked at me. She was about forty, and you could tell she wasn’t in the mood, but I was neither.

“Emma Smith,” I said rushed.

“It is not time to visit yet,” she tells me with a frown.

“I’m... I’m her husband,” I said.

She looked me up and down with a frown. She rolled her eyes and began typing on the computer.

“Room 315, maternity ward on the second floor.”

“Thanks,” I gave her a fake smile before heading to the elevator.

I pressed the button several times. The doors opened. They were several doctors and nurses that left the elevator. I went in and pressed the button with the number 2. The doors closed. I hit my foot against the metal floor and the seconds were ​​eternal for me. The doors opened and I sighed with relief.

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