The Only Way Out [Book 2]

Chapter 40 - Doesn't Change A Thing

***Harry's POV

"Will the family of Beatrice Styles please come here?" the same nurse, now sounding irritated, says again and Lauren and I look at each other in disbelief.

We make our way across the crowded waiting room to the lady in purple scrubs and I feel a lump in my throat.

Don't panic, Harry. Bea is going to be fine. What if she's not? What am I going to do? You'll stay by your wife's side, that's what you'll bloody do, Harold.

I clear my throat just before we approach the nurse and she greets us with a half-smile.

"Are you the family of-" she pauses, checking her chart before making eye contact with me, "Beatrice Styles?"

"I'm her husband and this is her mother," I say, gesturing to Lauren and the nurse acknowledges us with a nod.

"Okay, the test went smoothly," she says and Lauren and I both sigh in relief. "She was able to hold a conversation before and after the test and her pupils weren't dilated, so she's resting in room seven while the technician prepares the results."

"Can I-, we see her?" I ask.

"Yes, just keep your voices low and keep the light level where it is. Loud noises and bright lights can give head injury patients headaches."

"We promise we will, just let me see my baby," Lauren begs and I comfort her shoulder.

"Okay, Doctor-" she draws out the word, looking at the chart once more, "Rollins will be in shortly to go over the results."

Shortly. Ha. Even she knows that's a lie.

"Thank you," Lauren says and we make our way down the hall.

We come to room seven and Lauren lets me walk into the dimly lit room first and my heart pounds against my chest.

I smile when I see my girl resting in the hospital bed, but it quickly fades when I notice that she's still wearing the neck brace.

Well, what were you expecting, Harry? It was a test, not a miracle machine.

I quietly huff a frustrated breath before walking over to my wife. Her eyes are closed and her body is still, with the exception of the rhythmic movement of her chest. The blanket is brought up to her shoulders, covering most of the blue hospital gown and her rather messy hair is gathered to the side.

My beautiful wife.

While Lauren makes herself comfortable in the chair on the opposite side of the bed, I stand next to Bea. Lauren and I make eye contact and it's our silent way of telling each other that our Beatrice will be okay.

I focus my attention on my wife, gently fitting my hand between hers and the bed and I lightly brush my thumb on her hand. I don't want to wake her, but the selfish part of me just wants to see her smile.

I need for her to tell me she's okay.

A few quiet minutes pass by and I hear the harsh rustle of the hospital sheets. My eyes shoot straight to Bea's closed ones and she takes in a deep breath.

"Harry?" Bea whimpers, scrunching her face in pain and I comfort her shoulder.

"Yes, Baby, I'm here," I say in a quiet tone, caressing her hand and she calms down. "How are you feeling?"

"Tired and my head's pounding," she mumbles and my nose flinches at her breath and I look over at Lauren.

"They didn't even fu-," I stop myself from cursing and I huff out a frustrated breath to calm myself. "They didn't do anything for her, knowing full-well that she had thrown up."