Ballerina

Regret

"H-Harry..?"

I open my eyes slowly, squinting as bright lights above beam down at me.

Memories of the argument come flooding back into my mind, what have I done?

A quiet and rhythmic beep can be heard to my left; a single tear slides down my shiny cheek.

I pull myself up slightly, resting on my elbows and lifting the thin white sheet that lays on top of me to check myself.

I sigh in relief as I take in the familiar bulge of baby, underneath what seems to be a blue and green hospital gown.

Next, I move and then lean back against the crisp, clean hospital pillow that I find under my head. I take hold of the cool bars that prevent falling on the side of the bed I have been lying on for what seems like an age of time.

Slowly, I move my head to the left, acknowledging the machine that has been beeping at my side - it shows two patterns of lines that promise both our hearts are steadily beating.  

If this wasn't proof enough that I hadn't damaged my kin, I feel a soft kick in my abdomen , which I grab at in relief, with more tears showing themselves and minimally wetting my brunette-blonde locks that hang limply, in a slight wave, just below my breasts.

What was I thinking?

This child isn't a curse. It is a miracle. A gift from God.

The tears continue to fall down my face and onto my nightgown and hair. I whimper whilst my arms clutch my sides, wrapped around my stomach.

"I'm so sorry..."

I whisper to my pregnant belly, silently praying that my baby will be healthy and happy when it enters this world.

The child may not have been intended, but it was created in passion. It is the product of the amzing love I share with my husband. It is a part of both of us. How could I hate anything that came from Harry?

More importantly, how could I hate anything that God had created, and blessed me with the oppurtunity of raising and loving?

I have been a fool.

The door creaks quietly and I sit up with a start, longing to see the man I hold so close.

Alas, a young, short nurse stands in the door, her alarmingly pink hair swept up under her cap, her hands resting on a push along tray that has several food items upon it.   

"Good afternoon"

The nurse greets me with a smile and continues to push the trolley through the door.

"I'm Nurse Blanc; I've got some lunch for you, and I've been asked to inform you of what's happening in regard to you and your little one."

She smiles again and begins to set down the food on a tray she pulls out from the side of the bed, which fits neatly across my thighs and knees.

"How long have I been here...?"

I hastily look around the room again. A clock, a bookcase, an armchair. No signs of any visitors or of my personal belongings.

"6 hours."

I gasp at how long but short this time seems to me.

"We recieved a call at around 2:30 pm this afternoon - we were told that the lift attendent in your appartment complex was worried about you after he saw your husband leave the building, knowing that you are pregnant, so he knocked a few times and then alerted the manager after there was no reply."

I blink a few times as I take in this information. Harry wasn't the one that got me help? 

I study the clock. It reads 8:30 pm.

"We found you unconcious."

The nurse continues.

"We have tried to contact your husband with no luck, his phone seems to be turned off."

I close my eyes and take a deep breath.

"Now, I want you to stay clam, okay? I know this is difficult, but we need you to stay calm, for you and the baby's sake. Once you have eaten, there is a police officer down the corridor, waiting to ask you some questions."

My mouth hangs open in shock.

"What? What do you mean? Why is there a police officer?!"

The nurse shushes me and pats my arm gently.

"Don't worry Ms Styles, you're not in any trouble, we just want you to tell the truth so that we can help you." 

"It's Mrs Styles." I reply bluntly. 

"Sorry, Mrs Styles."

The nurse corrects herself and steps back, giving me some room to breath properly.

"Why would I need a police officer, there's nothing to tell."

"I'll give you a few minutes alone to eat and compose yourself, Mrs Styles. The police officer will be in shortly, you can address your concerns to her."

She is obviously upset by my blunt tone, but not as upset as I...

The nurse quickly turns on her heel and wheels the now empty trolley back through the white, metal door, leaving me in solitude.

I want Harry...