Orphan

Chapter 70

The moments between then and now hadn't been planned at all, at least not to Harry. He had had every intention of yelling, screaming and ranting about the stupidity of it all, but he went soft. He went bloody soft, how could he? He swipes his thumb across his bottom lip while skimming through the magazines outside of the hospital room, the white walls with dull blue trimming and uncomfortable padded blue seats and an oak brown coffee table to fill the bright, cold space. A few people were scattered around the floor, mainly the receptionist, a few nurses walking back and forth, and a red headed woman enquiring about something at the desk. The magazines were all health, beauty, fitness and sport. The latest in waiting room material. The faint sound of a phone buzzing had danced through the air for the fifth time that evening, Harry had no strength and lacked the attention span to answer, for now what he was focused on was Monique, and the conversation they had had just a few hours earlier, and these magazines. Oh, these tiresome, bland excuses for a narcissist's diary...but they were time consuming, that was what he needed.

The conversation had really gotten to Harry, though he fails to admit, he couldn't tell if he was feeling relief, anger, guilt or guilty to be relieved, but he was feeling something of the sort. "Is everything okay? Are you sure you wouldn't prefer to go home and come back tomorrow mor-"
"I'm quite alright, thanks, doctor." Harry glanced up briefly, a tint of hostility in his tone and a small nod was all he could manage to do. This had been the second time that this doctor had checked up on him, what was this, a nursery? He could look after himself after all, even if his girlfriend didn't think so. Girlfriend? Harry scrunched up his nose in disgust at his own internal thoughts, technically she was his wife, but that meant nothing to him, at least nothing of substance. Girlfriend seemed the more appropriate term. No, no, no. Partner...No...Lover? He was unsure of what he was comfortable with. What did it matter anyway what he called her? There's a child growing inside of her, his child. Through some close calls regarding recent events, he might not have even had a child to think of right now. He was burdened by the complicity of his thoughts, whether or not he felt okay with having a child or possibly losing a child. He wanted neither. He did not want a child complicating things and running amuck in his home, when he had work to do – complicated work. However, that didn't mean he wanted to get rid of his own flesh and blood. "Snap out of it, Harry. This isn't you. Man up." He muttered under his breath, letting go of a sigh which seemed to carry all the angst he was harbouring for the past 15 minutes or so. The phone began to buzz once more, Harry rolled his eyes at the device and lifted it to his ear after accepting the call. "Yes, what's the problem?"
"Fucks sakes, finally. Why didn't you answer, I wanted to know if everything was okay?" Liam's tone was sharp and to the point, clearly unamused by having to wait on Harry's answer. "Yeah."
"Yeah? What the fuck is 'yeah', Harry. I'm going to need far more than yeah, yeah what?" there was some shuffling on the other side of the line, "Yeah, everything is fine okay. Just fine. I'll be home whenever I'm home, I've got things to sort out here." Harry's voice seemed to be fading with each passing word, as if running out of strength to continue, Liam picked up on the sudden change in his brother-like companion. "Is it the baby?" there was a brief silence on the other end of the line, following by slight breathing sounds before Harry snapped out of whatever daze he had been in. "It- what? No. No, why would it be that?"
"You sound defeated. Is it okay? Is she okay?"

"Everyone is fine, Liam. Stop pestering me."
"Harry you-"
"I said stop!" the line went silent, Harry ran his hand over his face and let out a sigh of frustration, "Fine then... Won't bother you again. Some things came through for you. You might want to be home soon, I don't think they can wait. It's code Red." Harry's eyes shot wide, any fatigue he had, was now lost in his eyes. His words caught in his throat which he struggled to swallow down, his ears now tentatively listening. "What do you mean? What is it?"
"You can figure it out when you get here. Since everything is fine, you should have no problem being here to do it yourself. Good night." Liam ended the brief call and the quiet lull of the phone was all that was now ringing in Harry's ear, before he set the phone into his pocket, muttering a quiet, 'shit' under his breath. "Everything alright?" the tall, red head had stepped into the waiting room with two coffees in her hand, at least he assumed they were coffees. "Do you want the magazine, or..." Harry mumbled closing and swaying the magazine in his hand questioningly back and forth while his finger served as a bookmark to the page he was on, his eyebrow cocked up at he stared up at the woman. She seemed friendly, sweet. Not naïve, though. "No," she chuckled, a soft but welcoming sound. "Just seemed like you could use some company, and a coffee."
"What makes you think I need a coffee?" it seemed this question he posed served as an invite to a conversation as she sat down beside him, holding out the coffee in her hand before placing hers down on the table. "You're at a hospital... in the waiting room. And ya look like hell." She answered matter-of-factly before swiping away one of his stray hairs which must have been stood on end, to his own surprise, she was quite forward. "Trust me, you need a coffee." She finished before putting the coffee in his hand, its warmth really making him realise just how damn cold it was in here.