His Secret Bodyguard

Part 48

** Another day later **

I woke up pretty early the next day, and saw my phone on the side-table.. I managed to reach it, and turned it on. I knew that the media had to have caught all this and made it some huge thing.

All I had to do was go on google news; it was the first thing there..

"Harry Styles and girlfriend overdose in Paris apartment, end up in hospital." Was one of the headlines. Way off the mark, for multiple reasons. No one overdosed, and I certainly wasn't his girlfriend.

I scrolled through some of the articles, reading them. There were pictures that had been taken outside the apartment. Five or six police cars, and two ambulances were parked outside of it. There were distant videos of them bringing Harry out on a stretcher, loading him into the ambulance, followed by me. A few seconds later, you could see Jeff walk out of the building while on the phone with someone. It didn't look good.. He still hadn't made a public announcement on Harry's condition, which had made matters worse, because no one knew if he was okay, or even what had really happened..

After a few minutes, I managed to slowly get off the bed, and went into the bathroom. Luckily they didn't have me connected to any wires or IVs or anything..

I quickly realized there was a shower in here, but wasn't sure if I was allowed to do that. So, I went back out after going through the routine of brushing my teeth and everything. They'd provided a small bag with the basic supplies. I was just glad they hadn't shaved my head at all, which I thought was odd...

I got back in the bed, making sure my gown was tied correctly.. The nurse suddenly opened the door, and looked at me. "What're you doing?" She asked. I gave her a confused look, a little surprised she spoke such good English. She walked over, picking something up. "You can't take this off." She stated, grabbing my hand and clipping the monitor thing back onto my finger. I glanced over at the machine as it started beeping again.

"Oh. Well, while you're here, I wanted to know if it was okay for me to shower." I said. "Yeah, just, try not to fall or anything. There's a stool in there if you feel like you need to sit down." She replied. I nodded. "Also, how did you guys operate on my brain or whatever, without cutting my head open?" I asked.

"Essentially, all they really needed to do, was stop the bleeding before your brain started swelling. I won't elaborate on how they do that exactly. It tends to make patients nauseous." She stated. I looked at her. "No, I want to know." I commented. She sighed, looking over at me. "Trust me, it's not something you want to hear." She said.

I cleared my throat. "A few months ago, I pulled a bullet out of my stomach, and stitched a portion of it with no anesthetic. Blood doesn't make me queasy." I stated. She was watching me. "Seriously?" She asked. "Yes. Now, explain. In detail." I replied. She sighed, pulling the chair out and sitting next to my bed. She then went on to explain the procedure and everything...

**

After the nurse left, I showered and whatnot, making sure to shave, and then wash my hair. It felt so much better to be clean. I ended up changing into a sweatshirt and a pair of shorts that someone had left for me. I saw no point in me wearing that gown..

It was still pretty early. Maybe 9:00AM.. I walked out of the room they had me in, and saw a woman sitting at a desk across the hall.

I walked over there, and asked her where Harry's room was. I'd forgotten we were still in France, so I'd spoken English at first. Which, she obviously didn't speak, unlike the other nurse. I corrected myself, and she checked the computer, telling me where his room was..

I went down the hall. His room was at the very end, probably to ensure his privacy. I hesitated a moment, before quietly opening the door. He was still sleeping, and I saw his mom asleep in the chair next to the bed. My presence woke her up, and I quietly apologized. My brain was still fuzzy, so I'd spoken to her in French..

"Sorry." I said quietly. A look of realization crossed her face. "You're Brynn." She commented, standing up, moving away from his bed, as to not wake him..

I wasn't sure how much she knew about.. well, everything. She held out her hand, and I hesitated a moment, due to my history of hating all contact. But, I forced myself to shake her hand. "You're the one who's been harassing my boy." She said. I gave her a small smile. "That would be me, yes." I admitted quietly. I glanced over at Harry.

"He's told me a lot about you." She stated. I looked back over at her. ".. How much?" I questioned, nervous about a stranger knowing anything about me. "As much as I could get out of him. He talks to me about a lot of things. I practically had to force him to tell me about you. He said you're a very private person." She explained to me, for some reason not bothering to speak quietly. I slowly nodded, looking back over at him.

I walked over to the side of his bed, stopping by his feet when I saw the scar on his chest.. It made me nauseous; the idea of me being the cause of all this.. I ran a hand through my hair, turning and looking back to where she was..

She was watching me. "He's taken quite an interest in you." She commented. I nodded. "But, he said you turned him down, pushed him away.. Drove him into this state of mind." She stated. She didn't like me. I could tell that much already. Who could blame her? She should hate me.

"But." She continued, and I glanced back over at her again. "Apparently you were also the one to pull him out of that state." She commented. I shook my head. "That was Jeff." I said. She smiled, shaking her head. "Hon, he brought him out here, because of the way Harry talks about you. He knew you could fix him." She replied.

I looked away, shaking my head. "No... I couldn't fix him. He did this. I.. I let him do this to himself. I should've known... I could've stopped it. I did this to him.. It's my fault.." I commented quietly, making myself dizzy. I took a few steps backwards, my back hitting the wall. "Brynn. Look at me." She stated. It took me a minute, but I did as she said.

"Nothing could have stopped this. You didn't do this to him, okay? He did it to himself, drinking like that. He knew better." She explained. I shook my head. "He wouldn't have been drinking in the first place if I hadn't hurt him." I said. "Don't blame yourself for this. You couldn't control how he would react." She commented. I shook my head, glancing over at him. It hurt to see him like that. That scar down the center of his chest; a forever-symbol of the pain I caused..

Scars bother me. Sure, I leave emotional scars on people all the time. But this was different.

"I have to go." I said, my mind running through many different things, stressing me out, giving me a headache. "No, you don't. You should stay." She commented. I shook my head again.

"Je ne peux pas être ici." I murmured, my brain randomly switching over to French to say "I can't be here.." I pushed myself off the wall, and walked out of the room, glancing back at him one more time.

It was too painful....