Perfectly Fake ~ Niall Horan Story

sixty seven

L I L L I A N N A

I nervously walk into the hospital reception area, exhaling with a smile to hide my nerves for my last pregnancy check-up before my little baby girl is born.

I really wish Niall was here with me.

"Excuse me?" I ask quietly, coughing slightly to get the attention of the receptionist who seems to be rather bored and uninterested.

"I have an appointment under the name Lillianna Horan," I smile but the receptionist just glares at me before quickly typing something on the computer and then turning back to me.

"You're early," the receptionist states bluntly and I feel my cheeks burn slightly with embarrassment.

"Well, yes I was a bit nervous and I thought it would be good to be early for a-"

"You can wait in the waiting room in the maternity wing," the receptionist interrupts, clearly finished with this conversation so I mumble a polite thank you and make my way through the hospital corridors imagining Niall's warm hand in mine.

The maternity wing is also conjoined with a children's hospital and so the hallways are filled with bright, calming colours, the sound of children crying and babies babbling.

I take a seat in the waiting room and see that there is only one other mother, her beautiful daughter who looks to be about 7 years old and a gorgeous child with dark hair who I think is around 4 years old waiting for their appointment.

I offer them a small smile as I sit down, my eyes fixated on the gorgeous children and I can't help but imagine what my baby will look like.

I hope she looks like Niall and has his beautiful blue eyes and cheeky smirk.

I can't wait to finally hold my baby in my arms and cherish her dearly, kissing her little forehead as Niall holds us both lovingly.

"First child?" The mother suddenly asks me, pulling me from my daydream.

She smiles at me however I can feel her judging eyes scanning me, her nose slightly turning up and her smile somewhat patronising.

"Yes, I'm very excited," I reply with a genuine smile, my nerves still present but gradually settling as I focus on the little children in front of me, their cheeks rosy and their eyes bright.

The little girl has long, blonde hair that cascades down her shoulders however I can tell that she feels stiff and overwhelmed in her ruffled and old fashioned dress that likens her to a china doll.

My own mother was a good mother who tried her very best but I can't help but strongly relate to the little girl in front of me who was most likely forced to wear this dated and uncomfortable dress and is expected to attend Sunday School and win the church bake sale.

"I'm Margaret," the mother states, holding out her gloved hand to me and I reciprocate the gesture and smile even though I can still sense Margaret eyeing me up.

"Lilli," I reply and immediately Margaret scoffs and begins to obnoxiously laugh, her extremely posh accent echoing throughout the waiting room.

"Isn't that a dog name?" Margaret laughs and my cheeks immediately burn again and I force an awkward smile even though inside I am ready to shut down this bitch.