"Name something that you've done with a boy." Harry demanded with an evident smirk on his face, sending chills down my spine.
For the pastors son, he's nothing like I expected.
"N-nothing. It's a sin." I argued, frowning my eyebrows and fiddling wi...
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Chapter Fifty ____________
Geema suggested that it'd be best if I returned home after noticing how fatigued I was throughout the night, but I refused to the leave the hospital and miss out on the opportunity to see Harry's olive green eyes open again... if they decided to.
My eyelids struggled to keep away from hovering over my irises and I didn't have an appetite anymore. I felt like right now wasn't the proper time to worry about myself, so I threw all my personal issues to the side.
I knew if I went back home, I wouldn't be able to sleep and I'd just be worried for hours until the next day came. Not to mention the fact that I was already fighting the urge to dive into an anxiety attack in front of everyone. Therefore, leaving me all alone in my house wasn't a clear minded decision to make.
After standing my ground with her, she went off to the lunch area to buy something from the vending machine whilst I sat on the chair in the hall with my knees to my chest and contemplating on whether I should go inside Harry's room and check on him before Gemma came back or not.
I haven't went inside the room to look at Harry since I've been here and it didn't help when it came to throwing my emotions away because of the guilty feeling resonating in my stomach that only made me feel worse. Every time I reached for the doorknob, I was reluctant and couldn't find the strength in me to go through with my actions.
Pastor Styles left an hour after we arrived because he had to get tomorrow's service prepared, which instantly made me upset. Why would he put a church over his own son? I tried to doubt Harry's thoughts about his father but after witnessing him make an inconsiderate decision like that allowed me to understand what Harry meant.
Harry mentioned to me once that Pastor Styles had choose to dwell his days on the church instead of seeing his own wife while she was on her last breaths and that was the most devastating story to listen to. You could tell it affected Harry even talking about it, but he did a remarkable job at keeping a calm composure.
"I brought you some water, regardless of what you said to me." I heard Gemma said from not too afar, making me gaze up at her.
She still was taking this situation better than I am; she kept a welcoming smile on her face, made jokes and was able to communicate with her daughter Lauren who wasn't aware of her uncles conditions. She, of course, asked Gemma about him many times and unfortunately, her mother had to lie and say that he was at home with me.
But that's how it should've been.
Harry and I should be at home watching cringing romantic comedy's or a telenovela that we can't understand but find ourselves deeply intrigued by the drama. We shouldn't be here— he shouldn't be here.
