Harry's POV

Before I met Chloe, the only future I pictured was the next drink I was going to have or the next blunt I'd smoke. Then she came along, and changed me. She had me thinking about a real future, a future farther out then the next drink or blunt; a future including a life with her.

A future where we'd grow old together.

And now, I'm sitting here with no tears left in me to cry, praying for a miracle where we'd get to do that.



It's been 6 hours and 27 minutes since the doctors took Chloe from my arms, and it's been just as long since I've been sitting in this uncomfortable, ER waiting room chair. Mum left about two hours ago, promising she'd be back in the morning, and if anything happened, I'd better call her.

I agreed, hoping a doctor would come out of the operating room soon and give me a reason to call her-a good reason that is.

I'd daydreamed about a hundred times while waiting in this room already, all of them revolving around a doctor coming out and telling me my girl would be all right.

I still don't even know what happened.

I decided that if they're still in there, then there must be hope. There has to be hope; if Chloe's gone, than I don't know what I'd do. I know I shouldn't be thinking like this, especially after everything I've been through, but it's true. I've grown strong enough to be okay with Chloe not visiting me for two weeks, but Chloe dying? Gone forever?

No way. I couldn't do it.

But she'll be okay. She needs to be okay. I need her to be okay.

I opt to think of when she gets better, and the day I'm able to take her home. Things will be better, we'll be in love and move on with our lives. I'll give her the happily ever after she deserves, and try my damnedest not to fuck it up like I always do.

I'll love her unconditionally, and she'll do the same.

---

I'm in the middle of praying the rosary for the 1000th time that night when a doctor enters the waiting room. I immediately stand to my feet in anticipation. She's going to be okay, I hope.

"Is Chloe Hayes okay?" I ask him.

"Are you a family member of Ms. Hayes?" He asks.

Is he fucking serious? I thought that was only a thing on movies and television shows to ask people that. Who gives a fuck who I am, I need to know if she's okay.

"I'm her boyfriend," at least I hope to be when you tell me she's okay and is going to live. "Is she okay, or what?" I snap.

"I'm sorry, is there a family member here I can speak to? If you're not related to Ms. Hayes, then I'm afraid I'm not at liberty to divulge any information-"

"Listen," I look at his name tag, "Dr. Raymond. I'm the only family Ms. Hayes has, and I don't give a fuck whether we have the same blood or same last name. She will be my wife one day, and if you don't tell me she's going to be okay, then you'll be a patient in your own fucking hospital."

I can feel my face heating up as I say my last words. Fuck, I'm so agitated, I know that probably wasn't the best way to react. However, it seemed to get his attention. Doctor Raymond looks scared shitless. At least it did the trick...

"Of course, sir," he spits out. I kind of feel bad watching him shake like a little girl, but then again, I really don't. "Let's sit down, yeah?"

Oh fuck.

I nod and follow him to those stupid chairs. I swallow and try to remember those breathing exercises that Doctor Nelson taught me in rehab as Chloe's doctor looks through the papers on his clipboard. Of course, they don't do shit.

"There's good news, and there's bad news," Doctor Raymond begins, adjusting the collar of his shirt nervously. "The good news is, your a... Chloe is alive. Unfortunately, she had a miscarriage, but Chloe's obstetrician must've already told you that would be likely with all of the medication she's on and the chemo she's just started for the Osteosarcoma."

My mind begins to race and I become incredibly confused. Baby? Chemo? Osteosarcoma?

"I think you have your patients switched. Chloe isn't pregnant and she doesn't have... Osteo..whatever you called it."

"Osteosarcoma, it's bone cancer," Doctor Raymond says as he frowns and squints at his clipboard, rereading the papers. "No, I haven't switched any patients. It says right here: Chloe Elizabeth Hayes, ten weeks pregnant, recently diagnosed with stage one osteosarcoma."

What the fuck.

The room begins spinning around me and my world turns black. I don't even know what happens until I wake up with a massive headache, and an overly happy nurse standing above me.

"Don't worry, you fainted in the waiting room so we brought you in here to lay down. You'll be okay... Would you like some water, or perhaps some juice? Maybe you should eat something-"

"Where's Doctor Raymond?" I cut her off.

"I believe he's in the OR. Is everything okay?," she frowns.

"No," I sit up and feel my whole body ache. "I need to speak to him."

The nurse looks confused, but she picks up the phone and dials a number. Meanwhile, I get up from the hospital bed and leave the room, going on a mad hunt for this guy.

I need to know if my Chloe will be okay.

I still don't believe he had the right patient when he was telling me she was pregnant and had cancer. That's incredibly unprofessional, confusing patients like that.

I'm confused myself as to where I am in this maze of a hospital, but thankfully, I run into my mum.

"Oh Harry! Are you okay? I was just coming to find you, how does your head feel?"

"I'm fine Mum," I lie. "Where's Doctor Raymond, have you talked to him?"

"Yes," Mum's eyes tear up. "I'm so sorry, Harry. I didn't know either. Let's go back to the waiting room and sit down, okay?"

"What are you talking about, you didn't know?"

"I didn't know she was pregnant, or that she had cancer. She never told me. Did you know that's the same cancer her mother had? Shoot, I'm sorry, that was a terrible thing to mention."

Oh fuck. Bone cancer. That doctor was talking about the right patient.

No. No. No. No. No.

I begin to sob. Sob like, can't breathe, can't see, can't stand up, can't move, can't think, can't feel sob.

All I know is that my mum is holding me in her arms as we sit on the tiled floor of the corridor.

"I didn't know," I begin to speak. "Why didn't she tell me?"

"Shhh, Harry, it'll be okay, she's going to be okay. You'll be okay." I'm surprised my mum could even understand me through my hideous cries.

"I need to see her. I need her, Mum. Let me see her." I start to stand up, but Mum pulls me back down.

"Harry, you can't. She's still being tested and they won't allow anyone in yet. You'll see her soon enough."

I continue to cry until there's nothing left in me. I look at the clock on the wall and realize we've been sitting here in this hallway for over an hour.

"Her mum died," I state coldly. "Chloe can't die. No."

"Have faith, Harry. You need to be strong for her. She'll be okay if you believe that."

My mum's now crying too. Why does this have to happen now? Why does this have to happen, period?

I want to get up and punch a wall or throw something through a window, but I know I'd just be backtracking. I take three calming deep breaths and try to think of the positive.

What positive?

There's nothing positive about this situation. I feel confused still, upset most of all though. I'm angry that God is putting Chloe through so much. She doesn't deserve any of this, and I hate that I can't take the pain away from her. I'm sad that I've lost a child, a child I didn't even know about.

Kids. They were always in the future I'd imagine for me and Chloe. Two kids-one girl (who looks just like their mum) and a boy who'd be protective of his sister. We'd all live a happy life together and nothing would ever change that.

Sure, I'd imagined them to come later on in our lives, like after college, but thinking of Chloe having a baby now didn't make me as scared as most guys my age would be. Chloe would be the best mum there is, and I'd try to be the best dad I could be. I wouldn't be anything like Chloe and I's dad's, and we'd love our children more than anything.

But now, we'll have to wait.

And then on top of the miscarriage, cancer. The same cancer that took Chloe's mum away. I refuse to let it take my girl's life. Not a chance. No.

No. That's all I'm thinking. No, I won't let her die. No, she doesn't deserve this. No, I can't lose her. No, she will wake up. No, I don't believe any of this is even happening.

---

"Mr. Styles?"

My head shoots up from my hands as that douche bag doctor calls my name from across the waiting room. It's been another three hours since I've been in here.

"What is it? Is she awake? Can I see her now?"

"She's not awake, but you're welcome to see her if you'd like."

I begin walking past him, heading straight towards her room. I just need to touch her, see her, find out that she's okay myself.

"Just a moment, Mr. Styles,"

"It's Harry," I correct him.

"Harry," he says apologetically. "Chloe may be unconscious for a few days, or even a month. She's stable right now, but you must be patient. We're doing everything we can, but sometimes that isn't enough-"

"Don't say this shit to me. She's going to be okay."

"I apologize. I just want you to be prepared. I'll give you some time with her-we encourage you to talk to her about anything really. Sometimes that's all it takes to wake them up."

I nod and make my way to her room, intending to do just that.

The second I turn the knob on the door and see her laying there, I want to turn around and walk out. I'm not as strong as I claim to be.

Honestly, I want to hold her in my arms and cry. I feel like crying like a fucking baby, because there's nothing I can do to make her better.

I force myself to walk to her bedside and pull a chair so I can be near her. I study her pale skin and dry lips. What I would give to kiss them right now. She looks so vulnerable.

My hand begins to shake as I lift it off my lap so I can hold hers. A cool shiver runs through my body as I feel her cold skin against mine. I bring her hand to my lips and kiss the soft skin of her knuckles.

That's when I lose it. Again.

"Please baby, wake up," I say as the tears well up in my eyes. "I need you Chloe, don't leave me."

I hold onto her hand for longer than I can keep track of, and I feel myself dozing off, dreaming of Chloe waking me up, and everything being okay.



When I wake up, it's only because the sun has began to rise, and the light is coming through the window. I'm still clutching onto Chloe's hand, but she's still in the same position.

I sit there for another four hours, talking to her about the last two weeks in rehab, and how happy I was to finally see her. Talking to a comatose body feels more pathetic than writing in that damn journal.

But I continue to do it, because deep down I hope she's hearing everything I say.

Then, by some greater power, a miracle happens. Just as I finish telling her about how I fainted earlier, her small fingers begin to curl around my hand. Her head begins to move and her eyelids flutter.

I'm holding my breath, silently sending up one last prayer that right now is the moment where I finally get to see those beautiful brown eyes again.

"Harry?" Her voice is raspy with dehydration, but it's music to my ears.

Tears of joy and happiness freely fall from my eyes and a smile forms on my face. "Yeah, it's me baby. You're going to be okay, all right? I'm here, you're okay."

"What are you doing here?" She asks, clearly surprised. It's only then that I remember she had no clue I was released from the rehab center.

"I got out," I shrug. "I missed you."

She gives me a weak smile and reaches out to touch my face. "Am I dead?"

My heart contracts and I become speechless. No and thank The Lord she isn't. "No baby, you're okay, you're better now."

"I have cancer Harry," she swallows. I can tell it's becoming difficult for her to speak, so I press the call button next to her bed for a doctor or nurse to come in.

"I know," I whisper. "I know everything, Chloe. It's okay, we'll get through this. Together."

Notes

Sorry if this is shitty, I wrote this on my phone and I'm so exhausted right now lol

but please COMMENT, RATE & SUBSCRIBE!