Walls Of Hearts

Chapter 113

Anne was leaving to go back to Holmes Chapel the next weekend, when Harry and I got back from our week away. To say I was upset was an understatement and it was ironic as most people probably get excited when their in-laws were leaving, yet I loved mine so much. It was funny as I was almost just as disappointed to see her leave as Harry was, if not, more.

"If he gets frustrating to deal with, don't hesitate to call me, love, and I'll sort him out, okay?" Anne laughed softly as she hugged me tightly, motioning to Harry as she spoke. "Don't forget about me, yeah? I expect calls regularly to make sure you're doing okay."

"Thank you so much, Anne. I honestly appreciate your support and everything you've done. I love you, you know that, right?" The sun was beating down on us, through the door that was open wide. Harry watched from outside as he got the car ready for Anne.

"Babe, let's not go there, yeah? It's what family does - don't sweat it. Don't ever feel like you need to thank me for it."

I held back the next 'thank you' at the tip of my tongue that would have slipped out so easily from my lips and Harry was smirking from behind his mother, knowing how I was fighting the urge.

"Mum, honestly, just stay longer." Harry interjected, shaking his head as he tried once again as he saw how disappointed Anne was leaving. He was also highly aware of how heartbroken I was, and I'm sure he felt that on an intensified level.

"Babe, I would, but I need to head back for some time. Robin's there on his own and it's good for you guys to have some time with Trace and Alistair - especially Jasmine. When you go back on tour, I'll be here occasionally. Let's let Jasmine breathe a bit, yeah?" She laughed softly.

"If anything, it's you who we should let breathe. You, and Robin, Mum and Dad and Mike and Gemma - after spending all this time with us without having to." I'd spoken up.

"We're not having this conversation again, babe. Now, make sure you call me after the appointment tomorrow, yeah?" She looked at Harry as she said that.

Oh yeah, I had an appointment the next day with Dr Isaac. It had been about two weeks and a half since we'd been home and Dr Isaac wanted to do another 'quick' review and a check-in, particularly because they recommended using the crutches for a month and we were at the half-way point.

It was insane because part of me still felt like it all just happened last week - we were in the hospital and I was waiting to go home and then I found out about our baby. But simultaneously, it felt like we were stuck in this for far too long.

Our baby, Harry and I had began to get used to refer to the baby we lost as an actual baby and not just a miscarriage that had happened. It really felt scary to make that shift but it felt right. It felt right to accept the truth and give the love we would have given regardless. We couldn't just act like it never happened because that would mean ignoring that it was real, that he or she, was real. They were more than just a short time for Harry and I and I guess I had another loved one I'd let live on through my life.

I shook myself out the thought spiral and hugged Anne goodbye. Harry turned to me before he'd take a step forward to the car.

"You want me to grab anything on the way back, babe? I'm stopping off at the pharmacy to get your painkillers - they've finished, right?" He'd said, lowly.

"Yeah, I guess." In all honesty, I wasn't the greatest at staying on top of my meds. That's why Harry had known they'd finished before even I noticed. "If you are at the pharmacy, can you get me a hair claw - you know, those clips? They always have that stand of hair accessories. I left my last one at the hospital."

"Okay, um, you might have to send me a picture of how they look." He'd admitted. I merely nodded my head.

"But, uh, if you remember, they're the ones that you've broken so many of." I'd responded, hoping that he would be able to recollect the memory and thus remember what clip I was talking about. And instantly, he did and I could see the memory - memories, rather - flicker over his face. He'd always take one and play with it, promising me that he wouldn't break it. But he'd have it in his hand for the next few days and eventually come to me, a look of guilt and sorrow over his face. Almost like a five year old, he'd apologise to me sadly and actually quite fearfully. And although I would get annoyed every time, I'd always found it just as humourful.