That Night

viii

"We could do this place," I say, Mary looking over the laptop. I watch her close and she shrugs, her lip taken between her teeth.

"Keep looking," she says, my head nodding. We have sheets spread across my kitchen table, looking at every cancer research center in the US.

I wrap my arm around her waist and she curls towards me as she reads over the screen. She finds one close to San Francisco, her head nodding.

"I like this one. Not too far away from here. Just in Sacramento," she says, my head nodding. She moves her fingers against the keyboard, looking over everything the place has to offer.

"Do you think she would like it?" I wonder, her head nodding. I can tell she's still nervous about letting me do this, but I want to help. But I don't want her to think she's getting charity. I honestly just want to help her and her mom so they can live a better life.

"Are you sure?" she whispers, my hand lifting. I brush her hair behind her ear and she looks up at me, my head leaning closer to hers.

"I want to help," I say, her cheeks flushing. She looks away from me and I set a kiss to the corner of her jaw, feeling her soft skin.

My hand moves to her back and she tilts her head towards mine, my forehead leaning on hers.

"You okay?" I ask, her eyelashes fluttering so her eyes close. I receive a hum of affirmation and I smile, keeping my arm around her but I lift my hand to rest on the back of her neck.

Ruining our moment, my phone rings and I excuse myself. I get up and grab my phone, answering it.

"Harry, I need you to come in today. Our client needs to run over trial reports," Johnson says on the other side of the line, my eyebrows furrowing.

"I'm kind of busy," I say, his sigh heard.

"I get it, but we need to do this today because of the court order. Please, come through for this," he says, hanging up quickly.

I groan and walk back into the kitchen, Mary turning her head to look at me. "Mary, I, uh, have to go into work. I'll take you home," I get out, her head nodding.

I rush into my room and put on a dress shirt and dress shoes, grabbing my keys and wallet. Mary is waiting by the door and I walk out with her, her hand taken in mine. We get into my car and she turns a music station she likes on, her hands setting on her lap after.

"What do you have to do?" she asks, my head turning to glance at her. I've never heard her start conversation and I'm pleasantly surprised, my lips curving.

"My client is coming in and we have to go over his case before we go to court. Shouldn't take too long, so I could take you to dinner tonight," I say, her head shaking.

"I have plans, you know...with my mom," she tells me, my head nodding.

I pull in front of her house and I unlock the door, her hand opening the door. But I'm surprised when she walks to my side, my finger pushing the window down.

"You're welcome to come here for dinner," she whispers, my lips curving at her.

"I might take you up on that," I say, her cheeks blushing. But she kisses my cheek and I find myself unable to stop smiling, her head pulling back to show a shy smile.

"Bye, Harry," she grins, my hand waving as she walks away.

I drive down to the law firm, irritated I had to leave Mary. She is letting go only the slightest and I don't want to do anything to freak her out. There is nothing that feels better than knowing the fact she's starting to like me.

"How was the chick you nailed Friday? Any good?" Lance asks, the mailroom assistant always talking to me about this stuff. But today I feel repulsed.

"Don't bring that shit up," I say, his eyebrows furrowing.

"Dude, what the fuck?" he asks, my head shaking.

"Don't talk about that. It's done," I tell him, his eyebrows lifting.

"Wait, wait, wait. You're done?" he asks, Liam stepping into the hall.

"What's going on?" he asks, my jaw clenching.

"Styles won't talk about his Friday nights anymore," Lance says, my shoulders shrugging. Liam just smiles.

"'Cause Harry found her," Liam says, my lips pressed together tightly.

"Found who?" Lance asks, then takes a second to figure it out.

"No way! You have a fucking girlfriend?!" he asks, my hand running through my hair.

"She's not my girlfriend," I say, but Liam scoffs then laughs.

"Yeah, okay."

"I'm serious. She's not. I'm trying to earn her trust and...it's complicated," I say, the two of them both looking at me like I have four eyes.

"That's crazy," Lance says, my eyes rolling. We get into the conference room, Lance dropping off a box before walking out again.

We get to work and I leave around seven, my body getting into my car. I drive over to Mary's house and shut the engine off, my body getting out. But I see Mary running out of the house towards me, my eyebrows frowning when I see her crying.

Her arms wrap around my waist and I wrap my arms around her, hugging her close to me. I feel her hands fist my tee and she cries into my chest, my hand moving to set on the back of her head.

"What's wrong, Mary?" I ask, her face buried in my chest.

"S-She wasn't breathing," she cries, my heart dropping.

"Where is she?" I ask, her lips taking a deep breath.

"In her room. Harry," she keeps crying, my hands hugging her close.

"Let's go check on her. It's okay."

She holds my hand tightly and she stays close to me, the two of us going upstairs. We walk into her room and I see her mother laying bed, her body resting. Mary climbs onto the bed and curls into her, crying even more. I make a call to 911 and tell them a woman is very sick.

I go over and feel her lack of a pulse, my heart breaking. Mary is crying into her neck and I feel her mom's cold hands, my hand running over my face. This is insane; never dealing with this situation.

The ambulance comes and I go down, talking to the paramedics about everything. We go upstairs and I go to Mary, her body shaking with how violently she's crying. I sit on the edge of the bed, holding her as they take her mother to the morgue.

"We'll go tomorrow and help her. I won't leave you alone. Okay, I'm right here," I say, hugging her close. I take her out of this room and she clings her small body to me, my hands holding her back. We sit on the living room couch and I hold her until she stops crying, her hands holding my shoulders.

"Please, stay," she breathes, my hands staying on her. I want her to be safe with me and I feel like this will help. The circumstances suck, but I want her to be just as she is.

I keep her on my lap and remove my shoes as I sit here, her body still held in my arms. My body moves up and I lay down, keeping Mary at my side, right where she should be.

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