Chapter 36

32 0 0
                                    

Harry's POV

Realistically, a week is seven days, or one hundred and sixty-eight hours, or ten thousand and eighty minutes, or six hundred and four hundred thousand and eight hundred seconds. Yet, a week without Rylie is like an eternity. It feels like someone had taken life's purpose and ripped it with an iron grip. I thought we would Skype more than we do, but she is busier than I thought she would be. When I do see her, her eyes are usually bloodshot, and she doesn't speak for long. She just is always too tired to.

I step inside to always too cool office of the hospital. She woman only took one glance before stating, "Go on, Mr. Styles. You know what to do." I offer a half smile and nod before strolling to the room. I knock once in case someone was there I would rather not be in the same room, and when the little child's voice comes in response, I grin. I nudge the door open to see the child staring back at me. His hair was slowly growing back gradually. His face was looking more natural than the sullen look. His pale skin is gaining some color to it again. Marcus was getting better.

"How is maple syrup, Harry?" he asks as soon as I sit down in the seat behind him. This is how he greeted me each and every time. I knew that there was something that was connecting us. Maybe that's why I continued to visit, we could relate. He may not feel the same pain I do, but he is still sad himself.

"She's okay. I haven't talked to her much since yesterday. She is so tired," I explain, leaning against the chair for support. I missed her wide smile as she looked to this child. I missed her warm eyes from being around children. I just missed her.

Marcus glanced away from me, twiddling his thumbs. He was quiet for a while; I almost thought that he was ready for me to leave. Like that was all that was left to say. I was only needed to update on what Rylie says. Yet, he surprises me when he speaks.

"Momma says I act older. She says I don't have my kid characteristics anymore. Whatever that means," he mumbled, his nimble fingers twisting into the hospital blanket. It was white; the walls were white; the floor was again white. This place was just to bright for what it represents. "Do you think so?" he inquired, lifting his gaze to mine. He was pleading, as if begging for me to lie.

In response, I say, "Mac, you are as young as you feel. How young do you feel now?"

Marcus paused; his lips set in a thin line. "I feel like I am sixteen," he whispered, biting his lip. "I used to feel so much younger...before this," he added.

I pat the kid gently on the shoulder and stand up. "We will bring the life back in you kid. I promise," I whisper as I head for the door.

Before I left, Marcus called, "Tell Mrs. Brown I said hi if she is awake today! Oh and tomorrow, are you coming?" When I nod, he proceeds, "Then can you bring by some junk food. This food is disgusting." Even though he was attempting to talk quietly, it was basically said in a scream. I nod again, anything for this kid. The smile that grows in place is priceless. Stepping out, I go too rooms down and knock once before entering. She knew I was coming. I always come.

Her eyes were half open, but she turned to look to me; a small smile was etched on her face. "Harry, come here," she murmured, opening her arms. I follow suit and wrap my arms around her slowly. After we released, she placed her hand under my chin and whispered, "Take care of my daughter. Whatever happens. You hear me?" I nod; if she was saying this, then they finally had her results back on the CAT scan.

"The results?"

Licking her lips, she murmured, "They came back positive. The cancer is growing as we speak. They say I will be able to make it, but I am not too sure."

I couldn't imagine her not being able to visit Rylie. She was counting on that visit. Yet, if she couldn't due to how much she is hurting, then it must mean something.

"Harry, I'll be fine. How's Marcus?" she whispered, changing the subject and releasing her hold on me.

I find my voice after a few moments. "He's good, or doing better. He looks better than he did when Rylie was around. He said, 'hey,'" I report. A wide grin, the same one Rylie has, slips onto her face. She loved that child just as much as Rylie did. I am sure.

I look to the time. I was running out. I had things I had to do and minimum time to do so. "Go Harry. I'll be fine," she whispered, as if she were reading my thoughts. I smile and stand.

"I'll bring you a sandwich next time," I state before leaving. The first place I was going to go was to the store.

---

Rylie's POV

Click. Click. Type. Type. Type. Click. Click. Words. Voices. Smiles. Click. Click.

It was constant. It was continuous. It was my life for the past couple of months. I miss Harry dearly. We don't Skype as much as I would like. We barely even call each other. I have been busy, and our times are so off. I don't want to Skype him while he is trying to get some shut eye. And he feels the same way.

I brushed a hand through my nappy hair and groaned as my phone began to ring. It took it and glanced at the caller ID. It wasn't the person I was hoping for, but it was someone I missed.

"Hello?"

"Rylie...," comes a shaky reply. There were tears on the other line.

Gemma was crying.

"What is it?" I answer, prepared to get up at any given moment.

"Rylie, please just come visit. Now," she pleaded. I stood and packed my bags, my phone still tucked near my ear.

"I'll be there. By tomorrow morning."

--
After I cleared everything with the family I was staying with, they agreed I could go for the weekend to visit Gemma. I was on the plane now; my leg was bouncing, and it was close to landing.

I missed Harry. I haven't talked to Harry. Why haven't I? There is no real explanation.

As soon as we landed, a distraught Gemma and a silent Will met me. I wrapped my arms around Gemma first; then, I gave Will a tight hug following.

"Now what happened?" I ask, stepping back to take in the two of them. The last time I was in England, I got in a jealous fit. I felt so much different now.

"It is best we tell you back at home. But...we are waiting on someone else...," Gemma began, trailing.

"Hey Gemma...sorry it took so long. I ended up having to take a later fl-"

Our eyes met; my heart stopped in my chest. The tall, lengthy guy standing before me stared back at me. His too green eyes bore into me. I couldn't speak, nor could I do much of anything. It had been months since I have seen him. Skype excluded.

Our bodies collide as if they are two cars crashing into one another. His strong arms grip my body; my hands have a hold on his collared shirt. He sure does cleanup well.

"Rylie Nicole Brown, oh have I missed you so," he states.

Me too, Harry, Me too.

ReasonsWhere stories live. Discover now