Positive | ✓

[53] Positive

~*~*~*~*~*~ Cory's POV ~*~*~*~*~*~

Chapter Fifty-Three

"Cory Peterson?" a voice called out from behind me.  My head immediately snapped up, breaking my slumber, as I saw the doctor looking around.  Getting to my feet I rushed over to him.

            "That's me.  I'm Cory.  How is she?" I asked in a rush, desperate to know.  She had been taken in over five hours ago and we hadn't heard word.  Her parents were out getting dinner right now.

            The doctor sighed.  "Take a seat, Cory."

            "I'm fine," I replied, wishing he'd just tell me.

            "Lily is going to be fine.  But the baby didn't make it.  During the operation..."

            He continued to talk but I couldn't hear. All I could hear was a voice in my head saying "The baby is dead."  I wanted to go see Lily, tell her it's going to be okay.  But then a suspicion occurred in me.  What if she was still mad from that fight?  What if she didn't want to see me anymore because the baby doesn't tie us.  What if she was only with me because I was the father?

            Get a hold of yourself Cory! The voice in my head instructed.

            Shaking my head I tuned back in to what the doctor was saying. 

            "I'm so sorry," he finished.

            I gave a small nod and felt the tears starting to sting in my eyes.  "Can I go see her?"

            "It will have to be brief, but yes you can."

            The doctor led me down the hall and to Lily's room.  She was sitting up in the bed, staring at the sheets. 

            "Get out," she said to me.

            "What?  Lily?" I asked, rather confused. 

            "I don't want you here!  If we didn't fight, I wouldn't have lost my baby!  It's your fault!  I hate you!"

***

            My eyes snapped open and I sat up in shock, breaths coming in rapidly.  I looked around my room and sighed in relief, back into my sheets.  It was only a nightmare.  But I still hadn't seen Lily in a month.

            I've been going to her house every day and leaving flowers at her door.  She didn't want to see anyone.

            Maybe my nightmare was true.  Maybe she did hate me.  I knew she took the news badly.

            Grabbing my phone, I looked at the time: 4 am, way too early to be awake.  Yet I knew I couldn't get back to sleep.

            Sighing, I got out of my bed and slipped on a jumper.  It was starting to get cold as winter came in.  I walked down the stairs and quickly wrote mum a note saying I was going for a walk, just in case she woke up, then I walked out the door.  It was still dark outside.  The moon shone brightly in the sky.  An owl hooted from not too far away.  I pulled my jumper tighter on me and kept walking.