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Hardy had always hated hospitals. He could remember, clear as day, the smell of the cold corridor he waited in while his mother wasted away. It haunted his nightmares until fresher ghosts had taken its place.
He never wanted to be in one again.
Of course, as with everything else in his life, it hadn’t worked out the way he wanted it to. When his heart problems became more serious, he swore to himself he wouldn’t put Daisy through what he had been through. He couldn’t abide the thought of her living with the same horrors he had.
Somehow, he had kept his promise. Daisy hadn’t spent a second in a hospital waiting for him. Hardy had been rather proud of that until that afternoon, when he received a call and realised there was a scenario far worse than the one he had feared for all of those years.
He could have been the one back in the corridor, waiting for her.
Sitting back in the uncomfortable metal chair, he pocketed his phone. It was hard not to think of his mother. It may have been over twenty years since he had last seen her, but he still felt like the scared teenager, unsure and alone, waiting for news he couldn’t bare to accept could possibly be bad.
“Here.”
Hardy flinched at the noise and looked up to see Miller passing him a bottle of water. He took it, grateful to have something to do with his hands as she settled next to him.
“Managed to get you a sandwich as well.” She rummaged around in the plastic bag she had returned with. When he had finally got in contact with Tess she had excused herself, saying she was going to find them something to drink. By the looks of things, she had emptied the entire shop. “It’s basically just leaves and bread so I figured you’d like it.”
“Not hungry.”
“Later, then.” She carried on organising the bag, undeterred by his reply. “Got some magazines for Daisy, too. How’s Tess?”
“She’s on her way. Should only be a couple of hours. Depending on traffic.” He put the bottle of water down at his feet. He could feel her eyes on him, but he reread the poster in front of him for the sixth time instead of meeting her gaze.
“You should drink something.”
“Don’t.”
“What?”
“Badger me.”
“Fine.”
She dumped the bag on the floor but didn’t huff like he expected her to. It frustrated him more than it should have done. The last thing he wanted was an argument but knowing she was holding back only set him on edge.
“Have you heard-”
“Of course, I haven’t!” he snapped. “Don’t you think I would have mentioned if I had?”
“Sorry.”
Hardy scrubbed a hand over his face and finally looked at Miller. She was chewing her bottom lip and fiddling with the lid of her drink. Since the school had phoned him, she had been at his side, driving him to the hospital and calming him down when he was short with the hospital staff.
Feeling like an arse, he squeezed her hand. “Sorry.”
Her lips quirked into a smile. “It’s okay. I understand.”
“Still. Shouldn’t take it out on you.”
Miller leant forward in her seat to catch his eye. “She’s going to be okay.”
He shook his head. “She collapsed.”
“It could be something tiny. Dehydration. It’s hot as balls out there. And, if she’s anything like you -” She picked up his drink and forced it into his hand. “-she doesn’t look after herself.”
“That’s the problem though,” Hardy said, clutching the bottle. “She’s like me.”
Miller, the doctors and even Tess had told him the same thing but it was pointless. He knew the reason his little girl was in trouble and was because he had burdened her with his heart issues. She was in pain and it was because of him. After of years of proving he wasn’t a shitty father, he had thought he was making progress. It didn’t mean anything now.
“We’re supposed to protect our kids. I would die for that girl without - without a second thought and now...” Hardy released a shuddering breath. “She’s hurting because of me.”
He waited for Miller’s reply but it never came. He glanced at her and noticed she was visibly struggling to stay silent.
“What?”
“What do you mean what? ”
Hardy sighed. “Just say it. Whatever you it is you-”
“You’re being thick.”
There we go, he thought. Her usually kind eyes were burning with the kind of fire that he only saw when he had pissed her off.
“It’s not like you gave her arrhythmia as a Christmas present, is it? We still don’t know that it is her heart anyway! Besides, that’s just part of parenting. We feed them, wash them, let them live with us rent free and then get revenge by lumping them with our shitty medical history.”
“Which parenting book did you read that in?”
“Stop blaming yourself for something that might not even have happened and you have no control over!”
Her words washed over him but had little impact. His self-loathing had insulated him against much worse in the past. This was nothing to him.
Miller sighed and shifted in her seat to face him. Hardy stared at his knees. She provided comfort he didn’t deserve, but he was too weak to send her away.
“Look, say… say it is her heart,” she said gently. “They’ve caught it soon, haven’t they? How long was it before you were properly diagnosed?”
“God knows.” A doctor had once told him he could have been suffering for his entire adult life and it was only when stress exacerbated it to the point that he couldn’t ignore it that it was picked up on.
“But, because of you, they know to check for that first. She won’t have to go through all that.”
Hardy scoffed. “No, she just ends up with a pacemaker as a teenager.”
“Better than constant agony and having heart attacks left, right and bloody centre!”
An image of Daisy alone and bleeding in a hotel bathroom flashed through Hardy’s head. It was enough to put a crack in the barriers he had erected. His eyes started to burn and he turned away.
Logically, he knew it wouldn’t be the same. For one, Daisy wasn’t living in a hotel and was surrounded by family and friends. It didn’t stop his imagination running riot, however. His little girl couldn’t live like he had. He wouldn’t allow it.
He swiped angrily at his eyes and exhaled sharply. He refused to breakdown. Daisy needed him to be strong.
As he was trying to rally himself, he felt Miller’s warm hand on his thigh. He took it without thinking and turned it over to hold it properly. Knowing he wasn’t alone, that whatever happened, she would be there, helped him get his breathing under control.
His gratitude couldn’t work through the lump in his throat, but he knew she understood.
The door opposite them opened and a doctor emerged. He gave the pair of them a smile before approaching.
“Daisy Hardy’s parents?”
Hardy stood, still clutching Miller’s hand. “I’m her father.”
The rush of pride he felt every time he said those words calmed him further.
“You can see her now,” the doctor said. “She might be a bit groggy, but she’s in no immediate danger. I’ll be back when we’ve compiled our results.”
“Thank you,” Miller said and he nodded.
The doctor smiled at them and walked away down the corridor. Hardy watched him, wondering if he would be as positive the next time they spoke.
“Hey,” Miller whispered and he faced her. She cupped his cheek and rubbed the traces of his tears away with her thumb. “Do you want me to wait out here?”
“No.” He answered before she had finished her question.
She kissed him softly. Every time was like the first. It was as though a breeze took his tension and worries away, leaving him only with a contentment he had been chasing since childhood. It was as familiar as it was thrilling.
How had he lived so long without her?
“Just so you know,” she said shakily when they broke apart, “if she has ended up with your heart, I’m glad.” She straightened his tie, then rested her hands on her chest. “It’s the best part of you.”
He kissed her again, knowing he would never find the words to tell her she was wrong. As far as he was concerned, the best parts of him were the girl in the room next door and the woman who gave him the strength to walk in there to see her. Nothing would convince him otherwise.