Only Hope (Conclusion) | Louis Tomlinson

Only Hope Chapter 33

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Only Hope Chapter 33

Brooke's Pov:

"Louis, please don't make me go," I pleaded him. He shook his head and opened the glass door for me. "I'm fine! I promise." "I don't believe you. It's one check up and that is it," he said, standing his ground. "Louis," I whined. "We are seeing Dr. Grant Anderson, your doctor. He is a nice guy, and you will feel more comfortable with him," he said.

I groaned and walked past him and into the quiet office that was in the process of redecorating. I looked at the newly gray painted walls which had a small wave design at the bottom near the floor. The furniture was brand new and was a black leather instead of red wood. The bookshelves and TVs were covered in a plastic wrap to keep it clean and not broken.

Louis was talking to the receptionist and signed me in before walking over to me and telling me we will need to wait five minutes for the doctor. It wasn't a busy one today and I was thankful. I wanted to get this check-up over and done with. I would have been fine with coming here because let's face it, what happened to me three days ago was scary as hell! And I want to know why my disease made that happen. But the only obstacle in the way is Louis. I can't have him know so soon.

I looked up in his ocean blue eyes and smiled. He smiled and wrapped his muscular arm around my shoulders. My head rested against his shoulder as I cuddled in with him with my arm wrapped around his lean torso.

"You can wait out here, if you like to," I mumbled, still trying to convince him to not go. He shook his head. "You can't change my mind. I want to know why you passed out," he said. "Lack of oxygen?" I suggested. He shook his head. "It can't be that," he said. "You were screaming in pain, meaning you had enough oxygen to scream." "Well, I was feeling light headed before the events occurred," I lied. He shook his head. "Again, you were in pain." "I just don't see the use of coming here. It was a headache that hurt a lot," I said. "Please, we don't need to be here. Let's go home and cuddle or so something. . . maybe even sneak in a kiss or two?" I suggested, persuading him.

The last sentence caught his attention, making him look down at me and raise an eyebrow. "We get to kiss?" he asked, he thought about the idea before shaking his head. A frown fell on my face. "You're health is much more important to me than a kiss-" "Or two!" "Or two. . ."

"Fine then. There will be no kissing for a long time," I said, stubbornly with a pout. "Why is leaving so important to you? Are you hiding something from me?" he asked with great curiosity. "Why are you so curious?" I asked. "I'm curious to know why you are curious of my curiosity," he said. "So are you hiding something?" I looked at him again and shook my head. Of course there was! The temptation to scream it out was slowly coming over me. I wanted to yell it out that I have a disease that is slowly killing me. But I couldn't. It was like someone shoved lies down my throat so I wouldn't speak the truth.

"There is nothing to hide." Lies. "I am perfectly healthy." Another lie. "I'm fine. That's what you needed to know, isn't it?" Final lie of the day. "Yes, but I need to make sure you are physically fine," he said. I wished he could look past my lies and see what is really wrong. I want him to see it in my eyes and say, "no you're not fine. You're sick and dying. How could you say you're fine when you're not?" But in reality, he is as blind as a bat and could never see the truth buried beneath my lies. The only way he will find out is if I tell him; I'm sure it is going to happen much sooner than I think.

"Brooke Styles," Dr. Grant Anderson said, walking through the open door with a clipboard under his arm. "Hello Dr. Grant," I said, sending him a weak smile.