Sixteen

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Waiting for the news seems to be wrecking my head. I've been pacing hence and forth inside the waiting area in the Emergency Room. It's been a long while since we brought Sam here, and yet we haven't heard anything from the attending doctor.

I can't stop thinking about the way Liam carried Sam in his arms, and how she complained nonstop about the pain in her lower abdomen. No, she has to be fine, dear God. Please don't let anything bad happen to her and the baby. With my finger crossed, I keep praying inside.

"Kira." Liam's voice manages to capture my attention. He'd stepped out and I forgot that I was alone.

Cocking my head to his side, I find him holding two paper cups of steamed coffee as he strides closer. I quickly walk towards him. "They haven't said anything up until now!" I tell him hysterically.

"I know. Have a seat first," Liam instructs, directing me toward the sofa lying unoccupied. I comply smoothly. "Have some coffee, it'll warm you up." He hands me a cup, and we both sit down afterwards.

Uncomfortably, I take a sip. "Thank you," I utter with a smile, trying hard to be calm and patient.

Liam nods. "I spoke to the nurse at the reception; she said just a little longer and we'll hear the news. It will be fine, okay?" He stretches his arm and pulls me to his side so I lay my head on his shoulder.

"Yes. It has to be," I breathe and a little silence blankets the atmosphere as I relax in his brace.

I just want to hear the news! Taking another sip of my coffee, I gaze up at Liam and smile softly at him. He smooches the top of my head responsively and I'm glad I'm not alone.

"You're hot," Liam mutters quietly after a short while.

"Hot?" I succeed in laughing a little.

Liam chuckles, finding my reaction quite uncalled for. "I mean you're burning, Kira. Your temperature is high—are you feeling okay?" he inquires in that condescending tone of his that turns me into a seven-years old girl whenever he uses it.

I place my palm around my neck, confirming Liam's allegation. It's true, my skin feels warmer than usual, but I'm not sick.

"I think I'm feeling normal, though," I answer truthfully.

"Are you sure?" Liam drinks his coffee without quitting his gaze on me.

"Mmm, totally." I bob my head.

"Okay." He takes a sigh, pulling me back to his side—my favorite place. "Maybe because you're hot indeed, Ms. Jones," he teases when I least expect, snatching my anxiety in a whiff.

"Stop your naughtiness, Mr. Darcy. Not here, please," I remark casually, laughing. "I was—" My phone buzzes, pulling a little frown on my face.

"Who is it?" Liam queries as I tug the mobile from my purse.

Checking the caller ID, I suddenly feel panicked to see Jonathan's number. Damn it! He probably tried to reach Sam through her mobile and got to response, so he decided to call me instead.

"It's Jonathan," I utter, shifting my eyes from the phone's screen to Liam. "What do I do? Should I answer? I'm sure he's calling to ask about Sam." I don't know what to do.

"Yes. If you don't he'll be worried," Liam states matter-of-factly.

"And should I tell him the truth?" My gaze shifts conflicted between Liam and the phone.

"Tell him the truth. It's what I'd prefer if I were in his place." Liam doesn't spare me a scruple.

"Yeah. What else was I expecting from you again?" I get up sighing, and he smiles faintly at my remark. "Let me call him back," I mutter.

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