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"I can't do this!" Mila cries, her voice breaking. Her blonde hair is plastered to her head with sweat, her face bright red. Her bottom lip quivers. Dark circles ring her pain-filled green eyes. A single tear rolls down her cheek.
The sight kills me.
"Shh, baby," I whisper, running my hands up and down her arms, trying to calm her down. I fucking hate it when she cries.
"You're almost there, Mila," Dr. Tanner says, looking up from between her legs.
"Roman," Mila whimpers, ignoring the man as she focuses on me.
I ignore him, too. If I don't, I'll think about the fact that he's looking at Mila's pussy, and that'll just piss me off. I can't think about that right now. She needs me.
"What can I do, baby?" It's killing me that she's in so much pain. I'm never getting her pregnant again. No fucking way can I watch her go through this labor shit again. We've been at the hospital for the last twenty-four hours. She's been pushing for over an hour already, and she's exhausted. I don't know how to help her, and it's driving me insane.
"I can't do this," she says again.
"You can," I whisper, leaning down to press my lips to her forehead. "You're a fucking warrior, baby, and you can do this. Just a few more pushes, and our little girl will be here, and then you can sleep." Every time she'd get comfortable last night, another contraction would hit. She hasn't slept more than an hour since we got here yesterday morning.
She groans in pain as another contraction starts. More tears drip down her face.
"Push, Mila," Dr. Tanner and one of his nurses encourage at the same time.
Mila does as she's told and pushes as hard as she can, crying the entire time. When the contraction ends, Dr. Tanner tells her to relax again. She falls weakly back into the bed. Sobs wrack her body. I'm not sure if it's the pain or the exhaustion overwhelming her, but I've had enough. I know she wanted to do this without medication, but she can't do this shit anymore and neither can I. Watching her cry her way through this is torture.
"She needs something for the pain," I snap at Dr. Tanner.
"It's a little too late for that," he says, his voice soft and sympathetic. "The baby will be here by the time it has any effect. I just need her to push a couple more times."
Well…fuck. I shouldn't have let her refuse pain medication when she declined the epidural. I know she hates medication and wanted to do this naturally, but this is too much for her little body. Watching her, I feel completely fucking helpless. She's the other half of my soul, the mother of my child…and all I'm supposed to do is stand here and watch her fight on her own to bring our little girl into the world.
Fuck that.
Mila doesn't fight alone. Not anymore.
"Scoot forward, baby," I tell her, reaching out to slide her forward in the bed.
"Mr. Gregory–"
Dr. Tanner snaps his mouth closed when I glare at him.
I help Mila lean forward and then scoot down in the bed. Before Dr. Tanner can say anything to stop me, I slide in behind her, allowing her to lean back against me so I can support her. She collapses against my chest, still crying.
I move her hair off her neck and place a kiss to her sweaty skin before wrapping my arms around her. "I've got you, baby," I whisper in her ear. "We're going to do this together, okay?"
"Okay," she whispers, sniffling.
Dr. Tanner and the nurse beside him look like they want to object to me being in the bed with her, but I don't really give a shit. I'm not moving. Not a force on earth is getting me out of this bed until she's done pushing. I can't take the pain away, but I can help her through it, and that's exactly what I'm going to do, regardless of protocol.
I think Dr. Tanner knows not to even bother trying to get me to move. He eyes me for a split second and then shakes his head, a wry smile tilting his lips up. He turns back to Mila without saying a word.
"You're not supposed to be in the bed with me," Mila whispers, still sniffling.
"I don't give a fuck," I mutter, running my hands up and down her arms again. "I'm not moving from this bed until Stella is here, baby. We're doing this together."
"Stella?" she asks.
Before I can answer, another contraction hits.
"Push, sweetheart," I whisper in her ear, holding her little body tightly as she cries out in pain. I keep my lips planted next to her ear as two nurses push her legs back toward her round belly, and she starts pushing again. "You're doing so fucking good, Mila. Do you have any idea how much I love you? You're so strong. You can do this."
