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“There’s no love,” she said. “And now everything’s ruined. I can’t be with you anymore.” She turned, searching for her handbag. It was where she always left it—on the small desk by the pantry.
She ran toward it, circling around to avoid Killion, but he didn’t try to stop her. Instead he watched her with unreadable eyes. She had a brief thought she was being cruel, that later she would regret her words and her actions, but the need to escape was too strong for her to listen to her better angels.
She was halfway to her car when her phone buzzed with an incoming text. She almost didn’t look at the screen—whatever he had to say, she didn’t want to listen. But the text wasn’t from Killion at all.
Allison’s in labor. Meet us at the hospital.
Erica stared at the message. “But she’s not due for two weeks. This is too early.”
Which was a stupid thing to say. The baby was coming now and Allison needed her.
On my way, she texted before driving away without once looking back.
Erica shoved the bag of tennis balls behind Allison’s back.
“Better?” she asked.
“No.”
The pathetic, nearly mewing sound of Allison’s voice worried Erica a whole lot more than the early labor. The pregnant mom-to-be had mostly been crying since Erica had arrived, barely responding to questions and not reacting to much of anything except when a contraction caused her body to arch as if she were being electrocuted.
According to the medical staff, her vitals were acceptable and she was progressing normally, albeit slowly.
Erica had arrived to find her mom with Allison as she was being admitted to the hospital. Allison had been pale and shaking, moaning that it was too soon. The baby couldn’t come this soon.
Erica had taken charge, announcing that she was the birthing coach and getting Allison through the tedious paperwork she should have already filled out but hadn’t.
“You should have taken your imminent delivery date more seriously,” she said as she pointed to yet another place for Allison to sign.
“I’m taking it seriously now,” Allison had snapped before straining against a contraction.
Once she’d been admitted, Erica had asked Mara to bring her more comfortable shoes, a pair of yoga pants and a couple of T-shirts. At the rate Allison wasn’t dilating, she could be here for a while.
Five hours later, the two of them were still in the labor room, waiting for Baby Bethany to make her appearance.
“I have ice chips,” Erica said, trying to sound upbeat and cheerful.
Allison lay on her side, her back to Erica. “Go away, leave me alone.”
“Not happening. You’re stuck with me. Once you pop out that kid, I’m outta here, so if you really don’t want me around, then that should be an incentive to move things along.”
“I can’t do this,” Allison whispered.
Erica walked around the bed to face her. “What can’t you do?”
Tears leaked out of her tightly closed eyes. “Have this baby.”
“All evidence to the contrary? What’s going on with you? I know things suck but you’ve always been excited about Bethany. She’s going to be your little girl. You love her.”
Allison’s eyes opened and she half sat up. “This is my fault. She’s early because of the stress. What if something’s wrong? I did that to her. Me! I’m her mother and I’ve already hurt her.”
Erica had tried being nice. Maybe it was time for a little tough love. “Stop whining. You heard the doctor when she was in here before. She said Bethany’s heart rate is strong and she’s not in any distress. There’s no reason to think there’s a problem, so let’s not create one. You’re in labor. Like it or not, you’re having that baby tonight if I have to dig in there myself and pull her out.”
Allison glared at her. “You’re not putting your hands anywhere near my girl parts.”
“It’s not like I want to, but one of us has to be the grown-up here and it sure as hell isn’t you.”
“What happened to compassion?”
