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“Your water just broke.” I fold my hand over hers, both of us staring down at her bump. “It’s time to meet our girl.”
46
ARSEN
Within five minutes, the house is in an uproar.
I called Polina, who passed the news to Dominik and Gedeon. Someone woke Evelyn up, and now, she’s off to find Marie.
Laila is panting at my side—I’m not sure if it’s in panic or pain—but the second her mom walks into the room, she sobs.
“Mom!”
In an instant, Marie transforms from a weak, sick woman into a mother whose daughter needs her. She releases her hold on Evelyn’s arm and grabs Laila, pulling her close.
“How are you feeling, sweetheart?”
“Scared,” Laila admits. “Will you come with me?”
“Of course,” Marie swears. But she makes eye contact with me over Laila’s shoulder, her gaze questioning.
I nod. There’s no way I’m gonna let Laila go through this without her mother at her side.
“I packed a bag.” Polina flings it at Gedeon as Dominik hangs up the phone.
“I’ve just informed the hospital. They’re readying a private suite for you.”
It’s a mad dash out to the car. I sit in the back, Laila wedged between me and Marie, holding each of our hands. Every couple minutes, her grip tightens until even I’m wincing against the pain.
“Contractions suck,” she announces. “Just in case anyone was wondering.”
Thankfully, the streets are empty at this time of night, and we make it to the hospital in no time. Three nurses and a wheelchair are waiting outside when we pull up. I carry Laila out of the car despite her protests and place her in the wheelchair.
When the sturdy male nurse moves to wheel her inside, I shake my head. “I’ve got her.”
He backs off, arms raised.Smart man.“This way, sir.”
I follow his lead, wheeling her into the hospital, onto an elevator, and down the hall of the maternity ward. I look around, reminding myself this is real. Less than half an hour ago, we were in our bedroom. Now, we’re crammed into a delivery room.
“You’re doing such a great job, honey.” Marie massages Laila’s shoulders and grins at me. “Both of you.”
Laila doesn’t bother answering. Her contractions have been coming faster and faster. Sweat beads on her forehead. Marie stands guard behind her daughter, supporting her belly and massaging her back through the pain.
All I can do is watch.
Laila slaps her hand against the plastic bed railing she’s leaning on. Her face is creased in pain. “It hurts.”
“I know it does. Nothing hurts worse—and nothing is more worth it. Just breathe through the pain.”
Breathe through the pain.Out of everything in this alien experience, that part is familiar to me. I’ve spent my whole life breathing through the pain. Even now, my mind floats back to how it felt for the skin of my ribs to be sliced open by a hand-sharpened shiv when my back was turned in the jail showers.
I know all too well how to breathe through the pain.
What I never truly mastered was watching the people I love deal with theirs.
And as I watch Laila cry out in agony I can do nothing to stop, I realize I’ve never cared about anything or anyone as much as I care about her.
“Arsen…”
