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His reply is immediate.
Asher:I love you, too. How are you feeling?
Me:Totally fine, but my friends are worried about the kicks I keep getting from the baby, so they’re taking me to get checked out.
I watch as Asher types out a reply.
Asher:…
Before it comes through, however, my phone starts to ring.
“Hi,” I answer a little weakly.
“What do you mean they’re making you get checked out?” he roars.
“We’re on our way to the doctor.”
“The doctor? Just a regular doctor?” he asks.
I clear my throat. “The hospital.”
“Are you really okay?” he demands.
“I don’t know,” I admit. “It might be contractions, so we’re getting me checked just to rule it out.”
“I’m on my way.”
“Asher, no, it’s fine. I’ll be fine. It’s just a sharp pain every nine min—”
“I’m on my way,” he hisses again, and then he cuts the call.
And somehow…I feel a big measure of relief that he’s coming.
I love my friends, and it’s great being here with them. But there’s nothing like the arms of Asher to make me feel safe, warm, and secure.
We arrive at the hospital before I get a chance to call my mom to let her know what’s going on. I’m sure it’s nothing—probably just Braxton Hicks like Chloe suggested, so there’s no need to worry her.
Except I’m not admitted into the emergency room, and instead I’m sent straight to labor and delivery.
A nurse attaches some belts around me to monitor the baby, and then she does a quick exam. “You’re four centimeters dilated and in active labor. How far along are you?”
“Thirty-five weeks.”
She nods. “Preterm,” she murmurs. “Ideally, we’d want the baby in there a little longer, but we’ll run some tests to make sure the baby isn’t in any distress. The doctor will be in shortly to discuss the best course of action. Is the father involved?”
I nod. “He’s on his way from Vegas. I’m in town visiting friends.”
“Those are the women who brought you in?” she asks.
“Yes.”
“They’re good friends.” She studies the screens that are monitoring the baby.
“The best. And Asher—the father—he told me not to travel, but I thought I’d be safe.” I feel tears welling behind my eyes. It’ll be at least a couple hours before Asher can get here. What if I have the baby before then? What if he misses it all because I had to visit my friends one more time? Why did I think this was a good idea?
I’m scared, and I’m alone. “Can they come back here?” I ask.
“Only one nonrelative at a time,” she says apologetically.
