Chapter 43
Chapter Forty-Three
ELENA
You know how they say doctors make the worst patients?
Not. Wrong.
“I swear to fuck, Tori, if Masters doesn’t get in here with that epidural in the next sixty seconds, I will fucking riot.”
Ashford Medical Center was a small hospital. Everyone knew everyone—just like in Sable Point. Tori Poke, my OB/GYN, had also become a good friend. And James Masters? Her husband.
Stupid small towns and small hospitals.
“I don’t care what you need to do,” I snapped. “Tell him no more pie. Withhold sex. Whatever it takes.”
“Boy, you are dramatic, aren’t ya?”
“Excuse me?!”
“Elena, calm down. How much pain are you in?”
“None at the moment. But I don’t plan on being in any, either. These contractions are getting stronger, and you know how this goes—things can turn on a dime, and then it could be too—”
“Did someone order an epidural?”
Masters sauntered into the room, blissfully unaware of the tension that preceded him.
“You took too long. Tori’s withholding sex.”
“No, I’m not.”
“Traitor.”
“Baby.”
I stuck my tongue out at her. She returned the gesture.
“Alright, girls,” Masters said, setting down his tray. “Let’s cut the dramatics and get this show on the road. Tor, can you help Elena turn—”
“I’m here!” Chase burst into the room, sneakers squeaking on the linoleum. “Fuck, did I miss it—hooooly shit, that’s a big needle.”
Tori rolled her eyes. “Relax, Chase. It’s not going in you.”
“I mean—can I get a juice box first?” He fanned his face and took a wide step away from the epidural tray.
“Oh my god.” I groaned. “You’re about to watch a whole baby come out of my body and this is what gets you?”
“I wasn’t emotionally prepared for the industrial-size needle, okay?”
“Then maybe you should’ve stayed in the waiting room with the dads who peaked in high school.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Low blow, Sweetness. Very low.”
But the corners of his mouth twitched—because he loved it when I mouthed off, even while in active labor.
“Alright,” Masters interrupted. “Elena, we’re going to sit you up and get this done. Tori, help with positioning. Chase…” He looked up at him. “Maybe just sit over there and try not to pass out.”
Chase threw up a salute and backed into the corner, muttering something about betrayal and blood pressure.
I let Tori guide me to sitting, but halfway through the motion, it hit—a contraction. Hard. Sharp. The kind that makes your spine snap straight and your whole body lock up.
“Shit—okay, okay, okay—” I hissed through clenched teeth, eyes squeezing shut as the wave crested.
Tori rubbed my back. “Breathe through it. Deep breath in… slow breath out…”
Chase was suddenly at my side again, crouched low, panic written across every inch of his gorgeous face.
“Babe? Elena—what do you need?”
“Less noise,” I bit out. “Less talking. Less—your face.”
“Ouch,” he muttered. “She’s fine. This is the fire-breathing dragon part. We’re good.”
The contraction eased off just as quickly as it came, and I exhaled hard, pressing my forehead to the pillow clutched at my chest.
I let the silence stretch for a second then peeked up at Chase, who still looked like he might pass out. “You okay?” I asked, voice softer now.
He didn’t answer at first—just reached out to brush a damp strand of hair off my face. “You’re asking me if I’m okay?”
“You look like you’re about to puke.”
“I’m not gonna puke,” he muttered. “Just… you’re in pain. I hate that.”
“I’m about to be in a lot less pain, thanks to Masters and his harpoon.”
He huffed a laugh, but his eyes stayed locked on mine. Serious. Steady. A little glassy.
“I love you,” he whispered, and suddenly the room blurred out around us—just me and him and everything we’d survived to get to this exact second.
“I know,” I whispered back. “Now get out of the way so I can get this needle and nap before showtime.”
“Bossy.”
“You love that, too.”
“I really do.”
The contraction had eased, but my whole body stayed tense.
“Alright,” Masters said gently, “let’s get this in before the next one hits. Elena, I need you to sit up on the edge of the bed and round your back like a cat.”
I nodded, already moving. “I know.”
Tori helped swing my legs over the side of the bed, her hand steady on my arm. I shifted to the edge and curled forward, arms around my knees, chin to chest—just like I’d learned in med school and seen a hundred times during my OB rotation.
Knowing didn’t make it easier.
Didn’t make the fear go away.
Didn’t stop the twist in my gut at the thought of a catheter threaded between vertebrae into the epidural space.
“Lean forward just a little more,” Tori said. I’d been the one at the bedside so many times. This time, I was the one gripping the sheets.
Chase hovered close by, looking equal parts terrified and useless. “Can I…?” he asked, hands half-raised.
“Stand in front of me,” I said quickly, voice tighter than I meant. “Just—let me hold on.”
He was there in an instant, arms bracketing mine as I leaned into him. His shirt was soft and warm against my forehead.
“I got you,” he whispered. “Right here, Sweetness. Just breathe.”
The antiseptic smell hit first, cold and clinical. Then came the sting of the numbing shot. My shoulders flinched. The real pressure followed—deep, invasive, wrong in every way.
I clutched Chase’s forearms and held still.
“Almost there,” Masters murmured. “Just a little more…”
Chase kept whispering to me. Nonsense, mostly—pet names and praise and jokes that didn’t land—but I latched on to the sound of his voice, let it anchor me.
And then it was done.
“Catheter’s in place,” Masters said. “You can lie back.”
I eased down with Tori’s help, letting my head rest against the pillow, limbs buzzing with a mix of adrenaline and relief.
Chase wiped a tear from my cheek with his thumb. “You okay?”
I nodded. “Yeah. Just… I’ve seen that done a million times. It hits different when it’s you.”
Chase brushed my hair back and just looked at me for a beat—like he couldn’t believe I was real. “You’re doing so good, Elena. I’m so fucking proud of you.”
I squeezed his hand. “Stay close?”
“Anything you need.”