Chapter Twenty-Five
Presley
March
"I’m as big as a house," I groan, rubbing my ever-growing stomach.
I still remember the day I went to the doctor for stomach pains, only to find out I was carrying a whole damn baby. It feels like it happened just yesterday. I was in denial for months.
"There’s no way I’m pregnant! I still have my period!" I screamed at the doctor, who literally flinched.
He explained it wasn’t common, but it could happen. A tiny percentage of women continue bleeding throughout pregnancy.Of course, I had to be part of that small fucking percent.Story of my life.
"Yeah, you are," Agatha laughs, rubbing my stomach. "And I still can't believe you haven’t told your parents. The fact you’ve hidden it this long? Mind-blowing."
"Baggy clothes and wearing my hair down to hide my balloon face does wonders," I say. "It’s been hard, though. Especially dealing with those hatin’ bitches at school."
"Yeah, but luckily you had me to throw hands when you couldn't," she giggles.
"Girl, please. I’ll still fight a hoe that’s feelin' froggy," I grin, just as a sharp pain stabs through my side. "Ow!"
"What? Baby kicking?"
"No... and honestly, I haven't been keeping up with kick counts lately," I admit. "I guess with all the stress of hiding it, it just slipped my mind."
"Maybe this is his way of saying he's ready to come out," she jokes.
I roll my eyes. "Highly doubt it. I’m not due for a few more days." Another wave of pain hits, stealing my breath. "Shit," I gasp, clutching my side.
"Presley, what if you're in labor? You're not old enough to just roll in and pop out a baby on your own. How have you even been seeing a doctor without your parents knowing?"
"Medicaid. I applied for the pregnancy coverage. I might've... forged their signatures to speed things up." I shrug. "Minor detail."
"Yeah, well, you're still gonna need them when the baby comes."
"Will I?" I mutter, half to myself. I hadn’t done a ton of research, but if I go through the ER, they’re supposed to wait until after delivery to call my parents.At least, that’s the plan.
"So where are you planning to go when it’s go-time?"
"Straight to the ER. And you're driving." I smirk, rubbing my stomach as another pain grips me. "God, this hurts."
"Were you dilated at your last appointment?"
"Two centimeters," I say proudly, even though the thought of being somebody's mother still feels surreal.
Rygaard hasn’t crossed my mind much since I found out.
Dr. Jennings at urgent care sent me for an ultrasound because they couldn’t get a timeline thanks to my stupid period.Turns out, I was already three and a half months along.Far enough to find out the sex.
And when I did?I cried like a baby myself.
Tears of joy. Fear. Excitement. Terror. I had no clue how to be a mom, but I was damn sure going to learn.
I made this baby, and I was going to raise him.
I’m lost in thought when I feel a trickle of water down my leg. "Shit, I need to pee," I mumble, trying to sit up. "Help me up."
Agatha scrambles over, slipping her hands under my arms. Together, we hoist my giant belly off the bed. But the second I stand straight, gush. Water pours down my legs, pooling at my feet.
"Agatha," I whisper, panicked, grabbing her hand as another contraction hits like a freight train. "It’s time."
"Okay, okay, come on! We’ll get you to my car, unless you want an ambulance?"
"No ambulance! I can’t afford that," I cry. "Just the ER." I waddle to my closet, grab my already-packed hospital bag, and pray I don’t collapse.
"Okay, I’ll pull the car around," Agatha says, practically flying down the stairs.
God, I wish Ry were here.But he's not. So man up, Prez. No time for a breakdown.
The contractions are getting stronger, closer. I waddle out the door just as Agatha’s tires squeal into the driveway. "Your chariot awaits, milady!" she grins.
Even through the pain, she makes me smile. "Thanks, Ag." She helps me into the car, and we’re off.
At the hospital…
Agatha throws her car into park right at the ER entrance, jumps out, and starts shouting. "Help! My friend’s in labor! We need a wheelchair, stat!" I burst into giggles, even while another contraction hits.
A nurse in midnight-blue scrubs rushes out. "How far apart are the contractions?" she asks, helping me into the chair.
"Two, maybe three minutes," I grit out. "Two centimeters dilated. Water broke."
"Alright, let’s get you inside," she says briskly. "Where are your parents?"
"At work," I lie, though technically it’s half true.
"We’ll need to contact them after delivery," she says, eyeing me skeptically as she wheels me inside.
"Wait!" I cry as they start to roll me away. "I need Agatha!"
"I’m here!" she calls, running up breathless. "Had to move the car, but I’m not going anywhere."
An hour later…
"Push!" Krista, the nurse practitioner, shouts.
Agatha squeezes my hand so hard it’s almost numb. "You’ve got this, babe! Push my nephew outta there!" I bear down, screaming, shaking, feeling like my body is ripping apart.
"I can see his head!" Krista says. "You’re doing amazing. One more big push, okay?" Tears flood my face. I nod.
"You’re almost there! I’m so proud of you!" Agatha cheers.
"PUSH!"
I give it everything. Everything I have left. And then, relief.
"He's out!" Krista cries.
"I did it!" I sob. "Where's my baby? Where is he?"
But...It’s silent.
Too silent.
I lift my head, panic rising. Krista and the nurses are working fast, moving too quickly, shouting things I don’t understand.
"Come on, breathe, baby!"
"What’s wrong? What’s wrong with my baby?!" I scream. Agatha looks just as terrified.
Seconds stretch into agonizing hours. And then Krista’s face crumbles. "I’m so sorry," she says, voice breaking. "He was stillborn. We tried everything, but he was already gone."
"No," I whisper. "No. No. No!" I scream, fighting to sit up.
"Babe, you can’t! You’re still open down there!" Agatha cries, trying to hold me down.
"I don't care! I want my baby!"
The nurses try to stop me. "She needs sedation." "She’ll hemorrhage if we don't get her stitched."
"DON'T TOUCH ME!" I roar, slapping hands away.
Finally, Krista approaches, cradling a tiny bundle in a soft blue blanket. She places him in my arms.
I peel back the blanket and see his tiny face, so beautiful, so perfect, but blue, lifeless.
Gone.
"Oh, God," I choke out, pressing his cold cheeks against mine. "Not my baby. Please, please come back."
Agatha wraps her arms around me, crying into my hair. "He’s beautiful. My sweet angel nephew."
I unwrap the blanket further, memorizing every inch of him. Every perfect, precious inch. "You were so perfect," I whisper through broken sobs, holding him to my chest.
"Even though you didn’t get the chance to live... you’ll always be my perfect, little, angel baby."
And then…
Darkness.