Chapter 34
Hadley
The pain hit like a freight train the second my water broke, sharp, unrelenting, wrapping around my middle and squeezing until I couldn’t breathe.
I doubled over in the doorway of the green room, one hand braced on the frame, the other clutching my belly as if I could hold the baby in by sheer will.
Warm fluid soaked my leggings, my shoes, the concrete floor beneath me.
Zariah’s arms were around me before I even registered her moving.
“Hadley, oh God, okay, okay, stay with me.” Her voice was steady even though her eyes were wide with panic. “We need to get you to the hospital. Now.”
Cal was already off the couch, Sydney stumbling back as he shoved past her. His face was a mask of horror and guilt, pupils still blown from whatever he’d taken. “Hadley, fuck, I’m sorry, I....”
“Don’t.” The word tore out of me, raw and ragged. I couldn’t even look at him. Not after what I’d just seen. Not with his hands still smelling like her. “Don’t touch me.”
He froze mid-step, hands outstretched like he didn’t know what to do with them.
Zariah tightened her grip on me. “We’re leaving. Jake!” she barked over her shoulder toward the hallway. “Get your ass in here!”
Jake appeared seconds later, Holland right behind him. Jake’s eyes went straight to the puddle on the floor, then to me. “Shit. Contractions?”
“Started in the car,” I gasped. Another one rolled through me, deeper this time, making my vision tunnel. I gripped Zariah’s arm so hard my nails dug in. “It’s happening fast.”
Cal took another step forward. “I’m coming with you.”
“No.” I shook my head, tears mixing with sweat on my cheeks. “You don’t get to be there. Not after...” My voice cracked. I couldn’t finish the sentence. The image of Sydney on his lap was burned behind my eyelids.
“Hadley, please,” he said hoarsely. “Let me....”
“I said no!” I shouted, the sound echoing down the hallway. The contraction peaked, stealing my breath, forcing me to bend forward. Zariah held me up.
Jake moved between us. “Cal, back off. She’s in labor. She gets to decide who’s in the room.”
Cal’s face crumpled. “She’s my wife. That’s my kid.”
“And you just had another woman on your lap five seconds ago,” Zariah snapped. “Move.”
Holland grabbed Cal’s arm gently but firmly. “Come on, man. Let them go. We’ll follow in the van.”
Cal jerked free, eyes locked on me. “Hadley, I’m sorry. I fucked up. I know I fucked up. But don’t shut me out. Not for this.”
I looked at him...really looked. The man I’d fought for, the man I’d loved through every numb silence and cruel word. And all I could see was Sydney’s laugh, his hands on her hips, the blissed-out glaze in his eyes while I stood there breaking.
“I can’t do this with you right now,” I whispered. “I can’t.”
Another contraction hit...harder, closer together. I cried out, knees buckling. Zariah and Jake caught me.
“Car,” Zariah ordered. “Now.”
Jake scooped under my other arm. “I’ve got you. Lean on me.”
They half-carried me down the hallway, past crew members who stared, past security who cleared the path. Cal followed at a distance, pleading under his breath.
“Hadley. Please...”
I didn’t answer. Couldn’t. The pain was too big.
We made it to Zariah’s rental SUV. Jake helped me into the back seat. I curled onto my side as best I could, breathing in short, sharp pants. Zariah slid behind the wheel. Jake took shotgun.
“Hospital’s twenty minutes if we floor it,” Jake said, already buckling in.
“Go,” I gasped.
Zariah peeled out of the lot. In the side mirror I saw Cal sprinting toward the band’s black van, Holland and the others piling in behind him. Kei was there too...face bruised from the fight, eyes haunted. He glanced at me once before climbing in.
The drive was a blur of red lights, horns, and contractions that came every four minutes now. I gripped the door handle; forehead pressed to the cool window.
“Talk to me,” Zariah said, glancing back every few seconds. “How bad?”
“Bad,” I managed. “Really bad.”
Jake twisted around. “You’re doing great. Just breathe. In through your nose, out through your mouth.”
“I can’t....” Another one hit. I moaned, low and animal. “It hurts so much.”
“I know, baby,” Zariah said softly. “I know. We’re almost there.”
My phone buzzed in my pocket...Cal’s name flashing. I ignored it. It buzzed again. And again.
Jake’s phone lit up too. He looked at the screen, then at me. “It’s him. He’s in the van behind us. Wants to know if you’re okay.”
“Tell him I’m alive,” I said through gritted teeth. “That’s all he gets.”
Jake typed quickly, then set the phone down. “Done.”
We hit the hospital emergency entrance like a storm. Jake jumped out first, yelling for help. Nurses rushed over with a wheelchair. Zariah parked crookedly and ran around to my side.
They got me inside fast, triage, questions I barely answered, monitors slapped on my belly. The baby’s heartbeat thumped strong through the speakers, fast, but steady.
“Thirty-seven weeks,” the nurse said, checking my chart. “You’re in active labor. We’re moving you to delivery.”
I nodded, teeth chattering. “Okay.”
They wheeled me down the hall. Zariah stayed glued to my side, holding my hand. Jake followed, phone in hand.
Cal and the band arrived minutes later. I heard them before I saw them. Raised voices in the hallway. Security telling them to calm down.
Zariah leaned close. “They’re here. You want me to tell them to wait outside?”
I swallowed. Another contraction was building. “No visitors. Just you.”
She nodded. “Got it.”
But Cal pushed through anyway.
He appeared in the doorway of the triage room, hair wild, eyes red. “Hadley....”
The nurse blocked him. “Sir, family only right now.”
“I’m the father.”
I turned my head away. “I don’t want him in here.”
Cal’s voice cracked. “Please. Let me see you. Let me...”
“No.” Tears spilled again. “You lost that right when you let her touch you.”
He made a broken sound. “I didn’t.... I wasn’t thinking. I was high. I was fucked up. I’m so sorry.”
The contraction hit full force. I cried out, curling in on myself. Zariah squeezed my hand harder.
“Out,” she told him. “Now.”
Security appeared, two big guys. “Sir, step back.”
Cal resisted for a second, then let them guide him away. I heard him in the hall: “That’s my wife! That’s my kid!”
Jake stepped into the doorway. “Cal, come on. Give her space.”
“I can’t just sit out here...”
“You have to,” Jake said quietly. “She asked.”
I didn’t hear the rest. They wheeled me into the delivery room. Bright lights. Beeping monitors. A doctor in scrubs introducing herself, Dr. Ellis. She checked me quickly.
“Eight centimeters,” she said. “You’re moving fast. We might not have time for an epidural if you want one.”
“I don’t care,” I panted. “Just get him out safe.”
Zariah stayed by my head, wiping sweat from my forehead with a cool cloth. “You’re so strong. You’ve got this.”
The contractions were relentless now, no break, just wave after wave. I screamed through them, gripping the bed rails until my knuckles bleached white.
“I can’t do this,” I sobbed between pushes. “It hurts too much.”
“You can,” Zariah said fiercely. “You’re almost there.”
Dr. Ellis coached me. “One more big push on the next one. Head’s right there.”
I bore down with everything I had, screaming, crying, shaking. Pressure built, unbearable, then released in a rush.
“Shoulders!” Dr. Patel called. “One more!”
I pushed again.
And then, a slippery, warm weight between my legs. A cry, sharp, indignant, alive.
“Boy,” Dr. Ellis announced, lifting him up. “Healthy little boy.”
They placed him on my chest, warm, slippery, perfect. Tiny fists waving, face scrunched and red. Dark hair plastered to his scalp. He cried louder, then quieter as he felt my skin.
I stared down at him, tears streaming. “Hi, baby,” I whispered. “Hi, sweetheart.”
Zariah was crying too, laughing through it. “He’s beautiful, Hads. Look at him.”
I counted fingers, toes. Ten of each. He had Cal’s nose, small, slightly upturned. My lips. A perfect mix.
They took him for a quick check, Apgar scores, weight. Eight pounds, two ounces. Twenty-one inches. Perfect.
I held him again, skin to skin under a warm blanket. He latched almost immediately, tiny mouth working. I watched him nurse, chest aching with something bigger than pain.
Zariah kissed my forehead. “You did it. You’re a mom.”
I nodded, exhausted, euphoric, heartbroken all at once.
A soft knock at the door.
Jake poked his head in. “They’re all out here. Cal’s… losing it. Pacing. Crying. Asking every two minutes if he can see you.”
I looked down at the baby, our son, sleeping against my chest now, tiny breaths puffing against my skin.
I swallowed hard. “Tell him… he can come in. But only him. And only for a minute.”
Jake nodded and disappeared.
Seconds later the door opened again.
Cal stepped in slowly, like he was afraid the room might collapse if he moved too fast. His eyes were swollen, face streaked with tears. He stopped at the foot of the bed, staring at the tiny bundle on my chest.
“Is that…?”
“Boy,” I said quietly. “Your son.”
Cal’s breath hitched. He took one step closer, then another. “Can I…?”
I nodded once.
He came around the side of the bed, sank into the chair beside me. His hands shook as he reached out, hesitant, reverent. I shifted the baby so Cal could see his face.
Cal touched one tiny hand with his fingertip. The baby flexed his fingers, wrapping them around Cal’s.
“Oh God,” Cal whispered, voice breaking. “He’s perfect.”
I didn’t answer. Just watched.
Cal looked at me then, really looked. “I don’t deserve this. I know I don’t. But thank you. For him. For letting me see him.”
Tears slipped down my cheeks again. “He needs a name.”
Cal swallowed. “What do you want?”
I looked down at the baby, peaceful, innocent, untouched by all our mess. “Asher,” I said softly. “Asher Jackson Parker.”
Cal nodded, tears falling freely now. “Asher.”
We sat in silence for a long minute, just the three of us. The beeping monitors, Asher’s soft breaths, Cal’s quiet sobs.
Then I spoke, voice steady despite everything.
“You can hold him. But then you need to go.”
Cal looked like I’d slapped him, but he nodded. “Okay.”
I lifted Asher carefully, placed him in Cal’s arms.
Cal cradled him like he was made of glass. “Hey, little man,” he whispered. “I’m your dad. I’m gonna try so hard to be better for you.”
Asher stirred, blinked sleepy eyes up at him.
Cal pressed a trembling kiss to his forehead. “I love you,” he said, to Asher, to me, to both of us. “I love you so much.”
Then he handed him back, gently, carefully, and stood.
“I’ll be outside,” he said hoarsely. “Whenever you’re ready.”
He walked out.
The door clicked shut.
I held Asher close, breathing him in, new baby smell, milk, life.
Zariah squeezed my shoulder. “What now?”
I looked at the door Cal had just walked through.
“I don’t know,” I whispered. “But we’re going to figure it out.”
One breath at a time.