CHAPTER 12
Elena
It started with sudden contractions, slow at first, then coming closer and sharper. The last time I felt something like this, it turned out to be nothing more than a Braxton Hicks. I had made Adrian rush home like a madman, only for us to realize it was a false alarm.
So this time, I waited. I wanted to be certain before calling him.
I had already taken a week off from work. Adrian actually wanted me to take two weeks before the due date, but I refused. The thought of staying home alone with nothing to do only made my mind wander to places it didn’t need to go.
When the contractions began to sting a little more, I grabbed my phone and dialed his number. Thankfully, it didn’t take long for him to answer.
“I think it’s time,” I said, my breath uneven.
“What?” he said. “Are you going into labor already?”
“Yeah,” I replied. “I timed it with the app. They’re still about ten minutes apart, but they’re getting stronger.” I drew in a deep breath. “It isn’t like last time. I’m sure the baby’s coming.” I said, panic creeping into my voice.
“Alright. Alright. Okay, honey.” His voice wavered with rising adrenaline. “Just hang on for me, alright? I’m coming home now.” His words were gentle but rushed. “Please stay calm for me, baby. You’ve got this,” he added, sounding more like he was trying to convince himself than me.
When the call ended, I paced slowly around the living room, occasionally sitting on the birth ball and rocking gently, trying to ease the tightening in my abdomen. Every minute waiting for him felt like an hour.
Then my phone rang again.
“I’m already on my way,” he said, breath rushed, though he was clearly trying to keep his voice steady. “Stay with me, sweetheart. Don’t hang up. I want to know you’re okay.”
“Okay. I’m fine. Just—drive safely, please. Ouch—” A sharper contraction cut through my words.
“Elena? Baby? What was that?” His voice spiked, tight with panic.
“It’s okay... just another contraction.” I pulled in a long, shaky breath, trying to steady myself.
“Breathe in, breathe out... baby, just like we practiced,” he murmured through the speaker, his voice low but trembling at the edges.
But the pain kept tightening, sharper and deeper, curling into my spine. My knees buckled, and I sank onto the floor, clutching my stomach.
“God—Adrian, it’s getting worse!” I cried out, the words breaking as another contraction tore through me.
“Baby, I know, I know. Just hold on for me.” His breath hitched, panic bleeding into every word despite his efforts to sound steady. “I’m almost there, sweetheart. Almost home. Breathe in, breathe out. You’ve got this, baby... please, just hold on.”
I had no idea how long passed after that—seconds, minutes, maybe longer—until I finally heard the familiar sound of Adrian’s car screeching into the driveway.
The front door burst open a heartbeat later.
“Elena!” He rushed inside, eyes wide, chest heaving as he spotted me sitting on the floor, doubled over. He immediately crouched beside me. “Alright, baby, let’s go. We’re going to the hospital.” His hands were gentle but trembling as he helped me up.
“Wait—” I hissed as another contraction built. “The bag.”
“What bag?” Adrian blinked at me, completely lost in the haze of panic.
I glared at him through clenched teeth. “GOD! The hospital bag, Adrian!”
“Oh—right. Got it!” He guided me to the couch with exaggerated care, easing me down like I might break, then sprinted upstairs. I heard drawers sliding, a door banging, and a muttered curse before he came thundering back down with the bag in hand, looking far too proud of himself for finding it.
“Okay. Okay. I’ve got it, baby.” He slung the bag over his shoulder, helped me to my feet again, and half-supported, half-carried me toward the car.
The drive felt both too long and too fast, Adrian gripping the wheel so tight his knuckles turned white.
He kept glancing at me every three seconds like he was worried I’d disappear.
When we finally arrived at the hospital and got checked in, a nurse ushered us into the triage room.
After the exam, she looked up with a calm smile that made me want to scream.
“You’re at two centimeters, sweetheart. Still early labor.”
Adrian blinked. “Two? That’s it?” His voice cracked between disbelief and outrage. “Did you see her? She can barely walk!”
The doctor stepped in, hands lifted in a soothing gesture. “This is very normal for a first pregnancy. Early labor can last a while. We usually don’t admit until four to six centimeters, unless there’s complication. You can go home, rest, eat something light, maybe take a warm shower.”
Adrian looked ready to argue again, but I touched his arm.
“It’s okay,” I whispered, exhausted. “Let’s just go home for now.”
He let out a long, frustrated breath but nodded. Then he squeezed my hand gently, helping me off the bed with far more tenderness than he showed anyone else.
“Alright, baby,” he murmured, voice soft again.
— ? —
Adrian
I stood uselessly beside the bed, hands shaking, heart pounding so hard it hurt.
“We’re going to break your water now, Elena,” The doctor said, calm but focused.
But the only thing I really heard was Elena’s breath hitching, right before the warm gush spilled.
“Oh God—oh my God,” Elena whimpered, fingers clawing at the bedsheets.
The doctor glanced up, voice steady. “I need a hemorrhage kit on standby and a baby nurse,” she instructed.
“Elena, listen to me,” she said, leaning forward. “When the next contraction comes, blow that one out... and then give me a big push.
“Okay,” she nodded weakly.
Then she leaned back, eyes squeezed shut, her breaths shallow and uneven. I reached for her hand and laced my fingers with hers, holding on tight.
“You’ve got this,” I said quietly.
Another contraction came, she screamed through it. Her fingers crushing mine, her whole body trembling as she pushed with everything she had left. All I could do was hold her hand and pray... pray like a man who had no right to ask God for anything, not after the things I’d done.
But I prayed anyway.
“Elena, come on, harder—one more time!”
“One... two... three... four... five... six—good! That’s it, nice.”
“I can’t—” she sobbed. “I can’t, it’s burning, oh God—!”
The doctor nodded, unfazed. “I know, sweetheart. That’s the ring of fire. Breathe. You’ve got it.”
“Baby, breathe—” My voice cracked.
“All right, Elena, big push, harder than before!”
She pushed. God, she pushed so hard her whole face changed. Her scream tore straight through me. I held her hand because that was all I could do, even when I felt like I was sinking right along with her.
“Baby, you’re okay,” I whispered, kissing her knuckles, my voice barely steady. “You’re doing so good.”
The doctor leaned forward. “Elena, your baby is right there. One more big push.”
Elena sobbed, shaking her head. “I can’t... Doc, I can’t.”
“Yes, you can.” My forehead pressed against hers. “You’re the strongest person I’ve ever known. Come on, baby. For our little girl. For us.”
Another contraction hit.
She screamed, pushed—
And then suddenly—
My breath stopped.
I didn’t move. I couldn’t.
The nurse lifted her up.
My little girl.
And I broke.
Tears hit my face before I even noticed them.
I wiped them away instinctively, embarrassed and overwhelmed, then I laughed because I couldn’t stop it.
It felt like something inside me cracked wide open, something old and heavy and guilty, and out of it poured a love so fierce it nearly brought me to my knees.
“Adrian...” Elena whispered, exhausted, barely conscious.
“Elena...” I leaned down and kissed Elena’s forehead, again and again, because I didn’t know what else to do with the way my heart was exploding. “I’m so proud of you, baby. I love you. I love you so much. Thank you. Thank you, Elena.”
Our daughter cried as the nurse gently placed her on Elena’s chest. I stared at our baby. She was so tiny, so impossibly perfect, it made my chest ache.
After a moment, the nurse lifted her again. “Alright,” she said gently. “Let’s get her cleaned up and dressed.”
I stepped aside, watching with a tight chest as they wiped her down, wrapped her in a soft blanket, and fitted a tiny hat over her damp curls. My hands felt useless at my sides, trembling just enough for me to notice.
When the nurse turned back to me, she smiled. “Do you want to hold her?”
My breath stilled.
I nodded once and she placed my daughter in my arms with the kind of care people used when handing someone a piece of their soul.
She fit against me so easily, so naturally, like she had always belonged there. Her warmth seeped straight into my bones. My arms tightened instinctively, protective and terrified all at once.
“Hey, Haille...” I whispered, my voice breaking before I could stop it.
Her little face scrunched, her mouth opened in a tiny cry, and something inside me cracked wide open.
“It’s me...” My throat trembled, emotion hitting me harder than any pain I’d ever known.
“Your dad.”