Chapter 8
EIGHT
VIOLET
OVER NINE YEARS AGO
The pain came in waves, stealing the air from my lungs and leaving me gasping, fingers clawing at the sheets.
“Sophie…” I cried, sweat dripping into my eyes. “I can’t… do… this.”
My voice cracked as another contraction tore through me, sharp and merciless.
A raw scream ripped out of my chest before I could stop it.
It echoed off the walls of Sophie’s condo, and before another tore from my throat, I bit into my hand to smother the sound, focusing on a different pain.
This had to stay a secret; if I kept screaming, someone would come.
“Breathe, Violet,” Sophie urged, her voice steady even though she looked white as a sheet. “Breathe.”
I tried to listen. I really did. But the agony made it impossible.
Sophie was right there with me, close enough that I could feel her warmth, hear every controlled breath she took as if she were trying to lend me her calm. But even with her beside me, I had never felt more alone.
I wanted my mom. I wanted her hand in mine, her voice telling me it would be okay, that I was safe, that I wasn’t doing this wrong.
I’d always imagined my mom would be here with me for such a big life event, yet I’d been robbed of it and that made me so damn sad. It made me want to bawl my eyes out.
I’d kept my pregnancy a secret for the past nine months. Frankly, it wasn’t even hard since I’d already had no contact with my parents.
Sophie had been it for me. She’d been the only one by my side, applying her knowledge from her studies and residency on me. Honestly, it was pathetic and sad how easy it was to hide this pregnancy from the world. It just showed there was nobody in this world who cared about me at all.
The thought made my next contraction feel unbearable.
She wasn’t here. She would never be here for me.
My father had abandoned me long before we buried Lily. He promised to give me a taste of his loss. An eye for an eye, he’d said. He’d lost Lily, so I would lose any children I dared to have. A promise he intended to keep.
Another contraction built and I cried out, the sound muffled by my hand while Sophie’s grip on me tightened.
“Nobody can know—” My voice broke. “Nobody—”
“I know,” Sophie promised, cupping my cheek and holding my gaze.
My father didn’t make empty threats. His words, spoken to me ten years ago, were a vow. My childhood around him and my mom’s constant fear and flinching around him were proof of that.
That was why I was here and not in a hospital. That was why I kept my pregnancy a secret.
“You’re doing good,” Sophie said firmly, brushing damp hair from my face. “Forget everything and focus on pushing. You’re safe here, okay?”
I sucked in a breath as the contraction finally eased, my whole body trembling from the effort of enduring it.
“I didn’t want my baby to come into the world like this,” I whispered, tears spilling down my cheeks and into my ears.
Sophie’s expression softened.
“I know, but we’ll fight for your baby,” she said quietly. “We’ll figure out what we need to do. I will help. My cousin will help.”
I let out a shaky breath, one hand instinctively moving to my stomach as if I could shield her even now. There was only one person who could protect her, and he was an ocean away.
Another pang hit, and I tightened my grip on Sophie’s hand again, bracing myself.
“I’m scared,” I admitted, my voice barely audible.
Sophie squeezed back. “I know. But you’re not alone in this.”
God, I wanted to believe her. But as the pain surged again and I cried out into the pillow, I could only think of my beautiful sister and how much I wished she were here.
“Good… you’re doing so good,” she said, steady but soft, the way she had been all night. “You’re doing it. Breathe with me. In… and out… slow.”
I tried, and no sooner another contraction crashed through me. My body curled in on itself while my insides felt like they were splitting apart.
“I didn’t think it would hurt this much,” I whispered when it passed, my throat raw. She pulled her hand out of my grip, massaging it. “I’m sorry—”
“Don’t apologize,” she said quickly. “Squeeze as hard as you need.”
Minutes stretched into what felt like eternity. Pain, breath, Sophie’s voice. Pain, breath, Sophie’s voice.
“You’re close now,” she told me at some point, brushing damp hair from my forehead. “I need you to listen to me, okay? When I tell you to push… you push.”
I nodded, every fiber of me shaking.
“Okay,” Sophie said, her tone shifting into that of a future doctor. She had begun her residency and had delivered a few babies at Georgetown, and although she wasn’t very experienced, I trusted her with this. “Now… push.”
I bit into my hand again, bearing down with everything I had. It felt wrong, impossible, like my body was being torn open.
“Good, Violet. Very good… Now… again!”
I sobbed as I did it again, limbs trembling with the effort.
“I can see the head,” Sophie said suddenly, her voice laced with awe. “Almost here.”
“I can’t anymore.”
“Yes, you can,” Sophie urged. “You’re doing amazing. One more big push, okay? One more.”
“No,” I whimpered. “I need medicine. I can’t—”
“I know,” she whispered, her eyes soft on me. “I know. But right now, you just have to bring this baby into this world safely. That’s all that matters.”
I knew I had no choice. I pushed, cried out, every part of me straining. Then suddenly, the pressure eased and I felt lighter.
There was a heartbeat of silence, immediately followed by a baby’s cry.
My breath caught.
“Oh my God,” Sophie murmured, her voice trembling now. “It’s a girl. Violet, she’s here. You did it.”
I collapsed back against the makeshift bed on the floor, pillows surrounding me while I sobbed into one.
“Is she… okay?”
“She’s perfect,” Sophie said, tears straining her cheeks as she worked to wrap my baby girl into blankets we’d set aside earlier. “She’s healthy. You did it.”
The crying continued, and it was the most beautiful sound I had ever heard.
“Could I…” I trailed off, aware of how impossibly hard my next steps would be.
“Of course.”
There was a brief flurry of movement, and then Sophie placed her against my chest and I gasped, seeing her for the first time.
“She’s so tiny,” I rasped, holding her tenderly. My heart soared for this bundle of life I’d grown these past nine months. Her skin was flushed, her eyes squeezed shut, her little mouth open as she mewled softly. I put my finger into her small palm and her hand curled around it.
A broken sound escaped my throat.
“Hi,” I whispered, my voice shaking from the chattering of my teeth. “You’re so perfect.”
She quieted.
“Keep talking to her,” Sophie encouraged. “I think she likes your voice.”
“I’m your mom,” I said, the words shattering me. “And I love you so much.”
Tears fell onto her soft skin, and I quickly brushed them away, like I could protect her from even that.
“She’s beautiful,” Sophie murmured, hugging us both.
“She is,” I said, the grief already overwhelming.
I traced her tiny cheek with my fingertip, memorizing everything about her. The shape of her nose, the softness of her skin, how right she felt in my hold.
“I have to protect you,” I went on, tears blurring my vision. “In another life, I would watch you grow up, hold you when you were sad or hurt. In another life, we would be happy and together, but—”
I collapsed into sobs. It felt like I was digging my own grave just voicing it.
“You deserve everything, my little Aria, and I’ll love you forever,” I whispered against my daughter’s head. “In another life, we’d have a happy ending.”
I closed my eyes, holding her as tightly as I could, trying to burn that moment into my memory.
She would be mine for two weeks.