“Babe,” he says with a cringe. “Are you sure? You specifically told me last week that even when you were begging for the drugs, not to give in.”
“Yeah, well I was stupid last week and didn’t realize what the fuck I was getting myself into.”
Noah helps me to roll onto my side and the second his arm comes around to spoon me, the pain slowly begins to fade. Maybe I can do this without drugs.
Noah begins slowly rubbing my back and it brings all sorts of comfort washing over me as I close my eyes and focus on slowly breathing in and out.
My phone chimes again and Noah reaches around my massive stomach to grab it. He pulls up a text message and shows me the screen.
Aria – Have you pushed yet?
I choke back a laugh. I’d love to sit here and entertain my little sister’s text message, but I simply don’t have the will. In fact, I haven’t responded to any of the thirty texts that have come through so far. I guess that’s what Noah is for.
As if reading my mind, Noah starts shooting off replies to all the unread texts and before I know it, Dr. Branson is pushing through the door with a welcoming smile.
“How are you feeling, Henley?” she asks, walking over and checking the monitors while pulling on a pair of gloves.
“I’m ready to get the show on the road,” I tell her.
Dr. Branson lets out a groan and shakes her head. She’s used to my bullshit by now. “I’ll be the judge of that,” she says before asking Noah to help me roll onto my back so she can take a look at the mess going on between my legs.
Her head emerges a few moments later. “Sorry to break the bad news, but you’re going to have to wait just a little while longer. You’re at eight centimeters so maybe another hour, possibly two.”
I’ve never felt so disappointed in my life.
Dr. Branson leaves with a promise to come and check on me in a little while and I somehow convince the midwife to let me take a cool shower.
I don’t know how it happened, but one minute, I’m standing under the cool spray of the shower with Noah standing fully clothed in the water, shivering while making sure I’m safe, and the next thing I know, nearly two hours have passed and Dr. Branson is insisting that I get my ass in bed and put my legs up in the stirrups.
From there on, time seems to blur. A towel is thrown around me, arms are sliding around my back, a midwife is doing something to my bed and clicking stirrups into place, while I begin freaking out over the torture I’m about to willingly endure.
What was I thinking? I should have taken the drugs when I had the chance.
Stupid Noah and his ability to make me forget my own damn name.
I’ll never forgive him for this.
Chapter 3
Noah
“No, no, no, no, no,” Henley says, standing before the bed and gaping at it as though it’s her personalized road to hell. She starts backing up, shaking her head in fear. “I can’t do this. What were we thinking? We can just adopt instead.”
“Sorry, Spitfire,” I say, trying to hide a grin. “It’s a little too late to back out now. You have no choice, but to push. All you have to do is get up on the bed, put your legs in the stirrups, and push.”
I’ve never seen such a terrifying glare. “If it sounds so fucking easy, then why don’t you get up on the fucking bed and tear your vagina in half?”
“Come on,” Dr. Branson says, patting the bed. “You’re ready to go. Your body knows what to do and right now, it’s telling you that it’s ready to push. What happened to the girl who was ready to get the show on the road less than two hours ago?”
“She died along with my willpower.”
I squeeze Henley’s hand. ”You’ve got this and to be honest, the sooner you get it over and done with, the sooner you’ll have your baby in your arms and the sooner the pain will go away. Like a Band-Aid, Spitfire. Let’s do this.”
She nods her head, but the fear behind her eyes is nearly enough to cripple me. I’d do anything to take her pain away. I hate that she’s going through this and there’s nothing I can do to help. I’ve never felt so fucking useless in my life.
I’m used to being the guy who swoops in and saves the fucking day, and saving Henley has always been my favorite thing to do, but in this very moment, all I can do is hold her hand and watch as she goes through this terrifying thing.
She’s going to be okay, though. I just know it. She has to be.