Page 105 of Breakaway Daddies

I glare at her. “I feel like I’m dying, Nina.”

She smiles. “That’s usually a good sign at this stage.”

“Why do you people always say that like it’s comforting?” I groan.

“Because it means you’re closer to the part where you get to hold your babies.” She gestures toward Ally. “You’re lucky to have a friend like this by your side. And your…” she glances toward the guys with a curious but amused look, “entourage.”

Rowan crouches beside me, brushing my hair back from my sweaty forehead. “You need anything?”

“A different pelvis,” I grit out. “Preferably one that isn’t trying to break in half.”

He chuckles, but it’s tight around the edges. “I’d trade you if I could.”

“I know you would,” I murmur. “But I got this.”

Thomas crouches next to him. “Hey, uh… not to interrupt your water goblin moment—your words, not mine—but just let us know when to do something. We’re… here.”

I look around at them, all three of them, sweaty and nervous and helpless in their own different ways, and despite the agony ripping through my insides, I feel… okay. Supported. Surrounded.Loved.

I smile at them. Or try to. I think it comes out more like a grimace. “I’m glad you guys are here.”

“We wouldn’t be anywhere else,” Rowan says, his voice thick.

Another contraction hits, and I double forward, letting loose a guttural sound that surprises evenme. Ally talks me through it, counting slow, steady breaths, and when it finally passes, I slump back against the side of the tub.

“That one felt different,” I whisper.

Ally nods. “We’re getting close.”

My heart races. Not from fear, exactly, but from the weight of it. I’m about to meet these tiny humans I’ve been growing.

The little kicks and flutters and late-night hiccups are about to becomereal, and I feel like I’m standing on the edge of a cliff with a storm in my chest and wings on my back.

“You’re going to do this,” Ally says, looking me dead in the eyes. “You’re strong. You’re ready.”

I glance over at the boys, and they’re all watching me like I hung the stars. My chaotic, hockey-playing, ridiculous men. My family.

I take a deep breath, grit my teeth through another wave, and nod.

“Let’s do this thing.”

And I mean it.

The next contraction passes, leaving me panting and clutching the edge of the tub like it wronged me personally. My arms are shaking, but I’m still in it. Still here.

Ally dabs my forehead gently and glances toward the guys, who are trying their absolute best to stay calm—which, for them, mostly means hovering like anxious golden retrievers on espresso.

“They’re sweet,” Nina says with a little smile. “If abithyper.”

I let out a wheezy laugh, one that’s part exhaustion, part amusement. “You’re being generous.”

I turn my head toward where Thomas is fiddling with the Bluetooth speaker, trying to find a more “inspirational” playlist, and Bruno is folding and refolding towels like he’s got a side hustle as a hotel maid.

I roll my eyes and groan. “These babies have been doing backflips in my uterus for weeks. I haven’t slept in three. I’m telling you, there’s no chance these kids aren’t hyperactive like their father… or, you know,fathers.”

Ally chuckles and hands me a bottle of water. “You might have your hands full.”

“‘Might’ is optimistic,” I mutter, then eye the boys again. “I’m having gremlins raised by three hockey players. They’re gonna be climbing the walls by age two.”

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