Page 91 of Never Really Mine
Barely eight minutes later, another one starts. Beau coaches me through it, starting the timer when I tell him to, and letting me squeeze his hand. It feels different. This feels like it could be real, like I could actually be in labor.
Once it’s done, Beau enters it into his phone. “Should we call the nurses? Check in?”
“I’ve had two contractions, Beau. We need to give it a little longer.”
“How much longer?” he nearly pouts. “I don’t like this. Seeing you in pain is hurting me.”
“You’re in for a long ride then, sweetie,” I say, my voice thick with condescension. “Sorry, that was mean.”
He only laughs softly. “Butterfly, that wasn’t mean. You’re in pain. I’m in pain, watching you in pain. Say whatever you need to say, and I’ll be here for you the whole time.”
“Fuck you,Beau Cunningham and your magical sperm!” I shout.
Yeah, I’mreallyin labor, and thisreallyfucking hurts.
“I know, love, I’m sorry,” Beau says as he drives us toward the birth center.
My contractions have been strong and steady for two hours now, getting closer together with each one. We called the nurses to let them know we were heading in, and they told us they would be ready.
I’m probably going to lose a few teeth with how hard I’ve been clenching my jaw, but I couldn’t care less right now. All I know is that I’m in pain.
Another contraction rips through me as we whip into the parking lot of the birth center. Beau turns the car off, grabs the bags out of the backseat and practically runs to my side of the car. When the contraction finishes, he helps me out and then attempts to rush me inside. I can only waddle so fast, especially when it feels like there is a baby trying to press down on my bladder.
We make it inside and I see the familiar face of the receptionist there to greet us. When she sees me gripping Beau’shand hard enough to cut off his blood supply, she bolts into action, running to get me a wheelchair.
“Here, sit down,” she offers, and I gratefully take it. Beau tries to subtly shake out his hand, and I smack him in the stomach.
“Sorry,” he says with a wince. “Just getting the blood moving, that’s all.” He switches the bag to his other shoulder, offering me his other hand.
I take it with a glare. He better not pass out on me or he is going to have hell to pay. The woman pushes us down the hall, leading us toward the delivery unit rather than the clinic side. When the locked unit opens, the nurse we’ve come to be well acquainted with greets us at the door.
“Ready to have some babies?” Peyton says with a smile. Her short blonde hair is half up in a bun on top of her head, and the pearl necklace she always wears glitters on the gold chain.
I glower at her. She doesn’t react though, only smiles back at me, stepping behind me to push the wheelchair down the hall. Beau keeps in step with us, my hand still gripping his. Peyton turns into a room right off the nurses station, and it’s like all of the emotion and reality of this situation hits me.
In the far corner, there are two baby warmers with stacks of baby blankets and other tools ready for us. A cart is next to it, topped with a blue covering. The bed is turned down, with a hospital gown laying on top of the sheets, and an IV pole sits next to the bed, ready to be used.
A burst of anxiety hits me and I sink into the wheelchair. Peyton starts to rattle off instructions, but I don’t hear anything. Because I’m about to lose it. She leaves the room after rubbing my shoulder gently, leaving Beau and I alone.
My breaths start to come in rapid succession, the reality of this hitting me hard. “We should go home,” I say withoutthinking. “I’m probably not in labor, they’re not ready to come out yet. We aren’t ready.”
Beau sets our bags on the small couch beside me and crouches down so he’s at my level. “We’re ready, Marley. You’ve got this. You are the strongest person I’ve ever known, and if anyone can do this, you can.”
His words ease my anxiety but don't completely stop my spiral. “What if something happens to them?” I squeak. “They could get stuck, or have the cord wrapped around their neck, or?—”
“Then we are with a group of amazing doctors and nurses who know exactly what is best for them, and you.” Beau interrupts my spiral. “I’m scared too, but we just have to put that fear aside and go all in.” His fingers entwine mine.
“You’re scared too?”
“Butterfly, I’m terrified. I hate seeing you in pain, and I know that you’re in for a lot of it, and there is nothing that I can do to help you.”
“Don’t leave me,” I tell him. “That is how you can help me.”
“I won’t leave your side, I promise.” He presses a gentle kiss to my forehead, my nose, then finally my lips.
54
BEAU
