Page 26 of The Space He Left
But for now, in the quiet hotel room, I held Madison close and told myself I was exactly where I needed to be.
Chapter 9
Harper
The first contraction hit while I was making coffee.?
I'd been up since five, unable to sleep with the baby's constant movement and the strange, low ache in my back that had started during the night. I'd made my way downstairs carefully, one hand on the railing, the other supporting my enormous belly.
The morning light was just beginning to filter through the kitchen windows when it happened. A tightening that started in my back and wrapped around my middle like a vise, stealing my breath and making me grip the counter for support.
"Oh," I whispered to the empty kitchen. "Oh, that was different."
Different from the Braxton Hicks contractions I'd been having on and off for two weeks. Different from the false alarm that had sent me to the hospital with Sam. This felt purposeful, intense, like my body was finally ready to do what it had been preparing for all these months.
I looked at the clock. 6:17 AM. I counted the seconds until the contraction eased, trying to remember what Dr. Morris had told me about timing contractions. One minute. That was longer than practice contractions usually lasted.
I reached for my phone with shaking fingers and called Jack. Straight to voicemail.
"Jack, it's me," I said after the beep. "I think I'm in labor. The contractions are different this time, stronger. Call me back as soon as you get this."
I hung up and tried to breathe through the anxiety rising in my chest. Jack had promised he'd be there. He'd promised he'd make it back in time.
But as I stood in my kitchen, feeling utterly alone, I realized how much I'd been depending on that promise. How much I'd been counting on Jack to be there when our daughter decided to make her entrance into the world.
Another contraction hit, stronger than the first. I gripped the counter and tried to breathe the way I'd learned in birthing class. The class Jack had missed. The class Sam had driven me to when I'd finally admitted I needed help.
When the contraction ended, I called Jack again. Still voicemail.
"Jack, please call me back. The contractions are getting stronger. I need you to come home."
I tried to make breakfast, thinking that staying busy would help, but another contraction made me double over, gasping. This one lasted longer, felt more intense. I looked at the clock again. 6:43. Twenty-six minutes since the last one.
I called Jack again, my voice shaking as I left another message. "Jack, I need you to come home right now. Please, I'm scared."
But even as I said it, I knew he wouldn't get the message in time. Madison's surgery was this morning. Jack would be in pre-op with her, holding her hand, offering comfort while I faced the biggest moment of my life without him.
I tried calling two more times, each going straight to voicemail just like all my other calls. On the final attempt, I didn't even leave a message. There was no point. Jack had made his choice weeks ago, and it wasn't me. It wasn't our daughter.
The realization settled over me. I was going to do this alone. Not because circumstances had conspired against us, but because my husband had chosen to be somewhere else when our child was born.
I took a deep breath and felt something shift inside me. A letting go of the desperate hope I'd been clinging to, the fantasy that Jack would somehow realize what he was missing and race back to me. He wouldn't. And I needed to accept that and move forward.
The next contraction hit harder than all the others, making me cry out and grip the table. When it ended, I picked up my phone with steady fingers and called the one person I knew would answer.
"Sam? It's Harper. I'm in labor."
"I'm on my way," he said immediately. "Are you okay? Where's Jack?"
"He's not answering his phone. Madison's surgery is today, and he's spent the night with her."
There was a pause, and I could hear Sam's sharp intake of breath. "He what?"
"Sam, I'm scared."
"I'll be there in five minutes. Try to time the contractions."
His voice was calm, steady, exactly what I needed to hear. "Thank you. I don't know what I'd do without you."
