Page 81 of Broken Princess

My heart surges in panic and eager excitement all at once.

I don't waste any time. I grab my keys and head for the door, breaking every traffic law on my way home.

When I pull up, I can see her father pacing back and forth on the porch, and he looks like he's feeling about as anxious as I am.

Miceli has recovered fully from his injuries, but I think he's actually enjoying not having quite as hectic of a life as he did before. And I'm more than happy to prove myself by picking up some of the slack, especially since it means Amelia is able to spend more time with him while we're here.

"Where is she?" I ask.

"Upstairs," Miceli says. "She's insisting there's time to get to the hospital. Maybe you can talk some sense into her before I call an ambulance."

I blink. Amelia is usually the levelheaded one, and I don't typically have reason to question her judgment, but this is one of those times.

I rush inside and up the stairs, finding her repacking things in the overnight bag we've had packed for weeks.

"Oh, hey," she says, smiling like she's just casually folding the laundry. No big deal. "You made it home fast."

"Uh... yeah, you're in labor," I say, wondering if I somehow misinterpreted the text.

"Yeah, I know," she says with a shrug. "But like I told my father, there's still plenty of time to get to the hospital. No need to rush just yet."

I stare at her for a moment in disbelief before finally shaking my head. "Okay, let me rephrase that. You are in labor and we are going to the hospitalright now."

Amelia gives me a look that puts me on edge in a way men four times her size can't manage, even when they're armed. "I'm fine, Lorenzo. The contractions aren't even that close together."

I walk over to her, putting my hands on her shoulders and gently turning her to face me because I can tell something is wrong. "Listen to me, baby. I know you're freaked out, but—"

"That's not what this is about!" she protests.

"No?" I challenge, tilting her chin so she has to look me in the eyes when she tries to turn away. "I know you, Amelia. Better than anyone. You're scared, and that's understandable, but it's going to be okay. You've got the best doctor in the state and I'm going to be there holding your hand the whole time."

"It's not that," she says, tears filling her eyes. "I mean, yeah, it is a little bit that. But... what if we're not ready? What if I’m not ready to be a mother?"

My heart aches at the fear I see in her eyes, and I wish more than anything that I could make it all go away. Instead, I take her into my arms and hold her against my chest.

"You're going to be an amazing mother," I tell her firmly. "I know it's scary, but trust me when I say you're going to be great at this."

"How can you be so sure?" she asks.

"Because you're Amelia," I say simply. "You're strong and brave, and you always find a way to overcome whatever obstacle is in your path. You're an incredible daughter, friend, and wife, and you're going to be an incredible mother, too. That's just what you do. No matter what life throws at you, you always rise to the occasion and make it look easy."

She looks up at me, fresh tears slipping down her cheeks. "You're getting pretty good at this whole pep talk thing."

I smile, leaning down to brush my lips against her forehead. "Yeah? I've been practicing," I tease, brushing a tear off her cheek. "Now, come on. Let's go meet our daughter."

Amelia takes a deep breath and nods, giving my hand a squeeze. "I'm ready."

While Amelia seems calm, all things considered, I'm the one who’s melting down on the drive to the hospital. Miceli is behind the wheel, and even though I'm not used to being a passenger, I'm relieved not only that I can sit in the back with Amelia and coach her through the contractions like I learned, but also because I don't trust myself on the road at the moment.

When we finally arrive at the hospital, the check-in process is a blur. Miceli takes care of giving them the insurance information, and since the hospital is only allowing one visitor back, I go with Amelia to a private room. The more time that passes, the contractions grow closer together, and I can tell it's wearing on her.

"How're you doing, sweetheart?" I ask, stroking her hair back from her forehead.

"I'm okay," she says with a nod, though she looks exhausted. "Just ready for this to be over."

The next few hours are a blur of pain and exhaustion for Amelia until they decide it's time for the epidural, which seems to bring her considerable relief. It's only then that I let myself breathe a little. Finally, after what feels like forever, the midwife announces that it's time to push.

I remain at her side, stroking her hair and letting her squeeze my fingers to the point where it feels like they might snap. How such a tiny woman can suddenly be so strong is beyond me.

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