The pain is like a fire being lit inside me. It tears right through my body, especially my lower half, and it makes every single nerve in my body tingle with pain.
Sawyer holds me through it, rubbing his hand up and down my spine. The touch alone makes me shiver; the physical contact is more calming than I expect it to be.
A few seconds later, it passes, and I can finally breathe again.
“Can you walk?” he asks, voice gruff but still gentle.
I release a shaky breath and nod. “Yes.”
“Okay. We’re going into the bedroom. We’re going to get you dressed, and then we’ll go to the hospital.”
There’s something so calming about the protective, assertive nature of this man. Hell, I’d even go as far as to call it sexy. I’ve never had anyone—maybe except for my little sister—be like this with me. And normally, I wouldn’t take well to it.
But with Sawyer, I let him take the lead. I hand over the stress of all the things I have to do, and he takes it all in stride. This man doesn’t realise how much I appreciate him being the one at my side. I don’t think I would have been able to trust anyone else as much as I do him.
We hitthe hospital almost an hour later, my contractions only a few minutes apart, the pain becoming almost too much to bear. Pressure builds in my lower abdomen, becoming so overwhelming it has me bowing off the seat to relieve some of the pain.
The logical side of my brain knows we need to hurry. With the speed at which this hit, I have little time left. Over the last few years of being in labour and delivery, I’ve witnessed a handful of car deliveries. The ones who don’t make it in time, who got turned around only to make it back once the baby is born.
I’m at risk of doing the same. I know that.
But the brain in control, the one that only feels pain and pressure and can only breathe through it, isn’t letting the logic come out. Instead, I grip theoh-shithandle above my head, my other braced beneath me on the leather seat.
In the distance, I hear the familiar noise of the hospital. Ambulance engines rumble by the ER doors. Paramedics and patients coming and going. I notice the fire truck by soundbefore I even see it parked nearby. There’s police cars, too. The Sheriff is here somewhere. There must have been an accident.
I know I should instruct Sawyer and point him towards a different entrance closer to the maternity ward. But the pain traps me in a silent state I can’t escape. My body convulses as another ninety-second contraction grips me, only three minutes after the last one. Panic crawls at the edges of my consciousness, but by some miracle, it didn’t take complete control over me.
Sawyer’s warm hand landed on my thigh, somehow activating a wave of calm. “Talk to me, baby,” he says, voice low. “I don’t like how quiet you are.”
I release a heavy breath, which sounds almost like a laugh. “You don’t want to know what I’m feeling right now.”
It feels like my insides are being twisted, reshaped, and pummelled. I’ve known what to expect since I finished nursing school. Never had rose-tinted glasses regarding childbirth. I’ve seen the beauty and the horror of it. Watched life come into this world and life leave.
Pressure in my lower back and stomach makes me groan.
“Skye?” Sawyer questions as he pulls into the only parking space outside the hospital. Even though the snow has mostly stopped, there’s a wind picking up remnants of the blizzard, flicking it against the windshield of the truck.
The pressure doesn’t ease, leaving me with only one thought. “She’s coming,” I tell him, squeezing my eyes shut. “I’m having this babynow.”
ELEVEN
SAWYER
It all happened so fast: those words leaving Skye’s lips and me jumping out of the truck, shouting for help; the battle to get her sweatpants off and shifting her because there was no chance we were getting her inside the damned hospital. The rush of paramedics, the call for nurses. Any time we thought he might have had flown out the window in seconds.
Because in a matter of moments, to everyone’s shock and horror, Skye gave birth in my truck.
Everything after is a blur.
But now that Skye is settled in the maternity ward, I can’t help but reflect on those few moments where everything felt bleak. I’d expected to feel some sort of panic or fear. Both would have been understandable. But neither of those things happened.
Instead, I fulfilled my promise, and I’d been right there. I stayed with her. Held her hand.
And when I saw that baby for the first time…
“You’re still here,” Skye says, voice groggy from sleep. When I look up from our joined hands, I find her eyes on me. Sceptical. Worried.
“Of course, I am,” I murmur, bringing our joined hands to my lips, kissing her knuckles lightly. “You think I’d leave?”
