“Tell me how it feels,” he says.
“Like… pressure,” I breathe. “Like my body knows what to do even if I don’t.”
His lips touch my knuckles. One kiss. Then another.
“You are strong and intuitive,” he whispers. “And I’m right here to take any fears you have away.”
I smile, though it feels small and shaky. “You can’t take all of them.”
He lifts his eyes to mine, steel and devotion tangled together.
“Then I will stand between them and you.”
A contraction builds again, sharper this time, and I gasp, gripping his hand.
He holds me tight through it, breathing with me, grounding me. When it passes, I sag against the edge of the tub, panting.
“I’m okay,” I say.
“I know.” His voice thickens. “But you don’t have to be brave alone.”
My heart aches with something that has nothing to do with the baby descending.
For a long moment, he just watches me, chest rising and falling like he’s been running for miles. Then he cups my cheek, thumb soft against my skin.
“You amaze me,” he whispers.
The water ripples around my belly as our baby kicks, strong and eager.
A quiet laugh escapes me. “They’re excited to meet you.”
He leans closer, resting his forehead against mine. “They already know me. I’ve been talking to them every night while you sleep.”
My breath catches with surprize. “What do you say?”
“That they were made from strength,” he murmurs. “And love.”
Love.
The word steals my air. It terrifies me more than the next contraction.
He sees the flicker of fear in my eyes and presses a kiss to my lips, soft and unhurried.
“Don’t think about anything except this,” he says, voice like velvet wrapped around steel. “You’re safe. Our child is safe. Everything else can fall away.”
The ache returns, deep and primal but I’m not scared anymore.
Vitali
Charlotte’s fingers crush mine, and I welcome the pain because it means I’m here, part of this. Part of them.
The room is a blur of midwives and measured voices, but she is the only thing in my universe that matters. Her hair is damp with sweat, her face flushed with exertion and fury and fear, and she is the most goddamn magnificent thing I have ever seen.
“You’re doing so well,” I whisper, lips brushing her temple. “So strong. A warrior.”
She shakes with the next contraction, knuckles turning white around my hand. Her breath breaks and reforms as a gasp.
“It hurts,” she chokes, and it shreds me.
