A contraction gripped her and Peyton’s gasp cut him off. She tried to breathe but was crying too hard at the same time. It eventually eased and then Nat came in glancing between the two of them as she hooked the belt of the CTG machine around her bump. Squeezing Peyton’s hand, she said, ‘Erica’s just parking her car.’
Peyton watched the curtains fall back into place as Nat left, not really taking in the update as all the anger and fight left her body. It was too bloody exhausting right now and she was going to need her energy. She glanced at Valentino, so big and vital beside her despite having just gotten off a long-haul flight, and she felt like a husk.
‘I can’t do this again, Valentino.’ She heaved in a deep breath. ‘Ican’tdo it. I don’t have enough strength for this.’
‘You, Peyton Donald, are the strongest woman I know.’ He brushed at her fringe and she didn’t pull away. ‘Look what you’ve been through already. Look how you survived. You’re a survivor.’
Peyton angled her head until he was cradling her face and she shut her eyes, two more tears squeezing out and trekking down her face.Why did she have to be the strong one?
‘Why can’t something just go my way for once?’ She opened her eyes and straightened her head. ‘You told me it would be okay,’ she whispered. ‘I trusted you.’
Placing his other hand on her face, he cupped both cheeks, his eyes meeting hers with utter sincerity.
‘Youcantrust me. I’m not going to let anything happen. We’ll look at the CTG and get an ultrasound, and if it is preterm labourthen you’ll go on nifedipine and the labour is going to stop, and you’re giving up work and going on bed rest and I’m going to support you and feed you and pamper you, and this baby will go to full term and then we’re getting married because I love you and we’re going to Italy for a honeymoon and we’re taking the kids.’
Peyton was so churned up she found it difficult to follow his stream-of-consciousness speech. She wasn’t even sure if she heard him right. But the conviction in his words was strong and shesowanted to believe him.
Had he actually said the L word? She sniffed and said, ‘What?’
Then the curtains snapped back and Erica arrived, pushing a portable ultrasound machine and looking calm and efficient and in control.
‘How are you doing?’ she asked both of them as she switched on the machine and fiddled with some dials.
‘Lousy,’ Peyton admitted.
Erica nodded. ‘You?’ she asked Valentino.
‘Scared witless.’
Peyton looked at him, startled. He hadn’t seemed in the least bit afraid. He’d been commanding and confident, had got her to A&E and arranged for Erica to be here and told her everything was going to be okay. He’d been the epitome of cool, calm and collected, especially in the face of her histrionics.
Erica nodded again. ‘Normal, then.’ She inspected the graph readout the CTG was spitting out as it monitored the baby.
Her face gave nothing away but that just increased Peyton’s dread. ‘It’s bad, isn’t it?’
Erica looked her in the eye. ‘It’s showing regular strong contractions. But the baby’s heart rate is steady and there are no decelerations. He doesn’t appear to be any distress. Let’s havea look first, okay?’ She placed a condom over the trans-vaginal probe and squirted warmed lubricant on it.
That all seemed like good news but Peyton had ridden the medical rollercoaster before and what she need was assurances. Grabbing Erica’s sleeve, she said, ‘Please tell me it’s going to be okay.’
Erica glanced at Valentino then back to Peyton. She shook her head. ‘I don’t know yet, Peyton. But I will in a second. Let’s be sure, okay?’
A hot tear escaped out the corner of Peyton’s left eye as she wriggled out of her scrub pants and underwear beneath the sheet Erica provided. Trying not to tense, she bent her knees up, her feet flat on the gurney as Erica expertly situated the probe.
Valentino squeezed her hand and dropped a kiss on her shoulder, which caused a tear to roll from the other eye as an image flickered on the screen. Peyton shut her eyes tight, turning her head into Valentino’s shoulder.
She couldn’t bear to watch.
After what seemed like minutes Peyton couldn’t take the silence any longer, convinced Erica was trying to find a way to tell her she was almost fully dilated again. ‘Well?’ she demanded.
Erica flicked a switch and the sure and steady beat of their baby’s heart filled the cubicle. Peyton broke down at the glorious sound. It seemed so strong but she knew at twenty-four weeks their son was so very, very fragile.
Too young to be in the outside world.
Erica removed the probe and switched off the machine. ‘The good news is you haven’t dilated.’
Peyton clutched at Valentino’s shirt as the info sank in. For the first time since she’d realised she was in labour, a ray of hope slanted into the quagmire of her grief.
‘But you are 50 per cent effaced.’
