I’m about to respond when a sharp pain lances through my abdomen, so intense it steals my breath. I gasp, my hand flying to my stomach.
“Sophia?” Mikhail’s voice is sharp with concern. “What’s wrong?”
Another pain, stronger this time, and I feel something warm and wet between my legs. When I look down, I see blood seeping through my nightgown.
“The baby,” I whisper, terror flooding through me. “Mikhail, something’s wrong with the baby.”
He’s already moving, scooping me into his arms and shouting for his men. As he carries me toward the door, another contraction hits, and I cry out in pain.
“Hold on,” he says, his voice steady despite the fear in his eyes. “Just hold on, my love. I’ve got you.”
But as another wave of pain crashes over me, I realize with dawning horror that our baby is coming. Two months early.
48
MIKHAIL
The fluorescent lights of the emergency room burn my eyes as I carry Sophia through the automatic doors.
Her face is pale, twisted with pain, and there’s blood soaking through her nightgown. So much blood.
My hands shake as I hold her against my chest, and I’m shouting before I even reach the reception desk.
Once again, we’re at a hospital with Sophia in pain, looking like she’s bleeding out, and with our baby in danger.
My private doc is out of town today, of all days, visiting her mother who is sick, so I’ve no choice but to take her to a hospital.
A nurse is already appearing, fussing over Sophia when she sees the blood. “Sir, what happened?”
“She’s pregnant. Seven months. She started bleeding.” The words tumble out in a rush.
Within seconds, we’re surrounded by medical staff. They try to take Sophia from my arms, but I can’t let go.
I can’t release her to these strangers who might not understand how precious she is, how much she means to me.
“Mikhail.” Sophia’s voice is weak, her blue eyes finding mine. “Let them help me.”
I force my arms to loosen, and they transfer her to a gurney. I follow as they wheel her through a maze of corridors, my hand gripping hers like it’s the only thing keeping me tethered to reality.
They take us to a private room, and I’m grateful for the small mercy. A doctor enters, young but competent-looking, with kind brown eyes.
“I’m Dr. Chen,” she says, pulling on gloves. “Can you tell me what happened?”
Sophia tries to speak, but another contraction hits her. I watch helplessly as she curls into herself, her hand crushing mine with surprising strength. When it passes, she’s gasping for air.
“She’s been having complications.” My voice is rougher than I intend. “She’s been on bed rest, but now she’s bleeding and having contractions. Not the first time we’ve had medical help from her bleeding either.”
Dr. Chen’s expression grows serious as she examines Sophia, asking questions about her medical history, the pregnancy timeline, any previous issues.
I answer what I can, but there’s so much I don’t know. The guilt eats deeper at me.
“We need to do an ultrasound,” Dr. Chen says. “I need to check on the baby and see what’s causing the bleeding.”
A nurse wheels in the machine, and I move to stand beside Sophia’s head, my hand stroking her hair.
She looks up at me, and I see the fear in her eyes that mirrors my own.
“It’s going to be okay,” I tell her, even though I have no right to make that promise. “You’re both going to be fine.”
