"That's our baby," I whisper, choked up by emotion.
"That's our baby." She covers my hands with hers. "Apparently not a fan of the table."
"Noted. We'll use the bed next time."
She laughs, and it shakes her whole body. I feel the baby kick again against my right palm and press my forehead against hers, holding my hands on her belly while the kicks slow from thumps to flutters.
"Let's go finish this party so I can take you home, Mrs. Kuzin." I press a kiss to her lips.
"Yes, let's… My back is starting to hurt." She smiles, and it lights up the room. I am the luckiest man alive.
31
EPILOGUE
MILA
"Push, Mila! Now!" Dr. Levin grows stern, and I bear down with every muscle in my body. My teeth are clenched, my head lifted off the pillow, and my free hand wraps around the bed rail so tightly if it were Roman's fingers, I'd have snapped them by now. The contraction crests and I push through the peak of it until my arms shake and my vision narrows.
"Good, that's good. Breathe for me." Dr. Levin sits between my feet at the foot of the breakaway bed, ready to deliver as soon as the baby comes. "Catch your breath. You're going to push again on the next one."
I collapse back against the pillow, gasping, as the room swims around me. The pain is so overwhelming, I almost passed out on the way up here, but it's so close. Oh, God, I want this to be over.
Roman wipes the sweat off my forehead with a cool rag a nurse gave him. His hand is trembling, though he's trying to hold it steady, and his face is pale. He seems too nervous to be the sameman I met now almost a year ago. I squeeze his hand, and he presses a kiss to my forehead.
"You're doing so good, baby. Just a few more minutes, our baby will be here."
I can't respond to him as winded as I am, and before I manage to catch my breath another contraction hits. The pressure rolls through my lower body, wrapping around my hips and pulling downward with a force that takes over completely. I curl forward and bear down again, pushing until my face is hot and wet with tears. Roman leans his forehead against my temple and breathes with me, matching my rhythm.
"You're doing incredible," he says against my hair, and I'd tell him to shut up except I need to hear his voice right now more than I need to breathe.
"Bear down, Mila. I can see the head. You're almost there." Dr. Levin's voice is calm. He's done this a million times before, I bet. But it's my first time and I'm terrified.
"God, it hurts too bad. Make it stop. I can't do this."
"Mila, it's okay, honey," a nurse croons, and I want to murder her.
"Shh, love, you're doing well." Roman's kiss on my cheek is tender and he wipes at my forehead again. "You're making my dream come true, baby. Don't give up now." His coaching is what gets me through this. I swear, I'll never do this again.
The next contraction builds, and I grip Roman's hand and push. The pressure is enormous, concentrated deep in every muscle, and my body's doing things I have no control over—muscles contracting on their own, my hips shifting. Everything in meis working toward a single purpose that overrides thought and fear and exhaustion. Roman's arm slides behind my shoulders, lifting me forward, bracing me, and I push harder, screaming like a wild feral animal who thinks it's dying, because I think I'm dying.
"Excellent work, Mila. Go, go… Push…" I feel his fingers on my body in sacred places reserved for only Roman, and then he chuckles. "The head's out," Dr. Levin says. "One more push. The shoulders now."
I push one more time, and the pressure breaks in a sudden release that empties me, leaving me hollow and shaking and panting with my head against Roman's shoulder and his arm still holding me up. For half a second, the room is perfectly still before I'm shivering and my teeth start shattering. It's quiet and nurses shuffle around doing their jobs like a well-orchestrated ballet.
Then a cry cuts through the room, filling every corner of the room—and I lift my head.
Dr. Levin is holding my baby up proudly with scissors lying on the little one's belly as nurses bring him warm towels. He turns toward me, and his professional composure cracks into a smile. "It's a girl, Mila."
"A girl?" I whimper. After months of assuming we'd have a boy and dancing around the thought of him one day leading our family, the announcement brings a bit of surprise.
"You have a daughter." Levin grins as it sinks in, and Roman starts to laugh.
He chuckles and wipes his own forehead, then helps me relax as nurses drape warm blankets over my body. Then Dr. Levin places our little girl on my chest.
She's tiny, red-faced and screaming, and her fists are balled up, eyes squeezed shut. But she's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. I cup the back of her head with my hand as tears fill my eyes.
"Hi, baby girl," I whisper through tears that come freely. "Mommy's here, baby girl. I'm here."
