Page 61 of Ruthless Claim

He sees me coming and the relief on his face is so raw that my throat tightens.

“She’s okay,” he says immediately. “They’ve got her settled, they said”—his voice catches slightly and he presses his mouth together—“they said she’s progressing well and she’s in good spirits. She told the admissions nurse her contractions feel like being repeatedly stabbed, but she said it politely, so⁠—”

“That’s Emma,” I manage, interrupting my brother’s ramble.

“She wants you in there.” He runs a hand through his dark hair. “She said, and I quote, if my husband doesn’t stop Googling fetal heart rate statistics you’re going to need your own hospital room. And also, please bring Valentina.”

I love her so much it’s insane. “I’m going,” I tell him, squeezing his arm. I start to walk forward before I stop. “Leo.”

My brother looks at me and I put both hands on his arms. “She is going to be absolutely fine. She is the strongest person either of us knows. You know this.”

He breathes out but the worry remains in his brown eyes. “I know.”

I quirk a brow at him. “Say it like you mean it.”

“I know,” he repeats, and this time it sounds convincing. He pulls me in for a quick, tight hug that is very un-Leo in its desperation and very him in how fast he releases it, because he doesn’t do things like this in public.

“Go be with her,” he tells me, brandishing his phone. “I’ll—I’m going to call Mamma.”

I don’t bother telling him I already called our mother in the car and she’s on her way.

He needs something to do and our mother will play along. “That’s a good idea.”

“I know it is,” he says slyly, becoming more recognizably my brother. “I thought of it.”

I roll my eyes. “You are so lucky your wife is in labor,” I tell him. “Now call our mother and tell her that her first grandchild is on her way. Have fun with the hearing loss.” With that, I clap Leo on the shoulder and walk into the birthing room.

Emma is in bed with the monitor doing its thing beside her, dark auburn hair already coming out of her sloppily-done braids.

She’s wearing a very unfashionable hospital gown and has a resigned expression.

She looks up when I come in and her face—oh, her face lights up in that particular Emma way that has always felt like sunlight and which I will never in my life take for granted.

“Oh thank god,” she breathes, clasping her hands together in delight. “Someone with actual social skills.”

A burst of laughter escapes me as I set down my purse on the uncomfortable looking sleeper sofa and draw my best friend into a hug. “How are you⁠—”

“Don’t ask me that. I’m in labor, Val, obviously I’m not great.” She hugs me back but then squeezes me tightly. I’m not expecting it, wincing at how hard she’s grabbing me.

“Sorry,” Emma grunts. “Fucking—contraction.”

“Don’t apologize and stop talking,” I tell her. So what if I’m snapped in half? “Just get through it.”

Emma whimpers, her whole body shaking, and I bite my lip to stop crying out from how much her squeezing me hurts.

I can feel when the contraction ebbs because she finally releases me and takes a deep, shuddering breath.

I step back, wincing a bit at my sore stomach and back.

“Cool,” Emma says cheerfully, her cheeks flushed. “That’s a fun feeling. I’m really enjoying this.”

This is anything but fine. “You can say that it sucks,” I tell her, sitting down in the chair and grabbing her hand.

“I’m fine,” Emma says, plucking the thin blanket on the bed. “I’m genuinely fine, I’ve just decided to be funny about it because if I’m not funny about it I’m going to cry. I’ve got a very long day ahead of me and I need to conserve the crying.” She squeezes my hand again and I wince, expecting it to suddenly be painful.

Emma laughs, her green eyes alight with laughter. “No contraction this time, I promise. You handled it better than your brother though.”

“Leo is such a baby,” I say dryly. “Why our father chose him over me is beyond my wildest imagination, considering Leo can’t handle any pain.”