Rose starts shaking her head at Connor, and his fingers firmly hold her in place so she stops.
“Rose,” he says softly, “your body is ready to have this baby. And if you just let go, your mind will catch up, darling.”
“I’m scared,” she cries, wetting his hand with her tears.
Connor eyes grow red as he stifles more emotion. “I’m not leaving you.” The limo is quiet, Ryke already off the phone. Rose’s forehead wrinkles as another contraction begins. She shuts her eyes, and Connor glances between her legs before looking back at his wife.
And he asks her, “When you were fourteen, what was the first thing I ever said to you?”
It looks like she wants to scream again, but the noise dies in her throat as she concentrates on Connor’s words. “Are you…quizzing me?”
“Yes,” he admits. I almost want to ask how much she’s dilated, but then I don’t want to imagine it at all. I’m guessing Connor can tell though, even if he’s not a doctor. He’s smart enough.
She chokes back a cry and lets out a trained breath. Rose opens her eyes as she answers, “You said that I was your greatest competition.”
“And now,” he whispers, “you’re my greatest ally.” With one hand on her knee, he says, “I need you to push.”
This is actually happening.
In the back of Connor’s limo.
Rose is having a baby.
I rub my lips while Rose pushes and curses, her language as foul as Ryke’s. She’s threatened to kill all of us in the span of a minute and declared her hate of pretty much everything.
Daisy pulls Rose’s damp hair out of her face. “You’re doing great, Rose,” she cheers her on.
I make sure to keep my mouth shut, more worried about what’s going to happen if the ambulance doesn’t show up when the baby does. Or if the baby isn’t breathing. Or if there are other complications with Rose. There are just too many things that could go wrong.
“Give me your shirt,” Connor says to me, his voice urgent. I take off my suit jacket and then unbutton my dress shirt. I pass it to him and then glance down at Lily.
She’s stunned in silence still, and maybe if she wasn’t pregnant too, she’d be less freaked out and more encouraging. I think the majority of us are terrified.
“One more push,” Connor tells her, his hands disappeared beneath his suit jacket across her lap.
Rose looks exhausted, her eyelids heavy. “Connor…it’s too much…”
“Rose, Rose, keep your eyes open.” He checks her body before he says, “You’re mentally capable of anything, even this.”
Rose holds in a breath, and then Lily abruptly unfreezes from her state. She stretches her arm to clasp Rose’s hand, who’s shaking and sweaty and the minute Rose meets her sister’s gaze, it’s over for both of them. They start crying profusely, and Rose nods repeatedly, gearing up to push one last time.
Ryke turns his head, not able to watch this. My hand shakes, and I ball it into a fist. I can barely keep my eyes trained on Connor and Rose either. It’s hard seeing two put-together people face a situation that seems too damn big for them. With consequences that could cripple everyone. And there’s nothing we can do to help.
Rose screams like someone is stabbing her in the chest.
Shrill. Pained screams.
My ears blister, and Ryke rests his hands on his head. I’m about to rub my eyes, to cover them, to tug at my collar. Something to distract my mind.
But then, the wail of a high-pitched baby follows Rose’s cries.
I can’t see the child yet. Instinctively, I look for Connor’s reaction. And it takes me a moment to realize that real tears well in his eyes.
I’ve never seen him cry.
Not even close to it, and there’s no mask concealing his emotions right now. It fills me with something pure and raw. It’s even hard to breathe.
Rose collapses back against Daisy, but her eyes stay like nervous pinpoints on her husband. “Is he okay?” she asks tiredly, her chin trembling.
She thinks that she’s having a boy. Maybe it’s what she believed this whole time, but in this moment, I can see that she’d be fine with it. She extends her arms to take him from Connor.
And then Connor lifts up the small baby, hands and legs tiny but moving, and alive. The cries have softened some. “She’s perfect, as far as I can tell.” She.
Rose got her girl.
Connor rests the baby on Rose’s chest, and she makes a high-pitched noise, not a cry but something that sounds content, to be close to her mom. He kisses his wife’s forehead. “Tell me if you’re feeling off,” he says softly.
Rose nods once, too fatigued to repeat the motion.
“You need to keep her on your chest, so her temperature can match yours until the ambulance arrives.” He tucks my button-down around their baby, to make sure she stays warm.
“Hi,” Rose whispers softly to the baby. “You’re a little gremlin, aren’t you?” Rose smiles as more tears spill. “My little gremlin.” As she touches her hand, the baby’s small fingers close around Rose’s pinky. Christ.
I wipe my eyes, and I can hear sirens in the distance, coming closer to us. I reach out and pat Connor on the shoulder. I have no words. He breaks his gaze from Rose and his child to meet mine, and he whispers to me, “This is the best and most terrifying day of my life.” He inhales a strained breath, his eyelashes wet with tears.
“You want to know the crazy thing?” I say back to him. “I could tell.”
Connor laughs into a weak smile, still overcome with things he’s never felt before. He blinks, and those tears fall.
I don’t think any of us imagined human life to be this powerful. I always pictured it as a bad thing—bringing a kid into a world of pain, misery, heartache. What’s the goddamn point?
And I can’t answer it in words. The point is in every feeling that ripples through my veins and grips my bones. It’s something that shrinks the universe to a single place and slows time to a millisecond. It’s too deep to articulate.
Ryke stares out the window. “The ambulance just parked in the emergency lane.”
Everything is going to turn out okay. I remember back in February, on the yacht, I stood out on the deck with Connor one night. A conversation that we shared crashes against me.
I told him, “I know you think you’re perfect, and that you’ll raise the perfect kid and have the perfect f**king life. But is there any part of you—even the tiniest part—that is scared shitless?” Before he opened his mouth, I cut him off, “And don’t bullshit me, Connor. Please.”
Connor licked his lips in thought before he said, “I’m not scared.”
It’s not what I wanted to hear. I choked on a laugh, about to turn around and leave him.
But he caught my shoulder and kept me there.
“I’m not finished yet either.” He carried a deep, tranquil serenity that just eased me in an instant. And he added, “I’m not scared because I’ve accepted the future that you fear.”
“English,” I snapped.
“I’m not perfect.” He shook his head at my growing smile. “Don’t tell Rose or Ryke I said it.”
“Deal,” I nodded. I only told Lily.
“I don’t believe my children will be perfect, Lo.” He continued, “I understand that circumstances will change them, mold them. My own, unforeseeable mistakes, might even hurt them. And they may not be perfect, but they will be steadfast.” He paused. “And yours will too.”