Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 63391 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 317(@200wpm)___ 254(@250wpm)___ 211(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63391 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 317(@200wpm)___ 254(@250wpm)___ 211(@300wpm)
“No, wait,” I choke out, my heart stuttering in my chest. “My husband isn’t here yet. Please, just wait, just a little longer…”
“They can’t, sweetheart,” Maude says gently, brushing another tear from my cheek. “The baby’s coming now. You need to focus. For you. For the baby.”
I tremble from crown to heel. I drag in a breath that never feels full and bear down. Pain ripples outward until my vision blurs. Then, just when I swear the world is collapsing inward, the door bursts open.
My head snaps toward the commotion, breath snagging in my throat. I swipe away tears to be sure I’m not hallucinating. Isaac is really there, chest heaving, eyes locked on me.
He’s a wreck. Blood streaks his shirt, a bruise blooming under one eye. His jacket hangs half-buttoned, hair wild, knuckles crusted with dirt and dried blood, but he’s here. Every muscle in my body shudders with relief.
“Isaac,” I sob, collapsing back into the pillows as the tears come fast and hard.
He rushes to my side, catching my face between his hands. His eyes rake over me with desperate urgency.
“I’m here, baby. I’m so sorry,” he whispers, forehead pressed to mine. “I got here as fast as I could.”
“Are you okay?” I hiccup between sobs. “What happened? Did they hurt you?”
“I’m okay,” he assures me, as his thumb brushes away the tears. “You don’t have to worry. I’m here. I’ve got you.”
Maude steps aside, letting him take her place beside me, her face soft with understanding.
“It’s good to see you,” she says, a flicker of relief betraying her own anxieties.
She stayed strong for me even when I knew she had doubts. She never left my side.
“Thank you,” Isaac says, his voice barely above a breath, eyes never leaving me.
“Please stay,” I say, before she can leave the room. “If my mom were alive, I’d want her to be here. You’ve taken care of me just as well as she would have. Please stay with us.”
Her eyes glass over, and she nods, circling to my other side to clasp my free hand. “It would be my genuine honor.”
Another contraction seizes me and I groan, clutching both of their hands.
Isaac squeezes back, and I turn to look at him.
“I’m here, Katya. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be by your side for every moment.”
And I know he means more than just this labor. He’ll be here for the rest of our child’s life, including the late nights, the mountains of diapers, and the constant crying. He’ll be here for scraped knees and crushed feelings, and he’ll still be here when our kid morphs into a bratty teenager who can’t stand either of us.
A surprising wave of calm washes over me. With him beside me, my body remembers what to do. I push again.
Time collapses and expands. Isaac is a rock beside me, whispering encouragement, holding my hand, letting me crush his fingers without flinching. He counts softly with the nurse, brushes my hair from my face, and tells me I’m doing so well, that he’s never seen anyone so strong, so beautiful.
Pain consumes me, but his voice cuts through it like light at the end of a tunnel.
“I love you,” he murmurs between pushes, lips at my temple. “You’re everything, Katya. Everything.”
I can’t speak, but my heart answers for me, clinging to every word he pours into the air.
Maude stays anchored at my side, coaching me with her steady, affectionate voice. Just when I think I can’t survive another second, a cry splits the air, a high-pitched, brand-new sound.
My body collapses into the mattress, suddenly remembering what it means to rest. Through the haze, I watch Isaac rise while the nurse swaddles the baby in a soft white blanket.
“It’s…” I gasp, trying to sit up.
The nurse smiles. “A beautiful, healthy girl.”
A girl. My chest splits wide open. Isaac stares, utterly still. I’ve never seen him this frozen, this awed. She’s tiny, red-faced, screaming her lungs out, and absolutely perfect.
“She’s…” I can’t finish the sentence.
“I know,” he whispers.
The nurse guides him into cutting the umbilical cord, and then they’re taking her away to clean her off. I watch this all through hazy, heavy lids while Maude strokes my hand and gives me updates.
“Oh, she’s a little fighter,” she says happily. “There’s nothing wrong with her lungs. I bet she’s just as stubborn as her father is.”
I listen through a blur until the nurse finally places her in my arms, and I fall apart all over again. She’s warm, soft, impossibly small. Her fingers curl around mine, and something inside me shifts permanently, as though my entire life has narrowed to this single perfect moment.
Isaac sits beside me, staring at the baby like he’s seen a miracle.
“She has your eyes,” I whisper.
He looks up at me, emotion brimming at the edges of his usual steel expression. “She has your heart.”