Page 168 of Ivory Oath

“You’re a liar!” I narrow my eyes at my husband as I simultaneously squeeze his calloused hand with every ounce of strength in my body. “You’re a dirty, no-good, filthy liar.”

He winces as my contraction peaks and my grip on his hand gets crushing. My hold loosens as the pain wanes. “I’ve been called worse. What did I lie about this time?”

My top lip curls back in a snarl. “You told me I could do this, but I can’t. I can’t do this.” I tip my head back and scream it to the ceiling in case the nursing staff can’t hear me. “I can’t do this!”

Mikhail brushes my sweaty hair away from my face. “You absolutely can do this, Viviana. I still believe that.”

“Says the man not having contractions every sixty seconds. Says the man who isn’t going to push a whole human out of his body in—Fuck! Probably never,” I grit as another contraction tears across my stomach. “This is going to last forever. I’m probably dead and this is my punishment.”

Mikhail offers me his hand. His fingers are bright red from using them as a stress ball, but my capacity to feel bad for him is nonexistent. I latch on again and squeeze like this is all his fault.

Which it is!

How many times did he say he wanted to “fuck a baby into me”? Well, we never discussed the other side of that. When the baby has to come out!

“All your fault,” I groan before my ability to speak is lost in a scream.

Mikhail wipes my forehead with a cool cloth and slips his other hand behind my back to knead the knotted muscles with his thumb. “What exactly do you think you need to be punished for?”

“For stabbing your brother. For lying to you about Dante. For selling my heart and soul to the devil for love.” I throw my hands up. “Or for all the times I broke the pay-it-forward chain in the drive-thru. I’ve gotten a lot of free coffees over the years and I never paid them back.”

Mikhail laughs and it’s a beautiful sound, but I also want to squeeze his lungs until he’s in as much pain as me—yet another reason I deserve to be punished.

“Free coffee isn’t a reason to be punished. Plus, I’m not sure if you’ve heard, but I’m an honorable man now.” His lips press against the shell of my ear. “I met a woman and she dragged me into the light.”

For half a second, my moon-sized bump isn’t demanding all of my attention.

For one fractured moment, I’m focused on Mikhail’s lips on my ear. On his warm breath against my skin.

Then another contraction rips through me and my back bows as I scream. “Fine! Then I deserve to be punished for rambling on and on to everyone who would listen about how much I wanted a natural childbirth.”

“Studies show the recovery is easier with a natural birth,” Mikhail says flatly. “You taught me that.”

Mikhail didn’t read any of my pregnancy books, but he might as well have. I read massive sections of them out loud to him every night in bed for months.

“That may be true, but the birth is torture. I want drugs!” I slap my hand over the nurse’s call button repeatedly. The middle-aged nurse, who I forgot has been standing between my legs for the last ten minutes, gives me a wave. “You asked for drugs twenty minutes ago and it was too late then. It’s definitely too late now. The doctor is on his way.”

“Dr. Rossi,” I growl. “This is his fault, too! He recommended that book on natural childbirth.”

“After you asked him for a book on natural childbirth,” Mikhail chuckles. He kisses my sweaty forehead. “How about we wait until the baby is out? If you still feel like wreaking vengeance once our baby girl is here, I’ll help.”

I fist the front of his shirt and drag him closer. “No takebacks. You have to keep your word.”

“With you? Always.”

Again, I’m almost free of the pain. Looking into Mikhail’s eyes, I can almost forget where we are. What’s about to happen.

Then a strangled curse tears out of my throat as Dr. Rossi rushes in the door.

“Let’s have a baby!” He grins, pulling on a pair of gloves.

And thirty minutes later, we do.

The second Dr. Rossi holds my wrinkled, slimy, perfect baby girl in the air, the pain disappears. I’m still exhausted. Still coated in sweat and blood and plenty of other fluids I don’t ever need to know about.

But none of that matters.

“She’s here.” I grab Mikhail’s hand, but I don’t squeeze. I bring his knuckles to my cheek and nuzzle my face against his warmth. “Our baby is here.”

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