Page 60 of Interception

“That’s us.” I hold my arm out for Zee. “You ready to do this?”

“Yep.”

“You okay? Are you having second thoughts?”

“No. Babies are just kicking. Give me a minute to let them settle.” She takes my arm, and we head inside the office. It’s not how I pictured my wedding day, but nothing with Zee is how I pictured life and love and children. She’s definitely the woman I pictured the day I realized I wanted all of that good stuff.

We recite everything the Justice asks us to repeat, and when he asks if we want to say any vows of our own, I’m about to say ‘yes’ when Zee grabs my shoulder and turns to face the Justice. “We’re going to have to skip over the fluffy, personal vows right now.”

“I want to say something. It’s our wedding day.” She looks at me with her death stare.

“Nope. Save it for later. We need to wrap this up.”

“Jesus, Zee…” She just about tears my shoulder out of the socket.

“Coop, just say ‘I do’ and let’s go. I’d love to stay and hear all the ways you love me and tell you a million reasons why I love you, but I’m pretty sure my water just broke.” I look down, clear fluid pooling at our feet. She’s not going to find it funny if I tell her she just ruined a seven-hundred-dollar pair of shoes, is she?

“Holy shit! We’ve got to get you to the hospital, now.” I’m about to lift her into my arms, my mind going a million miles a minute.

“Not until we sign the papers. We’re getting married right now.”

“Fuck’s sake, Zee. This can wait.”

“No, it can’t. I want to be married to you when these boys are born. Hurry it up… please… sir.”

“With the authority granted me by the state of Tennessee, I now pronounce you man and wife. You can kiss the bride or take her to hospital.” He shoves papers across his desk. “Sign here.”

I scribble my name and hand the pen to Zee, who’s struggling to do anything other than breathe. Her signature looks like chicken scratch. I press a quick kiss to her lips and hoist her up into my arms.

“Hunter, my keys are in my back pocket. The truck is parked two blocks south in that parking lot we always use. Go and get it, now.”

He doesn’t make some wisecrack about having to venture into my pants and takes off at a run. Zee is tense in my arms. She’s clearly in pain, but she doesn’t make a sound. This wasn’t supposed to happen. We have a plan. We have a C-section set for eight days from now. She has a bag packed that we keep by the front door.

“What can I do?” Faith looks as worried as I feel, looking on helplessly at her friend in agony.

“Did you guys drive or take a cab?”

“We drove.”

“Okay. Go to my place and get the bag by the door. You can get in through the garage with the code.” She presses her head to Zee’s, tells her she loves her, and takes off.

“I’ll meet you at the hospital. Hang in there, Zee.”

I’m supposed to carry my new wife over the threshold, but instead, she’s groaning in my arms, and I feel completely useless.

“Oh God, it hurts, Coop. It really fucking hurts.”

“I’m going to get you to the hospital, and we’ll get you all the good drugs, okay, beautiful? We’ve got this.”

I turn to the Justice, who’s staring at the gross wet patch on his office floor. “Can you be a pal and grab my phone out my other back pocket and dial the OBGYN?”

“Certainly.”

“Put it on speaker.”

It rings for what feels like hours. “Hello, Doctor Garcia’s office.” Before she can give me the standard spiel, I interrupt.

“Hi, this is Cooper Danford. My wife, Zoey Porter, has just gone into labor. Her waters broke, and we were scheduled for a C-section next week. It’s twins.”

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