Page 79 of Merciful Lies

Wetness all around me, pooling between my legs.

“Nico?” I turn my head to my husband who’s sprawled out on his belly. I shake his shoulder.

“Huh? Anna, you okay?” he says, and I can tell he is fully awake with just a moment’s notice.

Fear and excitement fill me. Tears prick my eyes, and I bite my lip. Then I tell him.

“I think my water broke.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR-ANNA

It’s still too early. Three weeks till my due date, but this baby is so big, I guess he needed more room or something.

Nico didn’t even skip a beat when I woke him with the news. I’m so busy counting minutes between contractions I hardly notice him carrying me outside to the SUV and holding me the whole way to the hospital.

We know the birth will be difficult because wide hips or not, my husband is a huge man and our baby takes after him.

“We don’t have a name,” I say, looking at Nico as the panic of what’s about to happen settles in.

“What name do you like?” he asks, holding my hand after he’s placed me on a gurney.

I expect the hospital to tell him he has to wait somewhere else or something. But they don’t. They simply push me to a private room where I see a dozen men in black standing in the hallway.

Security guards?

Angel is one of them, and he gives me a slight smile as he nods his head at Nico.

“Rosebud,” Nico says, catching my attention. “Have you thought about names?”

He repeats his question and I try to think, but I’m having another contraction.

I feel sweat beading on my forehead, and I groan as my entire body feels like it’s being squeezed between two vise grips.

Any conversation halts right then. My whole world is tilted as I’m being transferred from the gurney to a hospital birthing bed.

I’ve talked with both the doctor and Nico about wanting to try to give birth naturally, but I’m afraid. It hurts so much. And I must say something about it because suddenly Nico is there.

The nurses already lowered the front of the bed and raised the support bar, and I’m using it to lean on as the next contraction hits.

I feel my husband’s powerful arms wrap around me, offering me even more support. He’s saying things, wonderful things, in my ear. And he is kneeling on the bed behind me.

“You’ll ruin your suit,” I whimper inanely.

“I can get a new suit,” he says, and I can hear the smile in his voice.

“Oh God, it hurts. I can’t,” I cry.

I feel my energy waning. I don’t know how long it’s been, and I’m tiring out. I wonder if it’s too late for the epidural and I scream as another contraction rips through me.

But then Nico is there. His hands are holding me, soothing me, offering me comfort, and I take it. I grab onto him instead of the support bar, and it’s like I can feel his energy pouring into me.

“Yes, you can, Rosebud. You can do anything.”

“It’s too hard,” I whimper, still doubting myself.

And I hate that I feel that way. That I don’t think I am strong enough. I’ve got a million fears and doubts all clawing at me, and I don’t want to give into them. But it’s hard to block them all out.

What if I mess up?

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