Page 55 of Plus-Size Pregnant Mate

"Owen," I reached out. He walked over, taking my hand and giving it a squeeze. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

The contractions got worse, and after a couple of hours, I knew what Wendy meant when she said she wished it to end.

"Breath," Owen said softly in my ear, his hand patting my hair away from my face.

I knew he was trying to be sweet, but every time he told me to breathe, I wanted to punch him in the gut.

"Owen, I love you, but if you tell me to breathe one more time." A contraction hit, and I exhaled slowly before looking back at him. "I will make you feel pain by having the nurse kick you in the nuts."

He smirked. "You know that the only person going near my nuts is you."

I couldn't even muster up a laugh as another contraction hit, making me cry out in pain.

I suddenly wanted my mom. I wished she was here holding my hand, telling me how strong I was and that I was doing so well. I started to cry.

"Sweetie," Owen patted a rag over my forehead. "You're doing great."

"I want my parents," I said, tears flowing. "I hate that they aren't here. I hate that they hurt me, but I hate them not being here even more."

Owen looked hurt, and the doctor interrupted the conversation before we could say anything.

"Ashley, it's time to push."

Twenty minutes later, I gave birth to our daughter. She came out screaming, and I felt an instant connection, knowing she was mine.

The nurse wiped her down and wrapped her in a blanket while Owen hovered over her. "She's beautiful," he said.

I sank into the sheets, closing my eyes for a moment. I could hear the nurses speaking but I drowned them out until it was just Owen and I alone.

I tried to sit up, but Owen stopped me. "Don't…you had a tear. The doc had to stitch you."

I sank back into my pillow, my eyes snapping towards the small crib. "Can I hold her?"

He nodded, pulling her out and hanging her gently to me. I pulled her close, taking in her baby scent. I could feel my wolfsoothed and proud of what we'd created.

"Isn't she just perfect," he said, placing a few fingers on her hair. "She has your hair color."

"That could change," I said suddenly feeling sorrow. I looked out the window, wishing my folks were here.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

I wiped at my eyes, “My folks should be here,” I whispered.

Owen placed a hand on my shoulder and there was a soft knock at the door. The door was pushed open, and my eyes widened as my folks stepped inside.

What threw me was how they looked. My mother was wearing a simple cream-colored dress with no jewelry. She didn't have the confident look in her eyes that I was so used to.

And my father looked almost afraid as he stepped inside.

"Mom? Dad? How did you know I was here?"

"Owen called," my mother said, her voice coming out softly.

I licked my lips, looking at Owen and then back at them. I didn't know what to say.

"Can we come in? my father said, placing a hand on my mother's shoulder. “

I stared at them before I softly nodded and they both stepped inside. The door shut softly behind them. My mother gave me a smile. “We’re sorry…for everything.”

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