Page 34 of Love Me

“Han, you okay? Once you get changed, we’ll head to the hospital.”

She opens the door wearing a large Hellraiser T-shirt, holding a folded-up towel between her thighs.

“You going like that?”

“Yep. This isn’t a fashion show, a small human is about to exit my body through a tiny hole between my legs. Bring me my phone so I can let Levi know to meet us there.”

I turn and roll my eyes. This’ll be a good ol’ time. Despite Hannah’s pregnancy news, Levi hasn’t stepped up. Surprise fucking surprise.

Handing the phone over to her, she calls the dipshit. He picks up on the third attempt and each time she has to call him, my anger increases. He fucking knows how far along she is, knows that this baby could come at any moment. Knowing his ass isn’t on a ship right now and that he is choosing not to be here, I want to knock his teeth to the back of his throat and watch him slowly choke to death on them.

“Labor takes a while, Levi. If you leave now, you can make it.”

“I don’t care how late it is. You’re going to willingly miss the birth of your child?”

“Wow. Okay. Fine. I’ll update you tomorrow.”

She hangs up and throws the phone to the couch as a contraction hits her hard.

“Fucking shitballs. These hurt like a mofo,” she says through clenched teeth once the contraction passes. I hate seeing her in pain and don’t know what to do to fix it for her. I’ve never felt so goddamn useless before.

“You good, beauty?”

Seems like a fucked-up thing to ask considering she’s obviously in physical pain and Levi just massively let her down. She straightens her spine as best she can with the weight of her pregnant belly in front of her.

“Nothing I can’t handle. He’s an asshole. He doesn’t feel like driving. Told me to update him in the morning. So, fuck him.”

Things turn from anticipation to concern really quick as the contractions increase in severity. Hannah doubles over in pain, breathing hard through each one as they come rapidly back-to-back. She’s unable to take more than a few steps at a time, and with my help, we stop in the kitchen. On her next contraction, I dial 9-1-1. Based on all the pregnancy books I read so that I could support her, I don’t think getting her in my truck and driving to the hospital is a safe bet.

“I can’t do this. We need to get to a hospital. Please, bear. Please, get me to a hospital.”

I move directly in front of her, grabbing her face between my hands, forcing her to focus on me and me alone. When I speak, my words are firm, honest, and leave no room for discussion.

“Hannah. Listen to me. This baby is coming. The paramedics are on their way. You can do this. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“I’m so scared.”

“You don’t need to be. You’ve got me, and we’re about to meet this baby. Girl or boy?”

She laughs for a moment before another contraction hits her hard. She leans over the edge of the kitchen counter, one hand bracing herself, the other hand on her lower back. Moving up behind her, I put my palms there, massaging the tight muscles, trying my best to give her some relief.

“Boy. I think it’s a boy,” she says on a rushed exhale.

“Nah. Totally a girl. Only a girl would be giving their momma this hard of a time.”

“Fuck, bear. It hurts so much. There’s so much pressure.”

Fuck.

“Han, I need you to lay down. Paramedics might not make it in time.”

“WHAT?” Her scream could wake the goddamn dead, and her eyes are wide and terrified.

“Okay, psycho, no need to scream. But you need to lay down.” She levels me with a stare that could bring down an entire kingdom, but relents, thank fucking god.

I quickly snatch up the towels that were pulled out when her water broke and lay them down on the floor with a pillow. Grabbing Hannah by the hands, I guide her on top of them and force her to lay on her back. I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing but I’ve seen enough movies that hopefully I can catch a slippery-ass baby as it leaves her body. I just hope to fuck there’s no complications. I’m not a religious person, but right now, I’m sending up prayers to every god that could possibly exist to see my girl through this.

“Do you know what you’re doing?” she bellows, panic, pain, and fear laced in her tone.

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