Page 71 of Pregnant Prisoner By the Bratva
“I’m trying!” She squeezed my hand.
“Yes, you are, honey, you’re doing great,” the doctor replied. “I just need you to try a little harder. I can see the baby’s head already.”
“You hear that,lyubimaya?” I tapped her hand encouragingly. “She can see our baby’s head. It’s almost over.”
She glanced up at me, tears in her eyes. “I’m tired…I’m so tired….” Her voice trailed off, eyelids fluttering close.
“Don’t let her fall asleep,” the doctor warned, shaking her head.
“Hey, hey, hey….” I tapped her face. “We have unfinished business. There’s a life that needs to be born, and you’re the gateway. We need you—Ineed you. So, please…push,” I encouraged.
She opened her eyes, met my gaze, and nodded, determination flickering in her features. Ester locked her jaw, her grip tightening around my hand. Her breaths came fast and shallow as she braced herself, her head nodding rapidly.
Ester pushed harder than before, veins lining her forehead, her muscles stiffening. She bit down on the folded piece of cloth a nurse had handed her. Her skin glistened with sweat, eyes widened in sheer agony.
“That’s it, Ester, you’re doing great!” the doctor declared.
Her jaw locked in, cloth clenched so hard her temples throbbed. She groaned deeply, squeezing her eyes shut.
My fingers were sore from the intensity of her grip, but it was a small price to pay for a safe delivery.
“One more push, Ester—just one more!” said the doctor.
“You’ve got this,” I whispered in her ear.
She threw her head backward and let out a guttural growl so primal it sent shivers down my spine. Her muscles burned, fingers squeezing the sheets, her grip tightening around my hand. Her face turned red, covered in sweat, with a strand of hair falling across her eyebrow.
Her legs trembled, and for a moment there, I was afraid she was going to explode or that the vein on her forehead would snap.
She strained hard, pushing even harder. I remained by her side, anchoring her to reality.
And then, in a heartbeat, a cry.
Small.
Beautiful.
“Wonderful job, Ester. You did it,” the doctor said, chuckling.
The cloth slipped from her mouth, and her head dropped back on the pillow, her chest rising and falling with heavy breaths.
“You did it,lyubimaya,” I said, my lips curling into a smile. “You did it.”
Tears streamed down her cheeks, a bright grin lighting up her face. Her heavy sigh of relief left her lips like a burden had been lifted off her chest.
The cry of our baby girl filled the room, cute and adorable.
Ester turned to face me, her hand on my cheek as I wiped the tears from her eyes. “Thank you,” she mouthed, her skin glowing under the soft light.
“I’m so proud of you,” I said, brushing the back of my fingers over her brows.
“Would you like to hold her?” the doctor asked, her voice drawing our attention to her.
She approached Ester with our girl wrapped in a clean white cloth. “She’s beautiful,” the doctor said, a small grin tugging at her lips.
Ester struggled to sit up with her back against the wall. She reached out, and the baby was carefully placed in her arms. “Hey, little one,” she murmured, sniffling with glassy eyes.
I leaned over them, watching this unbelievably tiny baby, perfect in every way. Her fingers curled, lashes barely visible as her mother cradled her with delicate caution.
