Page 44 of Girl, We Go Together
I turned halfway, my vision blurry with tears.
“Don’t you touch me,” I snapped, clutching my stomach as another wave of pain hit. “This baby’s coming, and I’ll die before I let you take this moment from me, too.”
I went to step down another stair, but the pain that radiated up my back stopped me.
“I’m calling an ambulance,” he quickly said before rushing back inside for his phone.
Slowly, I lowered myself onto the stairs. I counted in my head as I tried to control my breathing. The night spun around me as I heard sirens in the distance. My whole world felt like itwas balancing on the edge of love, betrayal, and new life. All I could think was that this child deserved better. I needed to find my inner independent woman again so I could give my baby girl the peaceful environment she would be able to thrive in. The wetness soaked my legs, dripping down the steps, and my breath hitched. This wasn’t right. This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen.
“No, no, no… It’s too soon,” I whispered, clutching my stomach. Panic clawed at my throat. I had just turned eight months.
My baby wasn’t ready. Orion was suddenly beside me, reaching out, but I shoved him back.
“Don’t touch me! This is your fault, Orion! The stress. You sat there at every appointment and watched how my doctor said to watch my stress, and all you fucking do is add to it.”
Another contraction ripped through me, stealing my breath. I doubled over as tears streamed down my face. I didn’t know if the ambulance was caught in traffic or what, but I needed to get to the hospital, and now. Somehow, I was able to stand.
“Cay, you should sit back down.”
There was a concern in Orion’s tone that he didn’t have a while ago when he was trying to prove his weak ass point. When he was being petty, stomping all over my heart and shit.
“Shut the fuck up!” I growled.
I stumbled toward my truck. My hands were shaking so bad I could barely get the door open.
“Get me to the hospital,” I cried, my voice breaking. “Please… just drive.”
It was the least he could do, considering that all of this was his fault. The ride was a blur. The streetlights smeared into streaks of gold through my tears, and my nails dug into the seat with every wave of pain. All I could do was whisper prayers between sobs.
“Please, God… don’t take her from me. Not like this.”
The pain was too much to the point of being scary. I was early, so of course, I wondered if I was losing my baby instead of giving life to her. By the time we pulled up to the ER, nurses were already rushing with a wheelchair. On the ride, Orion had called the hospital himself to give them the heads-up. My legs were weak, and my body was trembling.
“She’s too early,” I gasped as they wheeled me inside. “I’m eight months… my baby’s not ready.”
The bright lights, the cold hallways, and the rush of medical voices all blurred together. I barely registered Orion’s shadow pacing outside the room while doctors worked around me. My world narrowed to pain, fear, and the sound of the fetal monitor racing against time.
Hours later, when the cries finally came, small, fragile, but alive, I broke completely.
“A girl,” the doctor said softly, laying the tiniest bundle I’d ever seen into an incubator.
At my last appointment, my doctor already told me that Oriana was small. Which I didn’t understand because I ate everything I laid eyes on. Tubes, wires, and machines all surrounded her, but she was here. When the nurses pushed the incubator over to my side, I pressed my hand to the glass while sobbing.
“Mommy’s here, baby. Mommy’s right here. I swear I’ll fight for you with everything in me.”
And in that moment, looking at her tiny chest rise and fall, I knew one thing for sure: I’d never let Orion’s chaos break us again. I delivered her early because of this bullshit. Before I gave birth, they were asking me if I wanted him in the room, and I told them no. Just looking at him caused my blood pressure to rise. I felt it. They allowed him in the room after everything was settled. At that point, I was too exhausted to even protest.
Chapter 16
Orion
Isat slouched in the corner of that cold-ass hospital room with my knee bouncing and my head in my hands. The beeping machines, the smell of disinfectant, Cayla lying in that bed, still mad at me, and the sight of how small our daughter looked all sat heavily on my chest. I ain’t never been this scared in my life.
When her water broke on those steps, my heart damn near stopped. I was out here fixated on trying to be petty, and in a blink, I almost lost everything. I had to watch through the damn hospital door as my own daughter was born because Cayla didn’t want shit to do with me. My nose was pressed against the rectangular window part of the door as our baby’s small cries erupted. After I was pushed away, I shot her best friend a text, letting her know the baby was born. She didn’t even text me back, but I knew she had gotten the message because her read receipts were on.
The door opened, and Zynea stormed in first, her heels clicking against the hospital’s tiled floor. Brandi followed close behind with her brown eyes scanning the room. It didn’t take them long to land on me.
“Cayla, oh my God!” Zynea rushed to her, hugging her carefully around the IVs. “You okay? And the baby?”
