Page 143 of Love What's Left
She gives a slight shake of her head and moves out of the way. “They’re waiting for you, but you need to get some chill first. She needs you to be calm and in control.”
I straighten my spine and blow out a slow breath. Calm. In control. Zero issues here.
I mentally shake myself. That last thought was a stupid one. I did too much research. I know too many horrible things that can happen. And no matter what, my wife is about to be in a hell of a lot of pain. My slow breath turns into straight-up hyperventilation.
Annabel laughs and demonstrates with her hand in front of her chest. “Deep, slow breaths. One more. Last chance before you’re the one in there helping her stay cool.”
I take two more slow breaths. “I’m a rock.”
She visibly suppresses her smile. “You certainly are.”
I turn the unlocked doorknob and step inside the apartment. Other than the walls and windows being in the same locations, everything else is different. Sydney sold it to Janessa within a week of moving her things upstairs. Six months ago, Josh moved in with Janessa. They’ve been married now for six weeks. I was his best man.
The timeline was ridiculously fast.
But knowing we had a doctor three floors down for this pregnancy has been a relief. Even with tracking Sydney’s ovulation, it took a few months for her to get pregnant, and I hadanxietyover it. Then I was nervous about the pregnancy itself. Josh keeps reminding me he isn’t an ob-gyn and to “Ask her doctor.”
Which I do, also.Obviously. But it never hurts to have another professional’s opinion.
Sydney sits sprawled on their sofa, her huge baby belly hard as a rock with the cutest outie belly button showing through her white shirt. Josh has his phone out with the stopwatch running, and Janessa sits next to Sydney, holding her hand.
Crouching in front of my wife, I place a gentle hand on her tight belly and tease, “Exactly one day after filing your patents on the sealant. Suspicious timing, Dr. Walsh McRae.”
“Who would do that on purpose?” Her face scrunches, and she bares her teeth in pain. “The whole point of working those hours and not”—she grunts, then catches her breath—“starting a new project yet was so I could nest at home for two weeks before our baby arrived.”
“She appears to have a mind of her own. Just like someone else I know.” I brush her hair away from her face. “Whatever you want done, you tell me. I’ll make sure everything is perfect.”
She nods, panting.
“Slow breath. In. In. And blow it out,” I say.
We breathe together. Her shoulders relax as the tightness passes.
“How far apart are the contractions?” I ask.
Sydney glances at Josh, and he shows us both his phone screen. “Five minutes and lasting for a minute each.”
So much closer than I expected them to be. “Dave is bringing the car around. He has your hospital bag in the car. Let’s go,” I say.
Sydney gives me a look of utter disgust. “I’m trapped here. I tried to get up, but I’m like a turtle stuck on its back with my arms and legs flailing.”
Do not laugh.Do not.
She taps my bicep. “You think that’s funny.”
“Is there a correct answer to that question? I will answer it in any way that makes you happy,” I say.
She heaves a sigh. “It’s funny. Get me out of here.”
I lean forward. “Hold on to me. I’ll help you.”
Sydney puts her arms around my neck, and I heave her to stand.
“It’s just that their sofa is really low. I could get up on my own, otherwise. It’s an abnormally short sofa,” Sydney says.
“I know. I’ll kick that sofa’s ass for you later,” I soothe.
“Hey,” Janessa interjects, “it’s a lovely piece of mid-century modern furniture.”
