“No, I’d really like to go. Just promise me…promise you won’t let anyone spike my drink.”
His grip tightens around the pen. For once, he meets my gaze and holds it, none of the usual sliding away. “Novalee…I would never let?—”
The chiming of his cellphone shatters the moment.
A quick glance at the screen lifts his brows. “It’s Landon.” Swiping to answer, he listens for a few seconds before his eyes widen. “Elise is in labor.”
My sketchbook slips from my lap. “Now?”
He’s up before I can move, shrugging into his coat. “Grab what you need. I’ll tell the driver we’re leaving for the hospital.”
12
The hospital corridor is a blur of white and beige. My heels tap a hurried rhythm against the polished floor, slowing only as I round the corner, and that’s when I spot Landon leaning against the wall outside Elise’s room. As Hugo and I approach, my brother lifts his chin, exhaustion shadowing the relief that flashes in his green eyes.
“Thanks for coming,” he says, scrubbing a palm over his face.
“Of course.” I go to him on instinct and wrap my arms around his middle. “How is she?”
“She’s having a hard time.” His breath shudders against my hair. “She screamed at me to leave her alone. I was only trying to be there for her.” Hurt and fear fracture his voice. “She’s in so much pain, but she refuses to take anything for it. I don’t know what to do.”
“I’m sure she didn’t mean it.” I tighten my hold on him. “She’s just scared and in pain.”
He eases back, eyes raw and red-rimmed. “Maybe you should go in. I know she wants you there, no matter what she says.”
I nod and push the door open as Hugo stations himself a few feet from Landon.
The room is dim, the only light coming from a muted lamp near the bed. Soft music drifts through the space while Elise lies propped against the pillows, her skin pale and slick with sweat, blonde hair plastered to her temples.
Wide baby-blue eyes meet mine, and a sob breaks free. “Novalee.”
I’m at her side before she can utter another word. “I’m here. It’s going to be okay.”
“It’s not.” She gasps, breaths coming in sharp pants. “I can’t…I can’t get my breath.”
Clasping her hand, I give it a gentle squeeze. “Breathe with me, okay?” I draw an exaggerated breath, and she mimics it. “Good. Now out.”
We breathe together until her grip on my hand loosens and a fragile calm settles over her. Then her whole body tenses, and a low groan tears from her lips.
Time seems to bend.
I stay with her through contraction after contraction, each one building the same way, with her fingers crushing mine as that low groan climbs toward a cry. I breathe with her, counting her through each wave until it finally releases her.
The reprieves grow shorter. She trembles between the crests, her hair soaked through, her breaths never quite catching up.
The midwife enters and checks the monitor. “They’re stacking right on top of each other now. Baby’s ready. It’s almost time to push.”
“I can’t.” Elise shakes her head. “I’m not ready!”
“You can do this.” My attention darts to the door. “Do you want Landon?”
“Oh, my God. I was so mean to him.” Tears well up, almost spilling over. “I need him.”
“One husband coming right up.” I’m already moving toward the hall. The instant I poke my head out, Landon stops mid-pace and whips toward me.
“How is she?”
“She’s asking for you. It’s time.”