Emma just looks, well, like she’s having a baby. Panting, sweating, writhing around and breathing hard. Trying to keep herself controlled and listening to him, looking to him for direction, putting all her trust and faith in him that he will get her through this, and I suddenly feel overly emotional. Looking at Arrick and knowing I would need that of him, I do always need that of him.

Emma suddenly arches her back and groans like a wild animal and Jake reaches out to Arrick’s dumped pile of towels and grabs a few, pulling them back between her legs on the floor and creating a nest of absorbency. Intent on what he’s doing, oblivious to our presence, not that either of us is worth anything right now.

“Push, baby... the head right here. Just a little push and we get this one out. Fastest birth ever, Bambino.” Emma makes a horrible grunty, groany, almost scream-like noise, that has me screwing up my face in complete traumatization; mentally telling myself that I never want to do this, ever. It’s awful.

I only become aware of Arrick’s arm around my back when his breath hits my cheek. I realize we’re both cuddled close and watching the same thing, except he too seems totally freaked out now that I am not focusing on him to keep me sane.

Arrick, with an expression of utter horror and all ounces of facial control gone. It’s so not him at all, so unexpected that I let out an inappropriate giggle and it seems to catch his attention as, he throws me that ‘don’t even’ look, before nodding down at the sodden mess of ‘yuck’ I’m dressed in. I grimace and shake it off, giving up with dabbing the irreparable and watch Jake and Emma instead.

She grunts and arches again before lifting her head, curling forward like she’s trying to do an ab crunch and seems to go into serious constipation face. Her cheeks turning rosy red, her breath held, and stays that way for seconds. Crunching, grunting, God knows what? I only imagine pushing.

girl.” Jake encourages. From this angle, I can’t see anything but calves under her hitched-up dress; his hands are definitely

out. Breathe.” Jake is very calm, despite me assuming he would fall to shit. The master of command at

biting on my lip as nerves and anxiety for my beloved Emma hit me hard in the gut. Nausea overwhelms me, hands go back to shaking

hand in my hold, to make a better fit,

would probably befit a scene from the exorcist, and sends shivers down my spine. Jake is curled forward, his butt on the floor and legs either side as he gets as low as he can, face fully focused under her dress and a look of

a way I do not want to know about. Emma grunts and then suddenly a weird noise, like spluttering, choking, softly hits home. I completely freak out, turning into Arrick’s chest and cover my face with my palms. A million thoughts racing through

bleed out, with babies born not breathing and they can’t revive

around me, despite the disgusting dampness between us, blocking it all out to squeeze myself against his chest until this is over. I don’t want her to die. I don’t want baby Ava to die. I want this to be over and everyone fine and

Emma so much, and I would die if anything happened to her. Please keep

in close. His breath in the crook of my neck where my shoulder meets. He just encircles me tightly, breathing

runs fingertips over my skin. His other arm so tight around my waist and pulling me to him in a truly intimate hug that has us entangled firmly. “Sophs, it’s over... Open your eyes and look. She’s okay, the

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