Satin Princess(120)

“Everything okay?” she asks.

“Only you would ask me that while you’re in labor.”

She smiles. “Well, is it?”

“Everything’s fine. I don’t want you to worry about any of that, okay? I’ve got it handled.”

“Okay,” she sighs.

I snort quietly. I trust her acceptance there about as far as I can throw her, but now is not the time to press the issue.

“How are you feeling?”

“Tired,” she admits. “The contractions are coming closer to… together now… fuck, owww.”

“Move forward,” I instruct her. “Let me massage your back.”

I sit right behind her and she settles between my legs. I massage the bottom of her spine and she sighs with a wordless murmur.

She sags against me, and I think she’s asleep. Until the next contraction starts. Then she grabs my hand with freakish strength and groans.

Dr. Mathers comes towards us. “We’re almost there, Jessa. Are you ready to start pushing?”

“God, yes,” she says fervently. “I’m so done with being pregnant.”

“Let’s get this show on the road then,” Dr. Mathers says.

“Can Anton stay behind me?” she asks.

“If that’s where you want him to be, then yes.”

I wasn’t exactly prepared for this to happen right this second. But my eyes are locked on the doctor as she parts Jessa’s legs and then disappears between them.

“This is so fucking weird,” I mutter.

Jessa laughs, but her laughter dies on another contraction.

“Okay, Jessa, I’m gonna need you to push through the pain, got it?”

“Owww!”

“Jessa, screaming isn't gonna help you. Just push.”

“I’ve got you,” I whisper in her ear.

She clenches. I can feel her entire body flex and heave. She screams through gritted teeth and Dr. Mathers resurfaces.

“Good, Jessa,” she says. “You’re doing well. On the next contraction, we’ll push again.”

Jessa takes long, slow breaths. In no time at all, another contraction takes hold of her. I twine my fingers through hers and squeeze as she pushes again.

“Excellent, Jessa,” Dr. Mathers says. “One more push. The baby is crowning now.”

Ninety seconds later, another contraction comes. Jessa screams through the final push. Then her screams die off and the room falls into silence.

Until it’s broken by a high-pitched wail.

Jessa trembles against me. I can’t see her face, but I know she’s crying, so I just wrap her up in my arms and let her breathe through it.

“Is… is… the baby… okay?” she asks between gasps.

Dr. Mathers and two of the nurses circle around Jessa. I can’t even see the baby.

“Let’s just get the little one cleaned up for you,” one of the nurses says.

Jessa leans against my shoulder. “What do you think?” she whispers. “Boy or girl?”

“Lev has five grand that says it’s a boy.”

Jessa’s eyebrows shoot up on her forehead, but she’s too exhausted to much more than limply swat at my chest.

“Here we go, Mom and Dad,” Dr. Mathers says, handing us a tiny little bundle. “It’s time to meet your daughter.”

“Oh my God,” Jessa gasps. “A girl…”

I can practically feel the love in every word she utters. Her arms reach out and Dr. Mathers places the bundle in them.

And as Jessa pulls the soft green blanket to her chest, I see my daughter for the first time.

She’s small and rosy-cheeked. Her eyes are closed, but she mewls every so often, clearly annoyed with being wrenched from her warm, dark home of the last nine months.

“Anton,” Jessa whispers, “are you seeing this?”

I smile and stroke her hair. “I’m seeing this.”

“She looks like you.”

“Please. She’s beautiful. Clearly, she takes after you.”

Jessa gives a laugh that’s half a sob. “I can’t believe she’s finally here. Our daughter.”

I hug Jessa as she hugs our girl. It feels like a full circle moment. This is the journey to fatherhood I was always meant to have. With the woman I was always meant to love.

Since the moment Marina’s body was dumped in an unmarked grave in the middle of nowhere, I put the past in the rearview mirror. I spare her a thought now—if only to remember how bad things once were and how wonderful they are now.

I kiss the back of Jessa’s head. “We need to come up with a name.”

“Right. We’ve been so busy moving in that I completely lost track of my name list.”

“You have a name list?”

“No, that’s the point,” she laughs.

“Okay, well what are your suggestions?” I look down at my daughter and brush a finger across her cheek. She’s so damn soft that I have to touch her again.

She smiles. “I don’t care. I just want a name that suits her.”

“Nikita?”

Jessa considers it for a moment. “Doesn’t feel quite right.”

“Polina?”