Drew + Fable Forever (One Week Girlfriend #3.5)(33)

See? The odds were completely stacked against me. Yet somehow, I made it. I got there in time. Even with Fable telling me she was dilated at nine centimeters and was starting to feel the urge to push, I told her to hold off as long as she could. I wanted to be there.

I needed to be there. To get so close and miss it would crush me. No way could I let that happen.

The driver drove like a bat out of hell, zipping through traffic and getting us to the hospital in record time. I gave the guy a two-hundred-dollar bonus, raining twenties on the front seat before I jumped out of the car with a hurried thank you and ran toward the entrance of the hospital. Owen had already told me what room Fable was in and I went to the elevator, practically hopping up and down while I waited for it to arrive.

This is f**king it. Our lives are changing as we know it, at this very moment. We’re going to be parents. Our daughter is going to be born.

I’m so nervous and excited I can hardly stand it.

Fable

He made it. I’ve never been happier to see his face, to see his smile and smell him as he rushes into my room, coming right to my side so he can drop a kiss on my forehead and grab my hand. The doctor is there, accompanied by the nurse, and my legs are spread, my knees bent as I’m in position to get ready to push.

“You’re here,” I breathe as Drew kisses me and whispers that he loves me.

The doctor sends us a stern glance, her gaze flickering to the monitor that’s keeping track of the baby’s heart rate. “A contraction is coming. You need to get ready to push, Fable.”

I grip Drew’s hand hard and squeeze, bending forward, my chin practically pressing into my belly as I feel the contraction come on, big and strong. I breathe and push all at once, doing what the doctor told me earlier, trying my best to get this baby out of me.

I’m desperate to meet her. Hold her. Cuddle her close.

“Good job, baby,” Drew encourages, his mouth close to my ear. “You can do this. You’ve got this.”

I stop pushing on a sob and lean my head back against the stack of pillows. I close my eyes on a grimace, my hair sticky with sweat and plastered to my forehead and cheeks. Drew pushes the hair out of my face, tucks it behind my ears, and I crack open my eyes to find him looking right at me, his blue eyes full of love.

“You’re doing great,” he murmurs.

“I’m exhausted,” I confess. My entire body feels weak. I don’t know if I can keep this up much longer.

“A couple more pushes and you’ll have a baby in your arms,” the doctor promises and I let out a little groan, closing my eyes again.

“Oh God, the pressure,” I say, and Drew laughs.

“Focus on me, baby.” I open my eyes to find his expression has gone serious, my hand clutched tight in his as he brings it up to his mouth and kisses my knuckles. “Listen to the doc. Only a couple more pushes and she’s here. You can do that, right?”

“I can,” I agree weakly with a nod.

“I know you can. So let’s do this.”

The contraction comes again, bigger this time, and the baby’s heart rate increases. I focus on the sound of my girl’s heart and push with all my might. The doctor says the head is out and Drew lets go of my hand to go look, his eyes wide and his face pale as he stares. I start to laugh because the entire moment is so freaking surreal, and I can’t help but wonder if he’s ever going to look at my lady parts in the same way again.

Well. That’s a sobering thought.

But yeah, I can’t focus on that now. I’m giving birth to a baby, for the love of the God.

“One more push and she’s here,” the doctor advises with a small smile. “Get ready, Fable.”

Drew is back at my side, gripping my hand, his sole focus on me. “Ready to meet her?”

I nod, so overcome with emotion I press my lips together to hold back the sob. I’m beyond ready to meet her. And she’s beyond ready to meet us if the next contraction is any indication, because it’s a doozy.

“Push!” the doctor yells, and I do. I push so hard I can feel the baby slithering out of me. “She’s here!”

Within seconds she starts to wail and so do I, relief and love and exhaustion flooding me all at once. Drew kisses me, tells me he loves me, and then the doctor is asking him to cut the umbilical cord and he does, looking nervous as he takes the surgical scissors and snips it. The nurse hands him the baby and he holds her like a football. She looks so tiny, his big hand sprawled around the back of her head, and he brings her to me, a dopey smile on his face as he presents our daughter to me for the first time.

“Want to hold her, Mama?” he asks.

I tug the hospital gown down so my chest is exposed and Drew settles her there, her little face smashed against me. Her hair is black, her body red, and she makes these weird snorting noises as she noses around my breast. “She’s perfect,” I whisper, touching her head, smoothing her downy soft hair with the tip of my index finger.

“Yeah, she is.” He stares down at the two of us in wonder. “I can’t believe she’s here.”

“I can’t believe you made it,” I say, grabbing my daughter’s hand and touching her fingers. They’re so tiny, so perfectly formed, and I glance up at Drew, tears shining in my eyes. I can barely see him but I notice tears are shining in his eyes, too. “I love you,” I whisper, my throat raw, my heart swelling.