Addicted After All(112)

He jumps to his feet before I can even utter a word.

“I think…I’m having contractions. I don’t know though.” I wince as the pain throbs from my back to my stomach. Like powerful, mutant cramps. Oh my God, these cramps have superpowers. How in the hell am I going to defeat them?

Lo acts swiftly. He grabs his cellphone, bypasses me to push the door open wider, and he calls down the hall, “Rose!”

“Don’t,” I start, shoving his arm. “She’s going to freak out.” I can’t even believe she was his first choice in comrade for this situation. Surely Ryke or Connor ranked higher on his list. But maybe he was thinking about my allegiance. And who I’d be most comfortable with.

He touches my shoulder in comfort, but he can’t reply to me, not when he’s on the phone. “Hi, this is Loren Hale,” he says into the receiver. “Can I speak to Dr. Dhar?”

Rose emerges from her bedroom quickly. She’s alone so I assume Daisy stayed with Jane.

“What’s wrong?” She scrutinizes our lingering presences in the doorway.

I hold my belly, my head dizzying a bit. “I don’t know.” It’s the truth. I have no clue if this is real or fake or something in between. That confusion and darkness frightens me the most.

“I’ll grab your bag,” Rose says, rushing into my bedroom. What bag? is my first thought. And then I remember: oh yeah, my hospital bag. The overnight one that Rose basically packed for me months ago. The perks of having an organized, slightly neurotic sister.

I bury my head in Lo’s chest while he continues to talk to the doctor. He rubs my back, and I grip onto his belt loops for support. Thank you, belt loops, for always being there for me.

I hear Rose from the depths of my room. “Connor and I are going to drop Jane off at Poppy’s! Daisy will fetch Ryke, and we’ll meet you at the hospital!”

No. I can’t be giving birth today.

Can I? I look up at Lo with squinted eyes.

And he nods in confirmation, like he can read my mind. But I know I wear all of my thoughts on my face for him to pick apart and see.

He’s not scared. Not as much as me. And the confidence that he’s built up for weeks and weeks blows straight through me. I try to hold onto it as tightly as I can, even if it’s just air breezing between my fingers. I try to breathe every little bit of it in. But the terrified bits of me are very, very strong.

I’m about to have a baby.

Oh God.





{ 34 }

LOREN HALE



Lily’s water broke while she was clinging to me. I got her to stop apologizing after we both took quick showers, and by that point, I could tell her pain overpowered her embarrassment—which for Lil means she’s really hurting.

We made it to the hospital without an emergency labor, and now that we’re in the delivery room, I’m positive I’ve glared at an entire staff of nurses on accident. Rose confirms it by saying I have a “bitchy” face. I just hate feeling helpless, having to watch Lil curve her arm around her eyes and shake in pain. It f*cking sucks.

And it reminds me of the earlier days of her recovery, back where I had to constantly tell her no and grasp her hands, so she stopped being compulsive. Where sex impaired her ability to be a normal, functioning person in society.

It’s a time that I don’t ever want to return to.

Six hours and an epidural later, Lily finally eases. Like she’s ready to float away. I comb my fingers through her hair, preferring her drugged up than in agony.

I could tell that she wanted the meds, but the nurses gave her a hard time about it. Saying things about how recovering addicts should try the all-natural birth. It took all three of us—Rose, Ryke and me—to try and quiet the nurses and convince Lily to listen to what she wanted. She’s terrified. Of doing something wrong. Of hurting our son by a choice she makes. People shouldn’t make her feel guilty for wanting an easier birth.

On the hospital bed, she smiles dazedly up at me. I sit on the mattress close to her and can’t restrain my own smile at her cute expression. “Feeling better?”

She relaxes into her pillow like she’s sinking into a cloud. “I love the hot-tempered triad.”

I have no idea what she’s talking about. “The what?”

The door blows open, and my father enters the luxury birthing suite, sipping a coffee. He’s been in and out all day, just walking around the hospital like a lost soul. His dark eyes flit between me and Lil. “See, I thought one day this would happen. I told Greg that you’d knock her up around seventeen.”