The Russian Billionaire’s Secret(120)

But as time went by, I realized that I had to get over this feeling, because this was probably going to be the rest of my life. It wasn’t just me going into labor and giving birth without him, but it was the first thing he would miss; then it would be the children’s first cries, first smiles, first steps, etc. He would miss many milestones in their lives.

So, after waiting for Kurt to call or text me for a week, I tried putting myself in his shoes, and that is when I understood that he must be actually busy; he was probably involved in some serious operation, because there was nothing else that explained how anyone could ignore their pregnant girlfriend just like that.

I didn’t text him during the first week because I wanted to see whether he would get in touch with me or not, but after that I didn’t text him because I did not want to worry him. I did not know where he was, and I definitely did not want to make things difficult for him. I knew in my heart that he would come, if he could come. I had seen the happiness and the sparkle in his eyes when he found out I was pregnant, those tears in his eyes were not fake, so I knew he would have come as soon as he could. For his own children, if not for me. On my part, I decided to be strong and march on as well as I could.

I realize it is nearly 2 in the morning, and even though I am off work, I decide to go back to bed. I rub my huge belly and whisper to my unborn kids, “It’s going to be all right.” I get hunger pangs as I pass the dining table and head to the fridge instead for a little midnight snack. The moment I open the fridge, water splashes on the floor.

“Damn it, Jackson,” I say, cursing him for putting the bottle carelessly in the fridge. Except that there is no water bottle in the fridge or on the floor. My lungs suddenly crave oxygen and I draw in a huge breath, realizing that my water just broke. I immediately pick my phone and send a message to Kurt:

“MY WATER JUST BROKE!!!”

And instantly wish I hadn’t.

“Sorry, I panicked. I’ll be alright, Kurt. Don’t worry about me, Jackson is with me.”

I know my doctor told me to wait if my water breaks, that the contractions normally follow soon, but I ring her anyway. She assures me that everything is fine and to call her in fifteen minutes to check with her again if my contractions don’t start. I walk around in the kitchen for about a minute or two, wondering whether or not it’s too soon to wake Jackson up. I draw in another breath and tell myself to calm down, and decide that I’ll wake him up as soon as the contractions begin, even though that might be too early as well. And right after I tell myself that, I head straight to Jackson’s room and turn on the lights.

Jackson squints, trying to see, raising his eyebrow quizzically like he does.

“Everything alright, Ver, what is it?”

“I am in…ah” my contractions begin. “I am in labor, Jackson.”

“Let’s head to the hospital,” he says, jumping out of bed.

“No, wait, it’s too soon.”

“Let’s not take any risks, Ver,” he says, concerned.

“No, this is normal. It’s gonna be a while before we head to the hospital.”

Jackson sits me down in his bed and fetches me a glass of milk, all the while comforting me and trying to calm me down. It’s as if a bomb has gone off in my brain, my thoughts running wild, my mind going crazy, only to be occasionally disturbed by a contraction.

Jackson winces every time I have a contraction, feeling more in labor than myself it seems. And I keep thinking how Kurt would be right now, wincing or comforting me if he were here. I try to push Kurt out of my mind but fail. It doesn’t help when Jackson asks me about Kurt. I shake my head and he stays quiet, although wide-eyed and looking worried. It reminds me of how Jackson was every time I fell ill when we were kids, and now here I was, having kids of my own.

About 3 hours pass like this, with Jackson bringing me water, milk, and juices, and me drinking and relieving myself frequently. The contractions become quicker.

“Jackson, I think it’s time, we should head to the hospital,” I say.

“Sure, let’s go,” he says, but looks at the door. I know he too wishes Kurt were here for me right now.

“Aaahhhh, JACKSON,” I scream, grabbing him by the collar, “TAKE ME TO THE HOSPITAL RIGHT NOW OR I SWEAR I WILL KILL YOU.”

Jackson starts sweating.

“Wait outside, let me get the car out.” He says, heading out, then turns around quickly, “Do you need me to walk you out first?”

“JACKSON,” I say, breathing heavily, “CAR! NOW!”

The pain has pushed Kurt completely out of my mind. Jackson rushes out the door to get the car, and I slowly walk to the main door. He brings out the car and gets out of it quickly to help me get in.

“Relax, Ver, relax,” he says in a panicky and calm voice, “you are scaring the hell out of me.”

“I am scaring the hell out of you?” I almost scream, “try giving birth and see how pleasant the sensation is.”

He drives and I yell at him to drive more carefully. He slows down and I yell at him to drive fast.

“Jackson, the babies are coming and I’ll have them in your damned car if you don’t drive faster!”

Jackson is sweating almost as much as I am. Tough as he is, he has never been in a position or situation like this.

We reach the hospital and a nurse helps me into a wheelchair.