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A soft smile spreads across my face at the memory. “Actually, he was wonderful about it. I was so nervous, scared of how he would react, especially with everything going on in his life. But when I told him, he was just... perfect.”
Sarah’s eyes sparkle. “Perfect? Do elaborate!”
“He was surprised, of course, but then he was incredibly supportive,” I explain. “He reassured me, promised to be there every step of the way. I just wish I’d told him sooner.”
“Told you!” She reaches across the table, giving my hand a gentle squeeze. “That’s because you found someone who truly loves you for who you are, and that’s rare.”
“He’s been my rock through all of this. And he’s already so protective of the baby. He talks to my belly every night before we sleep.”
Sarah chuckles. “That’s so sweet. He’s going to be a great father.”
I nod, feeling a sense of contentment. “I think so too. He’s more than I ever hoped for in a partner.”
“But it’s time for more important talk.”
“What about?”
“Deciding which band is going to play at your wedding.”
16
DOMINIC
Seven months later…
Isabella is lost in the throes of labor. I’m at her side, holding her hand, feeling a profound sense of awe and helplessness.
It’s a stark contrast to the control and power I’m accustomed to in my world. I can do nothing to ease her pain and it’s killing me.
Sarah is also in the room, ready with snacks and words of encouragement.
Her presence adds a layer of warmth and familiarity, easing the tension slightly. The few times I was busy during the pregnancy, Sarah was there for her friend.
The labor room is a whirlwind of activity, the tension palpable in the air. Isabella, with her face etched in pain and determination, grips my hand tightly.
“Isabella, you’re doing amazing,” I tell her, my voice attempting to sound calm and reassuring, though inside, I’m a tumult of concern and helplessness. “If killing a doctor would take the pain away, I’d do it in a heartbeat.”
The medics give each other anxious looks as Isabella manages a weak smile. “So romantic. Maybe some more pain relief would do the trick.”
“Pain relief, now!” I roar to the medics who scurry around me as Isabella takes my hand.
“Calm down or you’ll get thrown out.”
“They wouldn’t dare.”
“They might not but I will. I don’t want doctors scared for their lives working on me. Cool it.” She gives me a weak smile and my love for her grows even stronger.
As the hours drag on, her labor intensifies, her pain becoming more pronounced. Sarah, ever the supportive friend, is by her side, offering water and words of encouragement.
Her presence is a comfort, yet I can’t shake off the feeling of helplessness.
Watching Isabella in such distress, a protective instinct, fierce and raw, surges within me.
I turn towards the doctors, my voice laced with a menacing edge. “Do something about the pain. She’s suffering too much. You have to make it stop.”
Isabella, through her exhaustion and pain, looks at me with a mixture of love and exasperation. “They’re doing everything they can.”
As the tension in the labor room reaches its peak, I stand by Isabella’s side, feeling a tumultuous mix of emotions. Her grip on my hand is both fierce and reassuring, a lifeline between us as she endures the final stages of labor.
