“Promise?”
“Cross my heart.”
She locked her jaw and nodded, her nails digging into my palm. “I can do this.”
A guttural cry tore out of her.
It almost didn’t sound human.
Fuck.
The agony in her voice left a dent in my heart that would last a lifetime. I’d experienced some pretty horrible things in my time on this earth. But this was gruesome even for me.
I’d always heard that the pain of childbirth was on a different level, but I never truly understood what that meant. Being present in this room and witnessing all the pain my wife had to endure broke something in me.
Her screams shattered my heart, leaving me scared and confused. If I had my way, I would trade places with her this instant and go through this pain for her. The suffering was way too intense for someone whose only crime was wanting to give life.
Fuck.
My stomach had never twisted the way it did today, and that terrified me.
The more they encouraged her to push, the more she strained her body. I wasn’t the one on the bed, but I could feel her pain. I’d sincerely give anything to take her place right now. Anything at all.
“It hurts, Nial, it hurts…” she cried out, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Make it stop, please.”
“Doctor, do something!” I barked at him.
“She has to push, Mr. Tarasov,” he said, his voice calm but laced with a hint of urgency. “I can almost see the baby’s head.”
“You hear that, my love?” I caressed her face. “They can almost see the baby’s head.” I beamed at her, my tone reassuring.
“I’m tired,” she whispered.
“I know, but you can’t give up now,” I said, staring into her eyes. “Just breathe with me.” I drew a deep breath: in through my nose, out through my mouth.
She did the same, her chest rising and falling as she mimicked me.
“Good,” I whispered to her. “Very good.”
“Don’t let go of my hand.”
“I won’t,” I promised.
She inhaled deeply, then began releasing short, rapid breaths as if preparing herself.
The next sound that came out of her wasn’t a scream at first but a low, guttural groan. Veins lined her forehead, and her face turned red as the sound was ripped out of her chest like something primal.
My heart sank just by watching her suffer, unable to do anything to help.
She threw her head back on the pillow as a ragged scream exploded out of her. Her voice, dripping with sheer agony, tore through the room, making my stomach twist.
“Almost there!” the doctor announced, anticipation lacing his tone.
Her screams intensified, more terrifying by the second. She held on tightly to my hand like her life depended on it, and I refused to let go.
“You’re doing great, sweetheart,” I said. “It’s almost over—just a little longer.”
“Ghhh…!” she growled, as though lifting something impossibly heavy.
