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Only their eyes met and she forgot to breathe again. This time for a totally different reason. Not from pain, but because of love.
James’s eyes worshiped her, looked at her with such raw emotion that she suspected any wall he’d ever had had crumbled beyond repair.
Was it because of the baby? Was that why he looked that way? Had to be.
She searched his gaze, looking for answers to her heart’s questions and afraid to hope, to dream.
“Tell me again, Melissa,” he demanded in a hoarse whisper.
“Tell you what?” she asked, feeling the first new twinges of muscles pulling in her back and abdomen, signaling the onset of another contraction.
“That you wish you’d married me.”
Fighting the rising tension in her muscles, she did. “I wish I’d come home that night, that you’d been here to give me that ring. I wish you’d never left, because I need you.” Her words came out as pant
s now. “I want to be your wife. Always.”
What did it matter what she was telling him? Any moment she was going to die from the pain. It cut so deep she knew there was no way she’d survive. If she was going to die, she wanted James to know the truth.
“More than that,” she gasped, focused on pushing downward, using the contraction to make her efforts more effective. Quick pants. Hard pushes. “I want you to be my husband,” she panted.
“Melissa.”
The raw emotion with which he said her name forced her eyes to open, to stay locked with his.
“I’ve been yours since the moment we met.”
What was he saying?
A huge pressure shot forth, seeming to split her insides, and she cried out.
Oh, God.
“You did good, Sweetheart, but don’t push,” James ordered, no longer looking at her but working between her legs. “The baby’s head’s out.”
Although she knew he was moving between her legs, she no longer felt anything, just focused on the pressure inside her.
“Beautiful,” James murmured, clearing the baby’s throat. “Absolutely beautiful. With the next contraction, Melissa. Just one more.”
Hadn’t he already said that?
But there was no time to think, because the tight band around her stomach yanked again. She dropped back, her spine arching, her body intent on expelling the pressure, on easing her burden.
“James, I can’t do this,” she cried.
“You can, honey. Just a little more. Give a big push. Now.”
She did, feeling a rush of pressure and fluid and like her body had turned inside out.
“You did it, Melissa.” His voice choked up. She strained her neck, trying to see.
A startled, unhappy wail burst through Melissa’s chest, grabbed her heart, and clenched.
Her eyes met James’s shining ones, but only briefly as he continued checking the baby.
“Apgar score is ten.” A perfect score. “Meet your daughter.” He cradled the still-attached-by-the-umbilical-cord baby in his arms.
Daughter?
