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Cyrille rests her head sympathetically on my shoulder. “Hey now! It’s too early to give up.”
“I know, I know, you’re right. He actually gave me my phone back last night. So that’s a win.”
“He did not!”
I nod. “He didn’t make the delivery himself, obviously. He had Rada hand it over. Such menial tasks are beneath Don Orlov’s station.”
She grins and nudges me with an elbow. “All hail the Golden One. Still, it’s a big gesture, especially given how controlling Misha can be. It shows he wants to make you happy. You just—”
I gasp mid-sentence, jerking upright as a shooting pain sears through my side. “Ow.”
“What was that?” Cyrille asks. “Are you okay?”
I take a deep breath. “Um, I’m not sure. I just felt—oh God,shit…!”
Tears of pain prick at the corners of my eyes as I lean forward, trying to find a comfortable position. Everything hurts, like there’s a hot sun burning me from the inside out.
“Paige? Paige, honey, talk to me!”
“Something really hurts,” I manage to choke out. “C-can you call Dr. Mathers?”
Cyrille rushes out of the room, and I try to stay calm. But I replay everything I’ve done in the last twenty-four hours. Did I run too hard? Maybe the swimming was too much exertion.
Are my babies okay?
Are my babies okay?
I’m close to a full-on meltdown when Cyrille rushes back into the room. “Stay put and try to breathe, hon. Simone is on her way.”
I hold my stomach as though I have the power to heal whatever is happening right now. “That hurts so bad, Cy. It almost feels like I’m going into labor. But that’s not possible. Right?”
Cyrille frowns. “It could just be false labor. Hurts like a bitch, but it’s normal. Let’s just stay calm until Simone gets here, okay?”
I wince in pain and nod. Words are beyond me as the next wave of pain crashes down hard.
“Don’t worry,” Cyrille says, grabbing my hand. “I’m right here.”
I give her a shaky smile. I am glad that she’s with me. I couldn’t be more grateful for her support. But there are moments when you just need your husband.
This is one of them.
* * *
“Are you sure?” I ask for the tenth time. I’m still clutching my pendant like prayer beads. I haven’t let go of it since Dr. Mathers arrived.
Dr. Mathers nods. “I’m positive. Braxton Hicks is perfectly normal. It’s just your body preparing itself for the birth.”
“But I’m still months away from having these babies.”
“True, but stress can sometimes aggravate your body. You’ve been through a lot recently.”
I breathe slowly. “You can say that again.”
Before I can ask Dr. Mathers my follow-up questions, the door bursts open and the monster himself storms in. He’s dressed for the office in dark slacks and an ivory-colored button down, but the tornado in his eyes looks ready for war.
“Where is she?” he barks, spinning around the room.
I raise my hand. “Right here.”
