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My girl looks up at me in fear, and I give her an encouraging smile, knowing she’s got this. She’s the most incredible woman I know.

“Okay, Brianna. It’s time. Let’s go,” Dr. Thompson says. “Push.”

Taking a deep breath, Bri pushes with everything she has, squeezing my hand so fucking hard, I think it might be broken. Her beautiful eyes disappear behind clenched lids, listening to Dr. Thompson as she counts down from ten, coaching her through it.

“Fuck,” Bri grunts, tears of agony spilling down her flushed cheeks as she’s allowed a quick moment to catch her breath.

“Good job, Brianna,” Dr. Thompson says. “Let’s go again. Another push.”

Her chest heaves, but being the strong woman I know she is, she keeps it up. She squeezes my hand harder, and I find myself mentally pushing with her. “Come on, baby. You’re a fucking rockstar. You’re doing great.”

“SHUT UP!” she growls mid-push.

Gigi takes over the countdown and the contraction finishes, giving Bri a small break to catch her breath. I scramble, not knowing how to help her, so I stay in my zone, pressing the cool cloth to her forehead and trying to mop up her tears.

She looks up at me, and the agony in her stare cuts me to shreds. “I can’t do this, Carter,” she says, shaking her head as more tears fall. “It hurts too much. I can’t.”

“You can,” I insist, using a firmer tone, knowing how she needs it. “Think of those babies. You’re at the finish line, Bri, and then you get to hold your children. You’re right there. You’ve got this.”

“The head is ready to come through, Brianna. Another push on the next contraction should have the head out, but I’m going to need a big one,” Dr. Thompson instructs. “Once you get past this, the hard part is done.”

Curiosity gets the best of me, and I inch down the side of the bed, peering over the stirrups, and what I see . . . fuck. I’ll never be the same. My eyes widen, and I feel the color drain from my face. “Goddamn, babe,” I say, giving Bri’s hand a gentle squeeze.

Yep, I’m definitely gonna pass out.

Giving birth is the most natural thing a human body can do, and yet it’s fucking gross. I know it’s my baby down there, but fuck. I need to build Bri a fucking castle after this. Shit, no. That’s not enough. Does she need an island? What about a whole fucking country?

“Carterrrrrr,” Bri groans. “Don’t look.”

I get back to my position beside her and lean down to her face, a smirk pulling at the corner of my lips as I gently kiss her forehead. “You want me to take a photo, don’t you?”

She meets my gaze, her eyes sparkling. “Yeah, kinda.”

“You filthy little animal, you!”

Bri laughs and breathes heavily again, feeling another contraction coming on. “I saw his head, baby,” I tell her, saying the one thing I know will give her the motivation to tear her body apart. “He has dark hair, just like me.”

“Really?” she questions, those tears still swelling in her eyes.

“Yeah, babe. He’s ready to come out.”

Bri’s bottom lip wobbles, and I know she’d rather be doing anything else than going through this pain, but she nods at the doctor and searches for my hand. I grab hold of it and she squeezes tight as one of the midwives gets in on the action with my phone, recording every moment for Bri to watch back, hopefully as a reminder when she starts wanting more.

“The contraction is coming,” she tells the doctor.

“Right, let’s do this, Brianna,” she encourages. “Big push. Let’s get his head out.”

Bri takes a massive breath and pushes with all she’s got, her face turning a brilliant shade of red. I can see the pain written all over her, and I know she is dying to scream, but she’s holding it in, pushing through the pain.

Gigi continues counting, and the speed at which she counts makes me want to shove her out of the way and take over. Can’t she see my woman is in pain? Count faster.

Bri lets out an agonized grunt, and I realize this is it, the head is coming. “Good job, Brianna,” Dr. Thompson encourages over Gigi’s counting. “You’re doing it. Keep it going. You’re nearly there.”

Bri screams, and then suddenly she stops, letting out a loud gasp. “You did it, Brianna,” Dr. Thompson says. “You can stop there. Take a breath. You got the head out. You got through the hardest part.”

“Really?” she questions, breathless, her gaze flicking to mine, and fuck it, I have to have another look.

Getting my ass straight to the end of the bed, I drop my gaze between my girl’s legs and feel my fucking heart explode in my chest. “Holy fuck,” I breathe as I see my child looking up at me with those big blue eyes. “That’s crazy.”

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