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“I was worried about you.”
“I’m so fucking sorry, Princess,” he said, burying his nose in my hair. “I’m sorry I ever doubted you. I’m sorry for ever making you feel less than. I’m sorry I made you fire me. But most of all, I’m sorry I ever hurt you.”
“I’ll admit,” I said slowly, “that I could’ve taken any opportunity over the last nine months to clue you in on my experience. I just…there was that thrill I told you about. The one I got from the look of surprise and awe on your face every time I did something that impressed you. I thought if you knew about the international distribution that you’d stop looking at me like that, and I wanted your praise so desperately that I wasn’t willing to give it up. Not even in favor of the truth that would make things between us so much easier at work. I’m not proud of it, but I’d gotten so used to you underestimating me that I was afraid what would happen if you no longer had a reason to.
“And I’m sorry I fired you,” I added. “I may have…been a bit hormonal. I wasn’t exactly thinking straight, and I’ve made a whole mess of things.”
“I love you, Mar. There’s nothing you could do to change that,” he said with a vehemence that surprised me, capturing my face in his hands. “I stopped underestimating you a long time ago, right around the time you told me to get on my knees and crawl.”
I choked on a laugh. “I think that was the night I got pregnant.”
“Really?” His eyes widened, and tentatively, he settled a hand on my belly.
I nodded. “I’m about ten weeks, so if I do the math…yeah, I’m pretty sure it was then.”
“I don’t even understand,” he said. “You were on the pill. This…shouldn’t have happened.”
“The pill isn’t foolproof.” I laid my hand over his. “Are you mad?”
“Mad?” he asked, incredulous. “Absolutely not. This baby is a gift. So we’re starting our family a little sooner than we would’ve planned. I’m not mad, Mar. I’m fucking ecstatic to be doing this with you.” He paused and looked up from our hands, his bright green eyes shining. “Assuming you’ll have me.”
“I don’t know,” I said thoughtfully. “Will you still love me when I’m nine months pregnant and crabby and cursing you for doing this to me?”
Cal moved forward and pressed a slow, soft kiss to my mouth. Against my lips, he said, “Princess, I’m going to love you forever.”
I wiped the sweatoff Amara’s brow for what felt like the thousandth time in the last two hours.
And I’d do it a thousand more.
“You’re doing amazing, Princess,” I whispered. “You’re a fucking rockstar, and I’m so damn proud of you. Just a few more, okay?”
I glanced down at the doctor, who gave me a small headshake.
“Cal,” Amara hissed, squeezing my hand so tight that my bones ground together uncomfortably. “What’s the hold up?”
“Doc?”
“The baby is stubborn,” the doctor said with a little laugh.
“Like its mother,” I said.
Amara gathered enough strength to glare at me. “Like its stupid ass father who got me pregnant in the first place.”
I watched the doctor check his watch then heave a sigh. “We’re approaching three hours of you pushing, which is the danger zone for babies—and you. So we can do one of two things: let you keep going until we hit that three hour mark and if the baby hasn’t come by then, we do a cesarean. Or…”
“Whatever the second option is,” Amara said.
The doctor smiled indulgently. “Or, on your next contraction, I can give you an episiotomy.”
“Episi—what?” I asked.
“He’s going to create an incision that’ll make it easier for the baby to come.”
“Is that…safe?”
“Safe enough that I perform them more often than not,” the doctor said. “I’m confident the baby will be here within a few pushes if we go that route.”
“Do it,” Amara said, dropping her head back onto the pillows and taking a deep breath.
