The fear was electric, coursing through my veins. I thought of Ethan, how he had walked out on me, dismissing my cries for help like I was an annoyance. “Where is he?” I gasped, desperation leaking through my pain. “He’s supposed to be here.”
The doctor exchanged a glance with a nurse. “We’ll do everything we can, Rebecca. Just hold on.” Hold on. That echoed in my mind, but I felt myself slipping, darkness edging in at the corners of my vision.
In the Delivery Room
The bright lights of the delivery room felt like spotlights turned on high, illuminating my agony. The air was thick with antiseptic and the sounds of hurried footsteps, beeping machines, and muffled voices. I could barely breathe through the pain, each contraction igniting fresh waves of torment.
Through gritted teeth, I fumbled for my phone, my hands shaking uncontrollably. I opened a new message to Ethan, my fingers moving clumsily. “I’m in labor. Please come.” I hit send, my heart pounding with the hope he might still care.
