Chapter 71

Emma just looks, well, like she’s having a baby. Panting, sweating, writhing around and breathing hard.
Trying to keep herself controlled and listening to him, looking to him for direction, putting all her trust
and faith in him that he will get her through this, and I suddenly feel overly emotional. Looking at Arrick
and knowing I would need that of him, I do always need that of him.

Emma suddenly arches her back and groans like a wild animal and Jake reaches out to Arrick’s
dumped pile of towels and grabs a few, pulling them back between her legs on the floor and creating a
nest of absorbency. Intent on what he’s doing, oblivious to our presence, not that either of us is worth
anything right now.

“Push, baby... the head right here. Just a little push and we get this one out. Fastest birth ever,
Bambino.” Emma makes a horrible grunty, groany, almost scream-like noise, that has me screwing up
my face in complete traumatization; mentally telling myself that I never want to do this, ever. It’s awful.

I only become aware of Arrick’s arm around my back when his breath hits my cheek. I realize we’re
both cuddled close and watching the same thing, except he too seems totally freaked out now that I am
not focusing on him to keep me sane.

Arrick, with an expression of utter horror and all ounces of facial control gone. It’s so not him at all, so
unexpected that I let out an inappropriate giggle and it seems to catch his attention as, he throws me
that ‘don’t even’ look, before nodding down at the sodden mess of ‘yuck’ I’m dressed in. I grimace and
shake it off, giving up with dabbing the irreparable and watch Jake and Emma instead.

She grunts and arches again before lifting her head, curling forward like she’s trying to do an ab crunch
and seems to go into serious constipation face. Her cheeks turning rosy red, her breath held, and stays
that way for seconds. Crunching, grunting, God knows what? I only imagine pushing.

“Good girl, good girl.” Jake encourages. From this angle, I can’t see anything but calves under her
hitched-up dress; his hands are definitely up around her baby factory deposit chute.



“Breathe, relax, and breathe. Almost came that time. Just take a second and try again, baby, pant it
out. Breathe.” Jake is very calm, despite me assuming he would fall to shit. The master of command at
the helm and I guess doing what Jake does. Taking care of his Emma.

Emma flops back, obviously stopping the horrendous pushing motion, exhaling hard. She already
seems exhausted and ready to pass out, and it’s still in there. I squirm uncontrollably, biting on my lip
as nerves and anxiety for my beloved Emma hit me hard in the gut. Nausea overwhelms me, hands go
back to shaking and my mind spews out every worst-case scenario as fear hits me.

I grab Arrick’s hand and squeezing tight, watching anxiously, eyes glued to what is unfolding. He
moves his hand in my hold, to make a better fit, and doesn’t flinch when I squeeze it harder at Emma’s
painful moan. This is just way too stressful to watch.

She curls up again, closing her eyes tight, making a low moaning noise, that would probably befit a
scene from the exorcist, and sends shivers down my spine. Jake is curled forward, his butt on the floor
and legs either side as he gets as low as he can, face fully focused under her dress and a look of
complete concentration.

“Push, baby... She’s coming.” He leans in, his upper arm muscles flex, obviously holding or helping
somehow, in a way I do not want to know about. Emma grunts and then suddenly a weird noise, like
spluttering, choking, softly hits home. I completely freak out, turning into Arrick’s chest and cover my
face with my palms. A million thoughts racing through my mind crazily.

Babies die in childbirth! Moms die in childbirth! People bleed out, with babies born not breathing and
they can’t revive them. So many things that can go wrong and it all rests in Jake’s hands. He’s not a
fucking doctor!

I can’t handle it, it’s too much to bear, and Arrick’s arm tightens around me, despite the disgusting
dampness between us, blocking it all out to squeeze myself against his chest until this is over. I don’t



want her to die. I don’t want baby Ava to die. I want this to be over and everyone fine and like a million
doctors running in the door, to make sure she’s okay.

God, I love Emma so much, and I would die if anything happened to her. Please keep her safe!

The tears and panic hit me hard, sobbing against him as his face comes to my cheek and he cuddles
me in close. His breath in the crook of my neck where my shoulder meets. He just encircles me tightly,
breathing shallowly for what seems like forever.

“Hey, hey.” He soothes, his hand coming to the back of my hair as he buries his fingers in the short
silky lengths and runs fingertips over my skin. His other arm so tight around my waist and pulling me to
him in a truly intimate hug that has us entangled firmly. “Sophs, it’s over... Open your eyes and look.
She’s okay, the baby is out.” His soft, cheerful voice brings me out of my own head, and I look up at
him in question. Suddenly realizing I can hear a baby crying.

No more grunting noise, just a lot of little tiny cries from a new voice. I blink, catching his focus on mine
for a second as he nods and smiles widely, and then turn my head against him to look back at Jake.

Jake is wrapping a little bundle in a towel, wiping its face and head gently, wiping its little mouth as it
screams its tiny lungs out, holding it close and nuzzling it to him. He looks every bit like a guy who has
just fallen head over heels in love again. That proud paternal and crazily emotional look on his face,
eyes glazed, and brow furrowed as he locks eyes with his new daughter for the first time and smiles.
He moves forward to bring the baby to Emma, watching how he leans over her, holding his weight on
his strong arm and maneuvering carefully with his precious parcel. Emma looks wiped out, exhausted
beyond belief, majorly pale, but really okay. I sigh with upmost relief, tears still rolling down my cheeks.

I avoid the mess that is still going on around the floor where Jake is kneeling, oblivious to his
sweatpants being covered in a whole lot of blood, and God knows what else, and the long blue chord
still attached to her. I try to focus on just them and the baby.



Emma takes the little bundle, pulls the towel open so she can lay it face down on the exposed part of
her cleavage in the strappy dress, skin on skin, cooing and crying happily. Jake kisses her on the
forehead, beaming with pride, strokes her face with his newly freed hand and tells her how much he
loves her. An incredibly beautiful moment, welcoming their new little bundle with so much love.

I turn and wrap myself back around Arrick impulsively; happiness and relief overwhelming me from the
sheer emotion of all of this, sliding my arms around that strong neck and pull him to my face to snuggle
in. He doesn’t hesitate in leaning into me, squeezing me back. Pulling back for a second as our eyes
meet and there is an odd moment of something that passes between us. Something in the intense way
he focuses on me that makes my heart flip over, a locking of eyes, a glance at my mouth as though he
wants to kiss me, and then it’s gone.

“They’re coming, they’re on their way.” The nanny gasps at the door and everyone looks
up.


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