9
195words
Twisted. Protected my belly.
Landed hard. Pain exploded. Warmth spread between my legs.
Blood.
Ambulance. Sirens.
Before blacking out, Need to see Ethan.
Woke to agony. Labor pains.
Blurry figures. Ethan's voice.
Hand gripped mine. “Liv! I'm here!”
Screamed. Bit my lip. Blood.
Ethan yelled, “Epidural! Now!”
Doctor shook her head. “Premature. Stress labor. Too risky.”
Gritted my teeth. “I can do this.”
Two hours. Pushing. Screaming.
Baby's cry.
Doctor placed him on my chest. “Healthy boy!”
Ethan kissed my forehead. Exhausted, I passed out.
Woke in a dim room. Alone.
Door opened. Ethan walked in.
“Liv!”
“The baby?”
“Premie. In NICU. Home next week.”
Pouted. “Want to see him.”
He sat. “Tomorrow. Rest now.”
Unspoken, Evelyn.
Next morning. Ethan's parents arrived. Beaming at their grandson.
I eyed the wrinkled, red face. So… ugly.
Ethan read my mind. “Newborns all look like that. He'll be handsome.”
Hoped so.
Evening. Ethan on the phone by the window.
“Keep her secure. Medicate if needed. Don't hurt her.”
I froze. “She's locked up?”
He turned. “Liv. She's sick.”
“So pushing me…”
“I know.” I met his eyes. “I forgive her.”
He relaxed.
But things weren't that simple.
