[ELARA'S POV]
Thirty-eight weeks and I woke up to pain.
Not the dull ache I'd gotten used to. Sharp. Radiating across my stomach in waves. Rhythmic.
Contractions.
I grabbed my phone. Started timing. Five minutes apart. Lasting about forty-five seconds each.
This was it. The baby was coming.
"Damian." I shook his shoulder. "Wake up."
He bolted upright. Wide awake instantly. "What's wrong?"
"Contractions. Five minutes apart." I breathed through another one. Gripping the sheets. "We need to go to the hospital."
He was already moving. Throwing on clothes. Grabbing the hospital bag we'd packed three weeks ago.
"I'll call Marguerite. Get her to watch Isla." He had his phone out. "How are you feeling?"
"Like there's a vice around my stomach." Another contraction. Stronger. "Yeah. Definitely labor."
Marguerite answered on the second ring. Promised to be there in fifteen minutes.
