[ELARA'S POV]
Labor was worse the second time.
With Isla I'd been terrified. Distracted by fear. Didn't know what to expect.
This time I knew exactly what was coming. Every contraction was familiar. The building pressure. The pain that made breathing hard.
Knowledge didn't make it easier. Made it worse.
"Breathe." Damian was next to me. Holding my hand. Looking helpless. "Just breathe through it."
"I am breathing." It came out sharp. Mean. "What do you think I'm doing?"
"Sorry. I don't know what to say."
"Then don't say anything." Another contraction. Stronger. I squeezed his hand until I felt bones grind. "Just be here."
"I'm here." He wiped sweat from my forehead. "Not going anywhere."
The contractions kept coming. Closer together. Stronger. Building.
The doctor checked me again. Nodded. "You're at nine centimeters. Almost there."
"Almost isn't done." I wanted to cry. Or scream. Or both. "How much longer?"
