Delicate

Chapter 56

HAVEN MCQUEEN

To this day, I still remember when my parents scrambled to try and explain to me how I came to this earth. My poor father gave me the real sex talk when I was older and taught me the importance of safe sex, consent, and how I should always tell him right away if someone touched me who wasn't supposed to touch me. Until that point, I was under the impression that all a woman had to do was pray to God for a baby and it would magically appear inside her tummy when the timing was right, and nine months later, the baby would magically be outside of the mom's tummy. That was my southern mother's explanation. God and magic.

More than anything, I wish that were the case as I lie here in the UCLA Health Hospital, experiencing yet another contraction. It has to be the worst pain I've ever felt; like a period cramp on massive steroids. It's debilitating and makes me regret ever having sex, and I hate that. I'm supposed to be happy to be having babies, not wishing I wasn't.

"How bad?" Harry winces as he sits beside me with his hand in mine.

"Like a fifteen," I exhale an even breath, trying to relax all my muscles as I rest my head back on my pillow. "We've been here for fucking hours, H. Why won't they just come out?"

"I'm sorry, baby," he kisses my knuckles. "I wish I could help you somehow."

"You wanna trade places?"

He smiles with his lips still grazing the back of my hand. "I would if I could."

"Fuck off, no you wouldn't," I look up at the ceiling again, hearing him laugh while I brace myself for another hellish cramp coming soon, I'm sure. "Can you tell me something to distract me, please? Just talk to me."

"Okay, um...Alessandro is sending over some samples of the tour wardrobe," he has a hopeful edge in his tone like he hopes that'll work. "I think he said he's sending five or so."

"That's exciting," I speak through clenched teeth and start squeezing his hand harder as the contraction hits. "Mother fucking fuck."

While I breathe through the next 30 seconds of the worst pain of my life, my mom comes in the room with more ice chips, complaining about how this hospital is too big and annoying to try and navigate. Meanwhile, Harry times my contractions to the end to find that it lasted for 48 seconds and came seven minutes after the previous one.

"What's the rule?" He asks. "Thirty to seventy seconds every five to ten minutes?"

"Should I get the nurse?" My mom sets the ice chips on the table beside my bed.

"I think so," I nod, inhaling a much-needed deep breath now that I can breathe at all. "I think maybe it's time, or it's close."

With my confirmation, she taps the buzzer by the door to signal for my nurse so she can come and see if I'm dilated yet. The only reason we're at the hospital is because my water broke earlier this afternoon at around 3:00, but my contractions didn't start until 5:30. They were still too far apart for us to be terribly concerned, but I wanted to be in the hospital before it was an emergency and Harry agreed with me.

But now it's past 1 AM and the excitement of giving birth has worn off. Everyone was here in the beginning, but I couldn't expect them to stand and sit around for hours just waiting for something to happen. Regardless, my dad is still here working on his laptop somewhere and Anne went to go get coffee for everyone but me. I could go for a shot of tequila, personally.

As the nurse returns while I'm in the middle of another contraction, she tries to distract me by asking me questions like if I have any names picked out and if I have a feeling about the genders. I'm too in pain and annoyed beyond belief to answer her while she checks for my dilation, announcing that I'm almost three centimeters.