CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

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Betty

It's two weeks since I got home from L.A and I'm feeling like a new woman. I'm not doing a lot apart from sleep, eat and enjoy as much family life as possible. I am missing my fighter though. When we flew back to England, Finn informed me that his old coach, Monty invited him to help train his fighters for a big match in Germany.

We spoke for hours about it, weighing up the pros and cons, coming to the solution that this opportunity could be the only way of him finding the closure he needs to move on. I'll support him in whatever he wants to do, whether that be stepping inside the ring or guarding me. I just want Finn to be happy.

So, he's gone and left me for two whole miserable weeks. We Skype most nights and talk throughout the day, but it's not the same as having him here with me. I have a feeling that he's also keeping tabs on me through the other security guards, but that's just a feeling, and the fact he brought up my new nail colour without me telling him about my girly trip to the spa.

"Beeetty," I hear Delilah whine from the bedroom.

I get up off the sofa and rush through, knowing she was complaining of a few pains earlier. "Everything okay?" I say, trying not to laugh as she rolls in different directions on the bed. "You need a hand?"

"Don't look at me," she cries, stopping to shove a pizza crust from the box beside her in her mouth. "I'm a beached whale. There's no hope for me now."

I ignore the fact she's unknowingly flashing me her knickers when her nighty slips up and bunches near her bump. "Give me your hand, and I'll try to pull you up," I glance at her legs and widen my eyes. "When was the last time you shaved?"

"Betty!" she says, snapping like a dog. "Priorities here. I'm gonna piss the bed if you don't hurry up."

"But, you still have time to eat?" I laugh when she reaches for another crust.

Delilah puts her free hand in mine and lets me start to tug. "I have a baby inside me. Shut your mouth."

I do, after I laugh my head off, feeling bad when Delilah starts giggling too. "You're almost up. Stop rolling around. I don't want you to fall over the edge."

"I'm up," says Delilah, stumbling to her feet, starting to waddle towards the bathroom. "And peeing. Oh god. I thought this happened after you have babies."

I see the empty bottles of water near her bed and guess they are the culprit. I walk out the room and go to check my phone for any messages. "Not long now. Maybe he's sitting on your bladder?"

"Betty," Delilah says, her voice wavering, "something doesn't feel right."

I head in her direction, finding her stood near the sink. "What do you mean?"

Delilah lifts her head, and the tears in her eyes frighten me. "I keep getting this pressure in my pelvis," she sucks in a breath. "It's taking my breath away."

Even though I'm panicking on the inside, I stay calm for Delilah, knowing she needs a level head. I take hold of her arm and lead her slowly towards the bedroom, making her lay down. "I'm going to call your midwife. Just try to relax as best you can."

Delilah nods. "The phone number's stuck to the memo board."

I find the post-it note right away and dial Mark's number, hearing him pick up within a few rings. I explain the situation, and he tells me to put Delilah on the phone. I watch as she explains her symptoms to him, feeling better when she lets out a small giggle.

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