“Samira, there’s one more gift,” Pia said, touching her arm before leaning in and murmuring, “Are you okay? You seem really out of it.”
“False labor pains.” She forced a smile that ended on a hiss at a particularly vicious stab low in her abdomen.
Pia’s gaze clouded with worry. “You sure it’s false? Because it’s too early—”
“I know,” she snapped, instantly regretting it when Pia’s expression closed off. “Sorry, Cuz, I know how hard this must be for you, throwing me a shower, and I can’t thank you enough. But this pain is making me crabby, and I really want to get out of here.”
Pia nodded as she started gathering up wads of torn gift wrapping and stuffing them into a trash bag. “Consider it done. Open this last gift, and I’ll start ushering them out on the pretext of a half-price sale at that new sari shop at the end of the block.”
When Samira was younger, she’d almost been caught in a stampede when the aunties had heard about one of those sales, so she knew it would do the trick.
“You’re a lifesaver . . .” Samira couldn’t speak as a slash of pain from her abdomen ripped through to her back. She stiffened, bracing for another, exhaling slowly when it didn’t come, but fear making every muscle in her body tense.
“You’re not okay,” Pia said, helping her to her feet. “Come with me. You rest in the bedroom. I’ll get rid of this crew.”
Samira managed a grateful smile and mumbled a collective thanks to the aunties before Pia led her to her old bedroom. Kushi had been in the kitchen, and when she entered the family room and took one look at her, her mom rushed over to help too.
“Don’t panic, you two, but I think I need to go to the hospital,” Samira said, as they led her to the bed and she sank onto it. “The pain is pretty intense, so I’m starting to wonder if it’s more than Braxton-Hicks.”
Pia blanched. “Fuck,” she muttered, and the fact Kushi didn’t even blink told Samira exactly how worried her mom was.
“I’ll send everyone home,” Kushi said, “and you ring for an ambulance.”
When Samira didn’t protest, her mom’s and cousin’s worry lines deepened. A worry that didn’t let up when the paramedics arrived, examined her, and pronounced her three centimeters dilated.
“Your baby is on its way.” The older paramedic, a woman with barb on her name tag, took her blood pressure. “Nothing can stop these little blighters when they want to come.”
Samira waited until the cuff pressure eased before murmuring, “But it’s too early. I’m only thirty-two weeks.”
She glimpsed a flicker of something in Barb’s eyes before the paramedic said, “We’ll take good care of you. You can give us your ob-gyn’s details in the ambulance, but I’ll be honest, love, you’re not going to the hospital you probably booked into. We’re taking you to the closest one.”
Samira bit back a cry as another blinding cramp, which she now knew to be a contraction, tore through her. Sweat broke out over her skin, and her palms grew clammy.
“Take me anywhere you goddamn want,” she said through gritted teeth.
“Done.” Barb squeezed her hand. “You’ll get the best possible care. Now, can you walk out to the stretcher?”
Samira nodded, though it was more a hobble as it felt like her baby had descended and was clawing its way out of her. She may be a physical therapist who knew about strengthening the pelvic floor and strong core and abdominals to help with labor, but she knew next to nothing about the possible complications of a premature birth.
She’d been lulled into a false sense of security, feeling invincible she could do this on her own. She thought she’d done everything right by this baby, but what if the stress of pining for Rory had brought this early labor on?
A wild supposition, maybe, but as they strapped her into the back of the ambulance, then she clung onto the metal railings as it seemed to travel at breakneck speed to the nearest hospital, she hated the ongoing doubt that she’d done the wrong thing in making herself unhappy and thus affecting her cortisol levels.
Her mom and Pia were driving behind the ambulance, and one of them would have her cell. Amid the terror and the fear and the pain, she knew what she had to do.
She had to contact Rory and tell him their baby was on the way.
Forty-Seven
Relieved his dad would be okay, Rory headed toward his car parked out front of the hospital. He’d wanted to make sure his dad wasn’t underplaying his stroke before he made an all-important phone call to Samira. He had his plan all worked out, and this time he wouldn’t take no for an answer.
As he slid behind the steering wheel, his cell beeped and he glanced at the screen. Fantastic. Just the woman he wanted to contact. However, as he read the message, fear gripped his heart and squeezed tight.
She was in labor at a hospital in Dandenong. She’d let him know as soon as the baby was born. The message was short and didn’t tell him much, but for a genius who had aced his economics degree, he could do the math.
This baby was being born eight weeks early.
Rory wasn’t a worrier as a rule. He let fate run its course. But after firing off a quick response, I’M HERE FOR YOU, WILL BE THERE AS FAST AS I CAN, he broke the land speed record between Prahran and Dandenong, reaching the hospital in twenty-five minutes.
She wouldn’t be expecting him. She’d think he was still in the outback, and while he didn’t wish his dad ill, he was glad he’d come back a few days early to visit Garth. Otherwise, he would’ve missed the birth of his child, and considering the complications of a premature birth . . . He didn’t know the specifics, but he knew enough to figure this could be dicey.
It took him five minutes to find the maternity ward and another five to convince the nursing staff his girlfriend was about to give birth. It wasn’t until Pia caught sight of him and told the nurses he was indeed the father that they let him in.
He didn’t know what to expect as he knocked on the door of Samira’s birthing suite. Loud screeching, moaning, maybe an expletive or two directed his way when she caught sight of him. However, as he eased the door open and saw her lying propped up in bed, her pallor matching the sheets, something in his chest twisted and he couldn’t breathe.
She looked absolutely terrified.
When she caught sight of him, she tried a tentative smile that ended in a crumple as she broke down, and he flew to her side, bundling her in his arms.
“It’s going to be okay,” he said, hoping to God it was true.
“It’s too early,” she murmured, ending on a sob, and he tightened his grip, infusing her with strength for what they were about to face, before easing away to look her in the eye.