“It is, but that means she’s in the worst of it now.”
“How much longer?” I asked grimly.
“Minutes? Hours?” She shrugged, shoving her hands into the pocket of her burgundy scrubs. “Days?”
“Days?” Belle’s voice piqued from the bed, and I looked over to see her staring dreamily at me from behind the mask.
“That’s the gas,” the midwife warned. “If she takes it off, it wears off instantly.”
I took advantage of the situation. The prickly version of Belle had been replaced by a drowsy, but calm one. As I reached her, her eyes slammed close and her hand shot out, searching for mine. I hated to see her in pain, but I was grateful that she seemed to not just tolerate my presence, but want it. My eyes skipped to the second hand of my watch, timing how long this one lasted. The midwife was right. Things were definitely picking up speed. When the pain waned, she collapsed against the bed, her hand clutching her mask like it was life support. Her eyes fluttered.
“You should rest between contractions,” the nurse advised her. “Soon, you won’t be able to.”
Belle turned bleary eyes on me.
“I’ll be right here, beautiful,” I promised.
“Clara?” she asked in a muffled voice.
She might no longer hate me, but I still wasn’t the one she wanted. I forced a tight smile and nodded, reminding myself that I would do anything to help her through this—even leave if that’s what she wanted. “She’s on her way. It shouldn’t take long.”
Belle’s hand withdrew from mine, and suddenly, she felt a million miles away.
“I’ll go find them,” I said, leaning over to kiss her forehead. “Rest.”
She was in good hands. I had to trust that. But I couldn't shake the fear that everything was about to change—forever.
12
Belle
The door opened and the comforting sight of Clara’s face appeared. Her dark hair was swept into a messy bun and her cheeks were flushed.”May I come in?”
If I was willing to let go of the nitrous oxide I would have lunged at her. Instead, I had to settle for waving her frantically to my side. I was perfectly aware that I’d become a first class bitch sans pain reliever, and I couldn’t bear the thought of lashing out at her, too. I’d already scared Smith off. The memory of his face when I’d snapped at him swam to mind, and it took me a second to realize I was blinking back tears.
“Oh, darling, what’s wrong?” Clara raced to my side, grabbing my hand. So many things had changed in the last few years, but she was here, in a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, looking nothing like the Queen. She was just my best friend, and the person I needed to see more than anyone else in the world.
“I can’t do this.” The mask muffled my confession somewhat, but Clara’s eyes melted with sympathy.
“You can. I know. They tell you it’s terrible, but it’s really terrible, isn’t it?” She smiled and squeezed my hand. “But you get the most wonderful prize at the end.”
“It’s worth it?” I arched an eyebrow. For the first time, I was really beginning to wonder if I’d lost my mind. Why on earth had I thought I wanted to do this?
Clara’s laughter tinkled like chimes. “I had a second one, didn’t I?”
But it wasn’t just the pain that had me scared. It was awful, and I’d never been so properly happy to be in a hospital before. But that came and went. Like Clara said, once this was all over, I would have a prize.
I would have a baby.
“I’m not ready,” I croaked before I lost my nerve.
“Belle,” Clara said without a hint of reproach, shaking her head. “That’s not true.”
“I’m not,” I said, feeling panicked, despite the laughing gas. I pulled the mask off, so I could make my point more clearly and was rewarded with a contraction that sucked the air out of me.
Clara leaned closer, holding my hand tightly. “You’ve got this. It will only last another minute. Okay, thirty seconds. Almost over. There.”
Her countdown had the remarkable effect of making the contraction feel less terrible than the others.
“Thank you,” I said, grateful she was here.
“See? You’re going to be fine.”
“Maybe for this part!” My panic came roaring back, settling like a lump on my chest. “I have no idea what to do with a baby!”
“That’s not true.” Clara shook her head.
“I am not responsible enough to have a child.”
“That’s not true either.”
“I’m going to be a horrible, selfish mother.” This final admission of fear exploded out of me. I’d managed for months to keep it locked away in a deep, dark place. I’d walked around with it churning inside me all this time, and now, in the throes of labor, I didn’t have the strength to keep it from spilling out.
“No,” Clara said firmly, all the softness going out of her voice. She turned blazing eyes on me. “You are not going to be a horrible mother.”
“How do you know that?” I sobbed, wanting more than anything to believe her, but it was impossible. There was only one reason that this fear had plagued me this long. It was the same reason I hadn’t shared it with anyone.
It was true.
I knew it. Some women were cut out to be mothers. Clara was one of them. But the truth was that every time I went to visit her children—my god babies—I was more than happy to leave them behind with their parents at day’s end. I never found myself missing them or wishing I could take them home. I couldn’t do that with a baby of my own. It was one of the reasons I struggled with the idea of hiring a nanny. I should want to be a mum—all the time. Not just during non-working hours. But I couldn’t imagine actually doing it. Worse, I couldn’t imagine I’d be any good at it. “How do you know?” I repeated tearfully. “I don’t want to move to the country or drive big cars or give up my company.”
“Wanting things or not wanting them doesn’t decide who you are as a person,” Clara said softly. “And wanting a career and a baby doesn’t mean you’ll be a bad mom.”
“Maybe I’m not meant to be a mother. Maybe—”
“You aren’t her,” Clara cut me off. “You aren’t your mother.”
It took me a second to process what she said. When it finally sunk in, I pulled the gas mask back over my face. I didn’t have to let my anxiety and fear take control. I needed to calm down. Suddenly, I realized I’d let panic take hold of me.
“You’ve been worrying about this for months, haven’t you?” she guessed. “Belle, you aren’t your mother. I saw how she was the other night. I imagine that only made it worse, but the good news is that we aren’t actually doomed to be our parents. Look at me. And Alexander.”
And Smith, I thought. I hadn’t wanted to tell him about my fears because I was worried that if he didn’t feel the same way, I might plant the idea in his head. I closed my eyes, finally understanding why I hadn’t been able to leash the raging bitch that had shown up on the way to the hospital.