“Reacted?” Kim asks, glancing to Harlow for answers when I don’t reply.
“She kind of swung the tray in his direction, and it slipped out of her hand and hit him on the head.”
“Oh dear,” Kim mutters.
“It’s fine though. He’s used to it,” Harlow explains, waving it off.
“In all fairness, he should have learnt his lesson by now. He knows better than to go after a pregnant woman’s food,” Lake explains.
My stomach tightens, and to cover the pain, I turn away from the girls, pretending to be interested in the goodies filling the table. I reach for a sausage roll, shoving it in my mouth, as I nearly crumple to the floor with pain.
As quickly as it started, it goes, and I take a moment to compose myself before turning back to the room.
“Denny?”
I glance at Harlow, forcing a smile. “Yeah?”
“I said: how is Mason doing now?”
I actually flinch at the reminder. Mason tried to help me clear it up, but he ended up knocking over a tray of spring rolls. I threw a hissy fit to end all hissy fits. I overreacted. But in my defence, I had been in the middle of a contraction. He didn’t know that though.
“I’ll make it up to him. I actually feel bad because he’s been up with Ciara, taking on the extra workload, and with this pregnancy, he’s got a lot on. He didn’t need me throwing a hissy fit.”
“He’ll be fine. They need shaking up once in a while,” Teagan tells us.
“True,” I force out, turning my back to the room once again.
Fuck!
This one hurts more than the last. And they’re closer together.
“I think you need to tell Mason now,” Harlow sings quietly.
I nod. “I will. Let us finish the party first.”
“Denny,” she disapproves, giving me the stink eye.
“Shit!” Lake bursts out, glancing up from her phone.
“Everything okay?” I ask, gripping Harlow’s hand as another contraction hits.
“No. Max spilt the last three bottles of breast milk,” she explains, getting to her feet. “I’m really sorry, Denny, I need to go feed them.”
“Don’t be. It’s completely fine. Pop round after with them.”
“But—” Harlow begins.
I squeeze her hand tighter, stopping her next words. “But if you can’t, I understand. I’m just glad you came.”
Lake makes her way over to me, pulling me in for a hug. “Congratulations again and I’ll try to come back, but you know the feeds can take a while.”
My arms tense around her as my stomach tightens. Hearing her let out a wheeze, I pull back, clearing my throat. “I know. It’s fine,” I assure her. “Thank you for coming.”
Harlow walks with me as we make our way to the front door. Max stands from the chair under the canopy, rocking Hayden in his arms.
“She’s starving,” he yells.
“Are you saying I’m starving my kids?” Lake snaps.
Max pales, glancing to Maverick, who has the sense to look away, not getting involved. Max gulps. “No. My bad.”
Movement at the top room window of the house pulls my attention away from Max. My contractions are long forgotten when I spot Maddox and Madison fighting over the pizza box on the windowsill, the curtains drawn behind them.
“Um, Harlow…” I call.
She glances over at me, her brows bunched together. “Do you want me to call Mason now?”
“No. Um—”
“You need to be in the hospital where they can monitor you.”
“Yeah, I know, and I will be, but you need to know—”
“Stop being stubborn. I thought Max was the stubborn one, but you may actually have him beat today.”
I laugh at her insult. “Harlow, if you would stop for five seconds, I’m trying to tell you the twins are sitting on the windowsill fighting over pizza.” I quickly glance up to the two culprits. “And I think Maddox won because Madison is smacking him across the head with the doll.”
Her eyes widen as she watches Madison shove her brother against the window, his face mushing against the glass.
“Shit!” she hisses. “Malik! Malik!”
Kayla steps up next to me, Teagan on the other side as we watch the kids freeze for a second before jumping down off the windowsill, where Maddox’s bed is located.
“Kids,” Teagan murmurs.
Another contraction hits and I stagger backwards until I reach the living room door, gripping the doorframe.
“Are you okay?” Kayla asks, rushing over to me.
I clutch my stomach, and suddenly, there is a pop, like someone cracking their knuckles, before a gush of water bursts between my legs.
“Oh fuck,” Teagan murmurs, skidding in the amniotic fluid. She steadies herself, looks down, and grins. “I’ll call Mason.”
I wave her off, pulling my phone out of my back pocket. “I got it,” I assure her, dialling his number.
“I’ll get everyone to leave,” Kayla assures me, and I nod, moving through to the kitchen for privacy.
I breathe in, then out, crying out when the contraction hits, worse than any of the others before. “Fuck!”
“Babe,” Mason answers.
Panting heavily, I reply. “My waters just broke, and I’ve been in labour since yesterday afternoon.” No answer. “Mason, did you hear me?”
“Fuck, shit, yeah, I’m-I’m coming.”
I end the call, gripping the phone tightly as I bend over the counter, breathing through my contraction.
Teagan walks in, rubbing my lower back. “Do you need anything?”
“Just my husband,” I cry out as I wiggle my hips side to side, trying to ease the pain.
There’s a loud crash from outside, seconds before a thud. I glance to Teagan, my eyes wide. “What the hell was that?”
“Let me check,” she murmurs, and goes to take a step towards the door, but stops short when Mason comes barging in, falling into the doorframe. He looks up, hair soaked, blood streaming from his nose and the corner of his mouth.
“Mason, what on earth have you done?” I ask, seconds before another contraction hits. “Argghhhh.”
“I’m going to get the bags. Yeah. The bags.” He spins around, smacking into the door, and I don’t need to ask again what he did to get injured.
“I should have listened to Harlow,” I cry out, wanting to curl up in a ball.
“I’m here. I’m here. I told you to—”
“Harlow, not now,” I yell, before bursting into tears. “My God, I’m still leaking.”
“I’ll go get you some joggers,” she mutters as she glances at the wetness trickling down my legs, before rushing away. Moments later, we hear her again. “Mason, her bag is bloody packed; it’s in the nursery. You need to get her to the hospital. You know it’s not long until she delivers now her waters have broken.”
“Shit, car seat,” he yells, seconds before we hear another thud. “Fuck!”
“It’s in the car,” Maverick yells from somewhere from close by.
“This is his third child, right?” Kayla asks.
“You’d think it’s his first,” I hiss out, clutching my stomach.