EIGHT MONTHS LATER
KILLIAN
I woke up in the middle of the night to hear Chleo screaming in the bathroom. “Killian!”
“What’s wrong, baby?” I asked as I busted down the door.
“My water broke,” she said. “The babies are coming now.”
“Alright,” I said, “let’s get you to the doctor.”
“It’s too late,” she said. “I can’t move, I know I can’t.”
I ran to grab my cell phone, and I called the doctor.
“Your Majesty,” she said.
“Chleo’s in labor,” I told her, “she says she can’t move.”
“I’m on my way,” she told me.
“The doctor’s on her way, baby,” I told Chleo. “What can I do?”
“Just hold my hand,” she said and screamed as a contraction hit. I grabbed her right hand with mine and placed my left hand on her lower back. Fifteen minutes later, the doctor and Dahlia walked into our room.
“Your
