Stella
The hospital smelled like antiseptic and panic.
I couldn't tell which one was mine.
By the time the automatic doors slid open, I was shaking so hard I couldn't hide it anymore. My contractions weren't neat, clean waves the way they were supposed to be. They were jagged—stacking on top of each other like my body had forgotten how to pause.
Asher had one arm around my back and the other braced across my front, doing his best to keep me from splinting apart.
"Deep breath," he murmured near my ear, voice steady. "You're doing it. You're doing it."
"I don't—" My breath hitched. Another squeeze tore through me so quickly I couldn't finish the sentence. "It hurts."
"I know."
I hated how easily he believed me. A nurse spotted us instantly. Her eyes dropped once, then snapped back up
