Page 68 of Consummation (The Josh & Kat Trilogy #3)

Forty-Four

Josh

“Fucking motherfucker!” Kat shrieks, squeezing my hand. “Jesus Christ Superstar!”

I lean into Kat’s sweaty face. “Do your breathing, babe. Breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth.”

“Fuck that shit. You breathe in through your nose and out your mouth, motherfucker—I want a fucking epidural!”

“Babe, you heard the doctor—everything happened way too fast for an epidural. We missed the window. Just breathe . Like this.” I lean into Kat’s face and model the breathing we learned at our getting-ready-for-childbirth class at the hospital.

Kat’s eyes turn unequivocally homicidal. “If you breathe like that again, I swear I’ll cut off your balls and make s’mores out of ’em,” she growls.

I bite my lip and cease all breathing.

The monitor attached to Kat tells me she’s in the throes of another huge contraction.

“Push now, Kat,” the doctor says. “Right now.”

“I can’t.”

“Sure you can,” I say. “You’re a beast—you can do anything.”

“Just gimme a second—fuck!” She lets out a blood-curdling scream. “Motherfucker!”

I look at the doctor, my heart racing. “Is something wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” the doctor says. “Kat’s just expressing herself. Isn’t that right, Kat?”

Kat whimpers. “December second’s not for eleven more days—I needed more time to mentally prepare to do this.”

“Sorry, Kat. She’s decided to come today,” the doctor says. “In about three minutes, I’d estimate. ”

“But she wasn’t supposed to be a Scorpio, ” Kat whines.

“She’s supposed to be a Sagittarius .” She lets out a truly pathetic sound.

“Please, God, I’ll be good and nice from here on out.

I’ll never lose my temper. I’ll be patient.

Saintly. Just, please, don’t give me a goddamned fucking female Scorpio .

” She grips my hand fiercely. “Babe, listen to me. Tell them to stuff her back in for another twenty-four hours. Please. Tomorrow, she’ll be a sweet little Sagittarius .

Please . Pay them, Josh. Make them listen. ”

The monitor hooked up to Kat indicates another huge contraction is hitting her—which is something I’d have surmised without the monitor, based on the string of expletives suddenly spewing from her mouth.

“Push now,” the doctor says. “Push with the contraction, Kat. You can do it.”

Kat bears down and pushes, as instructed, growling and whimpering as she does.

When the contraction is over, I lean into Kat’s sweaty face. “Good job, baby. You’re doing great.”

“Okay, Kat,” Dr. Gupta says. “Two more big pushes and the baby will be out.”

“I can’t,” Kat says, her tone pathetic.

I touch Kat’s beautiful, sweaty face. “You can do this, babe.” I squeeze her hand. “We’re so close.”

“What do you mean ‘we’? Are you gonna do this? Are you gonna pass a fucking bowling ball?”

“Push now, Kat,” the doctor instructs. “ Right now .”

Kat takes a huge breath and bears down, her face turning bright red.

“Good. That’s good,” Dr. Gupta says. “You’re doing great, Kat. Okay. Rest for a moment and then we’ll do it one more time.”

Kat grips my hand. She’s shaking violently. “I’m done,” she says meekly. “I can’t do any more. Knock me out, Doc. Stuff her back up inside me and cut her out. I don’t care. Do whatever you have to do. I quit.”

I stroke Kat’s beautiful cheek. “You don’t know the meaning of the word ‘quit.’”

“Yes, I do,” Kat whimpers. “I’m not a beast—I want my mommy.” She bursts into tears .

“Your mommy’s coming as fast as she can. Everyone’s on their way, baby. It just happened too fast for them to get here in time.”

“I’ve change my mind. I don’t want a baby, after all. Stuff her back in!” she cries. “Make her go away!”

I laugh, even though I shouldn’t.

“Here we go,” Dr. Gupta says calmly, looking at the monitor next to Kat. “You’re gonna push with this next contraction, Kat—one more big push and this baby will be out and you’ll be a mommy. Come on.”

Kat whimpers pathetically again.

I squeeze Kat’s hand. “Come on, baby. Dig deep.”

“ You dig deep, motherfucker,” she says, making me chuckle, but, immediately, she bears down, as instructed, grunting loudly with her effort, and not more than twenty seconds later, a tiny, pink angel pops out from between my wife’s legs, shrieking like I just woke her up from an afternoon nap in front of the TV by shouting “Boo!”

And, just like that, my heart is no longer inside my body.

My cheeks are absolutely soaking wet.

And I’m exactly the man—the husband and father—I was always meant to be.