Page 54 of Sweet Escape (Whispering Oaks Ranch #1)

Choosing you

? This Woman’s Work - Maxwell

Trigger warning: Traumatic birth

Wilder

“She’s doing so much better. Aren’t you, girl?” Liv says.

Storm whinnies and nuzzles at Liv’s protruding belly over the fence to the west pasture. Liv strokes her forehead, up between her ears.

“Won’t be long before this little one is here and I can take you for a proper ride.” I wrap my arms around her from behind, one palm resting over her belly.

She sighs wistfully. “I can’t wait. It’s not that I don’t love being pregnant—I actually do—but I’m ready for her to be here. It feels like this last month is just dragging on.”

It’s been a couple of weeks since my visit to the cemetery, and it feels like a weight has been lifted.

Before all the chaos, I was barely making it through each day.

Now I live for the quiet moments with my family, coming home at the end of the day to a house that’s filled with laughter, sweetness…

and them . I only wish I’d gotten my head outta my ass sooner.

“Once she’s here, you’ll wish she was back inside, safe and sound. It’ll be like having your heart walking around outside your body. It’s excruciating and breathtaking all at once.”

“That was weirdly poetic, Big Guy.”

I chuckle, gliding my palm across her belly in a soothing motion. “I have my moments. Has she been moving much today?”

“A little. She had the hiccups early this morning. I’ll never get used to that feeling, but I think I’ll miss it.” She winces slightly. “I won't miss this back pain, though.”

I place my hands at the base of her spine and massage the area. “Has it been worse today?”

“Not worse. Different. Like, there’s more pressure. I?—”

She stiffens in my arms and looks down at the ground. Everything stills when I follow her line of sight to the liquid pooling at her feet. Agitated, Storm paces in the paddock.

“I think my water just broke. It’s too early, Wilder. What do we do?”

We’re still a month away from her due date, but we were prepared. The bags are already in the truck, ready to go.

“Deep breaths, honey. It’s time.”

Olivia

Wilder: Liv’s water broke. Heading to the hospital.

Evie: Keep us updated. We’ll head up there with Emmy when you give us the go ahead.

Pops: Take care of our girl.

Jaxon: Holler if you need anything.

Griffin: Congrats, brother.

An hour after being admitted, a gorgeous curvy redhead in a set of pink scrubs strides into the room. “Good afternoon, Olivia. I’m Cara, I’ll be taking over for Lindsay. Today’s the day?” She wipes the previous nurse’s name from the whiteboard and replaces it with her own.

I wince as a sudden bite of pain radiates through my abdomen. “It would seem so,” I say, breathing through the contraction.

Wilder grasps my hand, squeezing twice to let me know he’s here. I glance up, and the smile on his face nearly steals my breath.

“Alright. At the last check, you were three centimeters dilated, and your contractions are four minutes apart. Everything looks good so far. We’ll continue monitoring your progress.

If you experience anything out of the ordinary, hit the call button and someone will be in to check on you.

I’m talking swelling, spotty vision, headaches, and extreme pain.

If you are concerned at any point, press the button.

Nobody knows your body better than you do.

Dad, if she’s being stubborn and you’re worried, you can press the button, too. ”

I pin him with a narrow-eyed glare. “Undermine me and see how that goes for you, mister.”

Cara laughs. “You two are going to be trouble, aren’t you?”

“Me?” I say. “Never.”

“Call if you need anything at all. I’ll have someone bring in some ice chips. Sound good?”

“Sounds amazing.”

True to her word, a cup of ice chips is delivered a short while later, along with a pitcher of water.

Wilder takes up the mantle of feeding me the chips with a spoon, alternating with the cup of water and a straw.

When one particularly violent contraction seizes me, he’s on his feet in seconds, leaning over the side of the bed to cradle my head while I clamp down on his other hand with as much strength as I can muster.

“Breathe, honey.”

I let out the breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding, and some of the pain subsides. “I think the contractions are getting closer together.”

He checks his watch. “Three minutes. Do you want me to press the call button?”

“No, I’m okay.” My head hurts a little bit, but I attribute it to a side effect of inadvertently holding my breath through the contraction.

My progress is slow, but an hour later, I have an epidural in place, and I’m a lot more relaxed than I had been when I could feel every ounce of pain.

Now the contractions are barely more than a dull ache and a bit of pressure.

We’ve been here for hours. To Wilder’s credit, he’s managed to stay with me the whole time, but I know he’s tired.

I roll my head to the side, reaching for his hand. He’s sitting with his elbows on his knees, as close as he could get to the bed without being on top of it.

“Wilder?”

“Hm?”

“If I shit myself, don’t tell me. I don’t want to know.”

He chuckles. “My lips are sealed. Whatever happens down there that doesn’t involve our beautiful baby girl entering the world is none of my business.”

“Thank you,” I murmur, my eyes closing as exhaustion threatens to overwhelm me.

When the next contraction wakes me from my brief respite, I know something is terribly wrong.

It feels like I’ve peed myself, and w hen I glance down at the bed, my vision goes spotty.

I can just make out a small pool of red between my legs.

I frantically reach for the call button, but an unbearable pain radiates through my abdomen, and I can’t quite reach it.

“Wilder! Wilder… press the call button. Please!”

Wilder’s panicked voice is a dull hum beneath the pulsing in my head, and everything happens in a blur.

I can just make out the muffled voice of Doctor Patel confirming my worst fears.

“Her blood pressure is elevated. We suspect a sudden onset of preeclampsia and possible placental abruption. We need to prepare for surgery now!”

Wilder

I rake my hands through my hair, tugging at the roots as I pace back and forth at the foot of the bed. There are several nurses preparing to take Olivia down to surgery, and she’s barely coherent, drifting in and out of consciousness.

The sound of a man’s voice breaks me out of my swirling thoughts. He introduces himself as Doctor Shaw, the surgeon on call to help deliver my baby. “Son, I need you to listen to me. We’re going to do everything we can to deliver your daughter safely. She needs you. They both need you.”

I tug on the hospital-provided scrubs, complete with a mask and shoe covers, and I return to Olivia’s side when one of the nurses gives me the go-ahead.

“Take a moment,” Doctor Shaw says. “Once we head down to the O.R., we’re going to need to move fast, and there won’t be time for words.”

The implication is jarring, but I nod in acknowledgement, blinking back tears. I can’t fucking lose them. Olivia’s eyes meet mine, and the fear and resignation I see in them nearly brings me to my knees .

“Save her,” Olivia croaks. “If you have to make a choice, save our baby.”

“If there’s a choice, I’ll make it, but I would save you every time. We can make another baby; I’ll never have another you.”

“I’m just some woman you knocked up. You have to save Gracie.”

Anger mixes with anguish as her words pierce through my heart, down to the marrow of my bones. After all this time, how does she not know what she means to me? “You’re not just some woman I knocked up, Olivia! You’re…”

“What? What am I, Wilder?” Her voice is barely above a whisper, and I know it’s taking every ounce of strength she has left to fight for our daughter.

I close my eyes against the onslaught of terrifying emotions.

“Everything. You’re everything to me, Livie.

You, Emmy, and Gracie. Nothing else matters.

I could lose everything else tomorrow and survive.

But you, our family, and the life we’re creating together—that loss would break me in a way I won’t ever come back from. ”

“You have to—Emmy needs you. Our girls will need you. You have to carry on if I can't. Promise me.”

I swallow against the lump in my throat. “I can’t.”

“Promise me, Wilder.” She slides her hand out from beneath mine, cupping my cheek.

The tears that have been threatening to spill since the moment I saw that panicked look in her eyes finally fall.

“I need you, Liv. I was barely existing until you breathed life back into me. A part of me died with her that day, don’t you see?

But if I lose you , there’s nobody left to bring me back to life again.

Falling in love once is a blessing. Twice is a goddamn miracle. ”

A tear falls down her cheek, but she doesn’t speak, both of us locked in a silent war of wills.

I open my mouth to tell her I love her, but I don’t get the chance. Her hand d rops away from my cheek, and everything else happens in a blur of movement.

“We have to go.”

Nurses are on either side of her bed, rushing down the hallway to the massive elevator. It’s all I can do to keep moving forward and keep my mind from going back to the day we said goodbye to Jess. I have to remind myself this isn't going to end the same way—it can’t.

When we get to the O.R., I’m guided to a spot near her head as they change out her IV bag and put up a curtain so we can’t see what’s happening. I’m grateful. I would love nothing more than to witness my daughter’s birth, but not like this. Not when I’m terrified I’ll lose them both.

Olivia’s eyelids flutter open, but her face is still pale, and there’s a thin sheen of sweat dotting her hairline.

I press my lips to her forehead and whisper soothing words, trying to keep her with me as long as possible. “Stay with me, Liv. She’s almost here.”

I rest my head against her chest, willing her heartbeat to drown out the sounds of medical instruments and machines whirring. I’m not even listening to the doctors as they work tirelessly to deliver my daughter safely.

The entire room stills the moment Gracie’s piercing cry reaches my ears. It’s the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard. Olivia’s mouth drops open in a gasp, and tears stream down the side of her cheeks.

I glance over the curtain and make eye contact with the doctor who is holding my tiny baby girl in his palms. She has a head full of dark hair visible beneath the blood and fluid covering her body.

She’s quickly wiped down and placed on Olivia’s chest. We both dissolve into uncontrollable sobs as Gracie wriggles in her arms. My palm engulfs her entire back, and Olivia’s eyes meet mine.

“She looks like you,” she murmurs .

“She has your eyes, Liv.”

Olivia gives me a watery smile, then blinks slowly, her hand falling away from Gracie’s head. Panic claws at my chest as a loud, persistent beeping fills the room.

Gracie is removed from her chest, and the last thing I hear is, “We’re losing her.”