"The last fifteen minutes, maybe? They were mild before, but now..."
"When Kasen gets there, I need you two to meet me at the hospital," Reed says, his professional calm somehow more frightening than panic would be. "At twenty-four weeks, we don't mess around with regular contractions. I'll meet you there."
I hang up and slide down the side of my car until I'm sitting on the concrete. The garage is cold, the fluorescent lights flickering overhead, and for the first time since this all began, I'm truly scared.
Twenty-four weeks. That's barely viable if something goes wrong. That's a baby who needs months more time to develop, who isn't ready for the world yet.
"Please," I whisper to my belly. "Please be okay."
I don't know how long I sit there before I hear Kasen's truck roaring through the garage. He screeches to a stop beside me, and then he's there, pulling me up into his arms.
"I've got you," he murmurs against my hair. "Everything's going to be fine."
"What if it's not?" The words come out strangled as I grip his flannel shirt so hard my knuckles turn white. "What if I've been pushing too hard? What if I've hurt him?"
"Hey." Kasen cups my face, making me look at him. "This is not your fault. You've been taking care of yourself. Sometimes these things just happen. And it’s probably nothing."
"I can't lose him," I whisper, tears threatening. "I can't lose him, Kasen."
"We won't." His voice is fierce, certain. "I won't let you. Nothing’s going to happen."
He helps me into his truck, buckling me in, and we speed toward the hospital. I grip his hand, trying to breathe through the fear, trying to ignore the way my back aches and my stomach feels tight.
"Talk to me," Kasen says, his thumb rubbing circles on my palm. "Tell me what you're feeling."
"Scared," I admit. "More scared than I've ever been."
"Physical symptoms, Pink."
I check in with myself. "Back pain. The contractions are coming every four or five minutes now. He's moving, though. I can feel him between them."
"Good. That's good." Kasen's jaw is tight, but his voice stays calm. "Reed's the best. If anyone can handle this, it's him."
"Why were you being even more over the top than usual today? How’d you know?"
"Because you've been working longer hours, and when you get stressed, you react differently now. I've been watching andfucking worried." He glances at me. "I had a feeling something was off today."
The simple fact that he knows me this well, that he's been paying such close attention, makes warm little grasshoppers hop around in my stomach.
"Thank you," I whisper. "For taking care of me."
"Always," he says simply and squeezes my hand.
At the hospital, everything becomes a blur of monitors and nurses and Reed in full professional mode, examining me while Kasen doesn’t move an inch from my side and never once lets go of my hand.
"Everything looks good," Reed announces after what feels like forever. "All your tests are normal. The baby's heartbeat is strong and regular. What you're experiencing appears to be pre-term labor that's resolved on its own, likely triggered by stress and fatigue. We'll monitor you for a few hours to make sure everything stays quiet, but I think you and the little guy are going to be just fine."
The relief is so intense I start crying. Not pretty tears, but ugly, exhausted sobs that seem to come from somewhere deep inside me.
"Hey," Kasen murmurs, wiping my face with his thumbs. "You're both okay."
"I was so scared," I hiccup into his chest after he sits on the bed next to me and wraps his arms around me. "I thought... if something happened because I was being stubborn about work..."
"Nothing happened," he says firmly. "And from now on, you're listening to your body and to me when I tell you to take it easy."
"Yes, sir," I manage, half-laughing through my tears.
Reed clears his throat. "I'm recommending modified bed rest for the next week. No long hours at the office, no late nights, andlots of rest. And Wren?" He waits until I look at him. "Let him take care of you." He smirks. “Doctor’s orders.”
