An agonized groan is all that she gets in response.
I glance at Julie. “Is there anything you can give her?”
Julie smiles cheerfully from the bottom of the bed. “Let’s take a look at you, pet, and we can see what’s what.”
Rosie nods shakily, taking a deep breath from the gas and air machine.
She briefly lets go of my hand to readjust her hospital gown, and I use the opportunity to flex my aching fingers. My girl is strong as hell.
Raised voices from the hall catch both of our attention.
“No way,” says a voice that sounds suspiciously like Anya.
I glance down at Rosie, but she’s barely registered the commotion, her eyes closed as she rides out her pain.
“What on earth?” Julie mutters, glancing towards the door.
“She’s my daughter. I’m going in there,” says the other voice. Andrea.
Rosie’s panicked eyes open and latch on mine. “Oh God.”
I clasp her flailing hand in mine. “What do you want me to do baby? I’ll do it.”
Rosie bites her lip as a contraction tears through her body. “Get her out of here,” she pants.
I wait until her fingers relax their death grip on my hand before I stand from my seat and press a kiss to her head. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
Julie sends me a comforting look before she takes a seat between Rosie’s spread legs.
I march to the door, swinging it open and taking in the scene in front of me.
Anya is starfished against the door, blocking a red faced Andrea and a pale Terry from entering. I tap Anya’s shoulder gently. “Can you sit with Rosie for a second?”
Anya nods her head, shooting a glare at Andrea before ducking under my arm.
“Rosie’s sleeping,” I say.
Andrea huffs peering into the room as the door swings closed. “Her eyes are open.”
“That’s how she sleeps.”
I raise my arms and start to usher the pair further down the corridor and further away from Rosie.
Irritation flares in my gut. I want to be inside the room with my girlfriend, feeding her ice chips and words of encouragement instead of out here having this conversation. “You both need to leave,” I say, guiding them back towards the waiting room.
“I’m her mother. She needs me.”
I clench my jaw.
“I don’t know why that girl had the nerve to stop me. I had to find out from the staff at the hotel that my own daughter had gone into labor, can you imagine? And the way she spoke to me at her party?—”
She tries to brush past my arm and I finally snap. “You being here is not helping Rosie. She doesn’t want you here.”
Her jaw drops, her slim cheeks gaunt as my words settle in the empty corridor. She flusters for a response, but I raise my hand.
“Enough. I don’t want to hear it. I know the stunt you pulled earlier, and I know how you’ve treated the woman I love for her entire life. Rosie has asked that you stay away whilst she’s in labor, and I’m here to make sure you respect her wishes.”
“Howdareyou? I’m going in that room whether you like it or not,” Andrea seethes, before turning to her husband. “I knew she’d pull a childish stunt like this. I don’t know how she’s ever going to be a good moth?—”
