Two Nights in Paris

by Delaney Diamond

  “Okay, calm down. Can I say one thing, though? We could have been married months ago.”

  “Really, Stephan? You’re saying I told you so right now? You said yourself you didn’t exactly ask me to marry you before. You basically told me that your mother would force you to marry me. So excuse me if I didn’t jump at the chance!”

  She was so cute when she was mad. He grabbed her face and pressed a hard kiss to her lips. Then he pulled back and grinned. “You want to be my wife today? Then, damn it, I’m going to make it happen.”

  He picked up his phone and jumped up. First, he put in a call to the concierge service he used and gave them the task of tracking down an officiant and getting a car and driver to his house. He wanted to be prepared to go to the hospital if she indeed was in labor.

  Next, he went in search of one of Brit Wong’s cards. Usually, if he was in trouble, he called Sylvie and she called Brit, but Stephan had received cards from the attorney before. After a search that took longer than he liked, he found one in a drawer in a table a few feet from his bed.

  Marching back to the nursery, he dialed the attorney’s direct line. Brit answered right away, and Stephan explained the situation—that Roselle was in labor and he needed a marriage license so they could be married today.

  “Both you and Roselle have to be present to obtain the license,” Brit explained.

  Stephan kept his gaze on Roselle. One hand rested on her belly, and she shifted in the chair as if trying to get comfortable.

  “That’s not going to happen, so you’ll have to do it without us being there,” Stephan said, pacing the floor.

  “And how do you propose I do that?”

  “I’m sure you’ll think of something.”

  “I’m not a magician, Stephan,” Brit said dryly.

  “Make it happen, Brit. You’ve worked magic before. If you can get me out of jail in the middle of the night on a weekend, you can get me a marriage license today before my fiancée has our baby. I’m counting on you.”

  There was a pause. Then Brit chuckled. “All right, send me a copy of her driver’s license. I already have your information. I’ll do my best.”

  “Thanks!”

  Hanging up, Stephan became confident he and Roselle would be married before the end of the day, and hopefully before their little bundle made an appearance. That was, until Roselle cried out and her face crumpled in pain.

  He rushed to her side. “Babe, do you need anything? Talk to me.”

  Roselle breathed heavily through her mouth for at least thirty seconds before she answered. Tears filled her eyes. “Seems our baby has other ideas about us getting married before she gets here. The contractions are coming closer together. How did the calls go?” She winced, holding her round belly.

  “Good. Attorney Wong is working on getting the marriage license. No guarantees, but I need a copy of your ID to pull it off. The concierge service will have a car sent and find us a minister to perform the ceremony. But babe, what do you mean the contractions are coming closer together? Do we need to call the doctor?”

  Roselle averted her eyes to a window in the room.

  Taking her chin, Stephan twisted her head around to face him. “Do I need to call the doctor? How far apart are the contractions?”

  She bit down on her bottom lip. “Six minutes.”

  “Shit.” His heart thumped erratically in his chest. His mother complained she’d been in labor with him for twenty hours, but his kid was racing to come out.

  Roselle grabbed his arm. “We still have time. Dr. Tambo said we should call when the contractions are five minutes apart.”

  Stephan had his doubts, but now that they’d made the decision to get married, he wanted her to be his wife before their baby was born, too. He placed his hands over her belly. “Hang in there, baby. We need you to stay put a little longer.”

  Roselle nodded and placed her hands over his. “Hang in there a little bit longer, sweetie.”

  Forty-five minutes later, a photo of Roselle’s ID had been texted to Attorney Wong, and a driver had arrived and waited in an SUV in the driveway.

  Roselle let out another wail of pain, and Stephan checked the time. He entered the information into the Notes app of his phone and saw a disturbing pattern. The contractions were coming much faster now.

  “I’m calling Dr. Tambo.”

  Roselle didn’t protest, she was too busy breathing through her mouth, eyes closed, head resting against the back of the chair.

  Stephan dialed the number and paced the floor, running a hand over the back of his head. “Hello, Dr. Tambo? For the past thirty minutes, the contractions are only four minutes apart now. Should we—”

  “Get her to the hospital. I’ll meet you there.”

  Stephan froze as fear gripped him. He ended the call. “We gotta go. Dr. Tambo’s on her way to the hospital.”

  Tears filled Roselle’s eyes.

  He walked over to where she sat and dropped to his haunches. “We weren’t planning to get married until I asked you to marry me today. And it’s clearly not going to happen until after the baby is born. We need to get to the hospital right now, or you’ll probably have our baby on this chair. There’s nobody else here but you and me, and I don’t know the first thing about delivering a baby. I want the two of you to be safe. Don’t you want the two of you to be safe?”

  She blinked rapidly, obviously distressed. “Yes,” she said, voice trembling.

  “Then let’s do this. Come on.” Stephan helped her up, and they carefully made their way down the staircase. When they almost reached the bottom, the doorbell rang. They looked at each other.

  “Maybe it’s the minister?” she whispered.

  Another contraction tore through her body and she cried out, doubling over, gripping the railing.

  “One minute!” Stephan yelled at the door.

  He held onto Roselle and rubbed her back until the pain passed.

  “Go,” she panted, hugging the railing.

  Stephan hurried to the door and swung it open. As luck would have it, both the minister and Attorney Wong had arrived at the same time.

  Brit held up the marriage license. “I have it.”

  The minister, an older male wearing glasses and his entire head gray, stuck out a hand. “Pastor Hunting. I hear you’re getting married today.”

  Stephan quickly shook his hand and ushered them inside. “Yeah, we are. Come on, let’s do this fast. My fiancée’s in labor.”

  Walking swiftly, they went to the staircase, and Roselle stood there, eyes wide. She looked terrified.

  “My water just broke.”

  Chapter 32

  “That’s it. I’m getting you out of here. We don’t have time to get married,” Stephan said grimly. He scooped her up in his arms.

  “I can marry you in the car,” Pastor Hunting quickly said. “We can right this wrong in God’s eyes.”

  Stephan opened his mouth to let the officiant know where he could shove his judgmental comment, but since he really wanted to marry Roselle and needed the pastor to do it, he swallowed his sharp rebuke.

  “Yes! Let’s do that,” Roselle said. She let out a pained cry and clung to Stephan, burying her face in his shoulder.

  “I’ve got you,” he whispered reassuringly.

  Their party of four rushed out of the house and Stephan settled Roselle in the back seat of the SUV and climbed in after her. When Pastor Hunting jumped in the front, Stephan tapped the back of the driver’s seat. “Get us to the hospital as fast as you can.”

  “Will do.”

  The driver pulled off the estate, racing down the street with Stephan cradling Roselle in the rear, and Brit following in his black Mercedes.

  Pastor Hunting turned to face them in the back seat and started. “We are gathered here today, to unite this man—”

  “Skip that part and talk faster,” Stephan urged.

  “Okay.” Pastor Hunting cleared his throat. “Do you, Stephan Brooks, take this wom
an to be your lawfully wedded wife? To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, in good times and bad, for richer or poorer, keeping solely unto her for as long as you both shall live?”

  He gazed at Roselle, who was breathing heavily and cradling her belly with both arms.

  “I do.” He’d never been more certain of anything in his life. He kissed the top of her head.

  The driver swung a hard left, and Stephan braced a hand against the ceiling of the car.

  “Do you, Roselle Parker—”

  Roselle let out a scream of agony and grabbed the driver’s seat. The driver glanced back at her with concern. His gaze met Stephan’s in the rearview mirror before returning to the road.

  “Breathe, babe, breathe,” Stephan said, rubbing her back.

  She couldn’t talk for long seconds because of the excruciating pain. Panting, she collapsed against the seat. “I am breathing!”

  Pastor Hunting nervously wiped his brow. “Do you, Roselle Parker, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband? To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, in good times and bad, for richer or poorer, keeping solely unto him for as long as you both shall live?”

  He’d barely finished the question when Roselle belted out, “I do!”

  “Is there a ring?” the officiant asked.

  “No,” Stephan answered.

  “By the authority vested in me by the state of Georgia, I now pronounce you husband and wife. What God hath joined together, let no man or woman put asunder. You may kiss… er… congratulations.”

  Stephan held Roselle’s hand and rested his head against hers. “We’re almost there, babe.”

  “We’re married. We did it.” A happy tear trickled down one of her cheeks.

  He wiped away the tear and grinned down at his bride. Man, she was beautiful. How did he get so lucky?

  The driver pulled to a hard stop in front of the hospital doors.

  Stephan hopped out and ran up to the reception desk. “My wife’s in labor,” he announced.

  A Black nurse immediately jumped up, but he didn’t wait around. He rushed back out to help Roselle out of the car.

  Brit pulled in directly behind them and hopped out of his Mercedes. “You need to sign this,” he said, waving the license.

  Roselle took several deep breaths through her mouth, gritted her teeth, and signed her name. Stephan did the same.

  The nurse came rushing out with a wheelchair. “We need to get her up to the maternity floor.”

  Roselle sank onto the chair, and the nurse wheeled her in.

  Beaming, Pastor Hunting held up the license. “I’ll take care of this. Congratulations!”

  “Congratulations!” Brit said.

  “Thank you!” Stephan went after Roselle and the nurse.

  Roselle let out a scream, tossing back her head and cradling her belly. Beads of sweat dotted right below the hairline on her forehead.

  Seeing her suffer and unable to do anything about it made Stephan feel helpless. “Should she get something for the pain?”

  “The doctor will decide that. Let’s get her upstairs first, okay?” The nurse looked at him with sympathetic eyes. She’d probably seen plenty of men lose their minds because they couldn’t alleviate their partner’s pain.

  They rode the elevator to the maternity floor, and when the doors opened, Dr. Tambo, a tall African woman with dark brown skin and round cheeks, was waiting for them.

  She smiled encouragingly. “How are we doing?” she asked in a soothing voice.

  “Awful,” Roselle whimpered.

  “Contractions are only three minutes apart now and her water broke,” Stephan added.

  “That’s good news! That means your little girl is on her way.” The doctor signaled to one of the nurses on the maternity floor. “Let’s get her into the delivery room and changed.”

  Stephan was about to follow, but a white nurse came out of nowhere and placed a hand on his arm. “Before you go, I need to get you registered.”

  “I need to be with her.”

  “You will be shortly, but we need to confirm a few things. It’ll only take a few minutes. Name?”

  “Stephan Brooks and Roselle Parker,” he said irritably, his eyes following Roselle as she disappeared down the hall.

  The registration did not only take a few minutes. He contemplated leaving the nurse with her stupid paperwork, but he answered all the questions though he desperately wanted to be in the delivery room with Roselle, to give her his support.

  Once he finished with the formalities and signed a few papers, the nurse escorted him to the delivery room. “You’ll want to change out of these clothes or protect them.” She opened the door and handed him some scrubs.

  He couldn’t see Roselle because a curtain was pulled around the bed she was lying on, but he heard her moans, the voices of the medical staff, and machines beeping.

  “You can change in there.” The nurse pointed to the restroom.

  “Give me another big push,” he heard Dr. Tambo say. Roselle’s high-pitched scream lasted for a long time. He threw on the scrubs and booties on his feet and quickly exited the bathroom.

  He heard Roselle sobbing. “Where’s my husband? Where’s Stephan? I can’t do this without him. Please, where is he?” Panic had crept to the edges of her voice.

  Husband. He was her husband. She was his wife.

  “I’m right here,” he said in a loud voice. He stepped around the curtain to see Dr. Tambo positioned between Roselle’s legs, and two nurses standing close by.

  Roselle stretched out a hand and he took it, squeezing gently.

  He kissed her knuckles. “Where’d you think I was? Did you think I’d left you?”

  She rubbed away the tears that trickled down the corners of her eyes.

  “I don’t know. I panicked,” she whispered, eyes wet.

  He brushed damp, stray hairs away from her forehead. “You’re not alone anymore, remember? I’ll always be right here, okay?”

  She nodded and visibly relaxed against the pillows. Then another contraction hit.

  “Push,” Dr. Tambo said.

  Roselle rose up off the bed and yelled, voice hoarse, eyes squinting as she gripped the mattress. When the moment passed, she fell back, sucking air into her lungs with heavy inhalations. “I can’t... I can’t do this. It’s too hard.”

  Stephan kissed her forehead, wishing he could take her pain away. He gently stroked her hair. “You’re doing great, babe. Our little girl is almost here.”

  Seconds later, Roselle lifted her upper body into a tense crunch as she yelled. She crushed Stephan’s forearm in a death hold, and he gritted his teeth against her tight grip. Panting heavily, she fell back against the pillows again, looking exhausted.

  “That’s it. I see the head. We’re almost there. Give me another big push,” Dr. Tambo coaxed.

  Roselle pushed hard again, her entire body shaking with the stress and strain of the delivery. Stephan whispered soothing words, giving the support she needed as her fingernails sank into his flesh.

  Her hoarse cries filled the delivery room and were finally joined by the wail of their little girl.

  Chapter 33

  Roselle came awake slowly. She shifted in the bed and moaned, freezing when her sore, aching body reminded her she’d given birth hours before.

  “Careful,” a voice warned from off to her right.

  She shifted again, wincing as she twisted her head to see Sylvie Johnson seated on a chair beside the bed. What was she doing here?

  She must have come straight from work. She wore her long hair secured at the nape, and a burgundy peplum dress with long sleeves ruffled around the wrists. Very little jewelry. Stylish and elegant as always.

  “How are you feeling?” the older woman asked.

  “Fine.” Roselle glanced around the private suite. They were alone. She wondered what Stephan’s mother would say. She probably wouldn’t be pleased about the rushed marriage. She braced herself.

&n
bsp; “You can’t possibly be feeling fine. You pushed another human being out of your body.”

  Roselle smiled weakly. “I feel like I’ve been run over by a car,” she admitted.

  “That’s about right. But your little one is worth it.” Sylvie stood and went over to a table. She poured ice water from a pitcher into a glass and handed it to Roselle.

  “Thank you.” She swallowed the water gratefully. When she’d drained the glass, Sylvie took it.

  “More?”

  “No, that’s enough.”

  Sylvie replaced it on the table and remained standing next to the bed.

  “I had them increase the temperature in the room. It was freezing cold, and I made it clear that my daughter-in-law needed to be comfortable, not freezing to death. Are you comfortable?”

  “Yes.” Sylvie had referred to her as her daughter-in-law!

  “Stephan explained to me that you were married en route to the hospital. I’m happy that you’re both married. That’s what I wanted in the first place. I’m disappointed in the way that it happened. Of course you know, we will have a proper celebration, once you’re feeling better?”

  “Yes,” Roselle said, because that was the right answer.

  “Good. We’ll discuss the particulars at a later date. Stephan stepped out for a few minutes. He’s been here the entire time, watching over you and Avery.” Her face softened when she said her granddaughter’s name. “He’s going to be a great father. I don’t know if you’ve seen him with his nieces, but they adore him. You won’t be lacking in support. Take advantage and get as much rest as possible. You’re going to need it with a newborn.”

  Roselle nodded her understanding, still waiting for the fireworks or whatever was coming. She didn’t know what was coming, but she sensed there was more Sylvie wanted to say, and a coil of tension kept her from completely relaxing in her presence.

  “I hope you know I expect you back at work after your maternity leave.”

  “You want me back?”

  Sylvie had been cordial during the pregnancy, but Roselle assumed her kindness had been because of Stephan and the new grandbaby on the way. After having an affair with her son, the abrupt way she’d quit the company, and the rushed wedding, Roselle had been certain Sylvie wouldn’t want her back at the company. She’d been prepared to find another position somewhere else when she started looking again.