I somehow, awkwardly manage to help lever her down onto her back on the cold floor, yanking my handbag over as a cushion; thanking Gucci for making slouchy bags that I tend to fill with enough crap to actually warrant being used as a cushion, and prop her in a less traumatic looking position. This is super awkward.
She automatically pulls her legs up when she gets flat. Her feet flat on the floor and knees bent and opening wide, pretty much I assume, the birthing pose of women.
Her long dress is hanging still, to her ankles, and she is already panting again like an overheated dog. Another notch of panic hits me in the gut and I shuffle myself to her feet on my knees, shaking like a leaf and unsure how this is going to go down, my eyes keep flicking to the hall, and every noise, making me pray for Jake.
For the love of all that is holy.
‘You need to get them off, and my shoes….. If this is happening then I want them off.’ Emma frowns at me from her position, lifting her head up enough to see me over her knees and I can see how badly she is clutching at the leg of a nearby chair. Squeezing the shit out of the chrome leg and I just thank my stars it’s not my hand. She could clearly crush every bone in my little dainty digits if she had a grip on me instead.
Taking a deep breath, I lift the hem of her skirt, push it up to her knees in a bid to see what I am doing, and lean in to try and get to the waist band of her surprisingly sexy black underwear, that looks decidedly non-maternal. I curb the urge to sit up and give her a raised brow look, chastising myself that she is married to Jake, and there is no way in hell she was ever going to dawn maternity wear and spandex, even when bulging like a whale.
I manage to locate the low waist, turning my head aside to make sure I do not get traumatised with a view of Emma that even brain bleaching can’t remove, and slide them down and off; averting my eyes as I manoeuvre them over her ankles and throw them aside. I look down, unbuckling the straps on her flat sandals and definitely do not look up to see a full frontal of her lady parts right now. I seriously would never be able to look her in the eye ever again if I had committed to memory this kind of intimate knowledge.
The clattering noise and chaos of someone falling in the front door makes me jerk my head up, sandal in hand and am relieved to see Jake skating across the marble floor with a look of sheer panic across his face. Arrick in hot pursuit and looking a lot more together, although he is moving as fast. Catching the sight of them from my view point, I wave a sandal in the air frantically.
‘In here…Kitchen!’ I bark as both heads snap my way, I feel an upmost sense of complete relief that the brigade is here and Jake can take over, doing what Jake does. Helping his wife bring another baby into this world and I can get my ass from out of between Emma’s thighs.
Warm relief washes over me as they both head my way, eyes fixed on the scene before them. I genuinely feel like kissing him right now, for just getting here this fast.
Like a slap in the face, something hot, wet, fired with the speed of a canon, hits me full frontal in the chest, neck, and stomach, in a crazily horrifying moment that makes me gasp in absolute shock. Hot water, sticky, even slimy, weird smelling fluid, soaks through my dress, down my legs and saturates pretty much my entire upper body. My neck and face splattered with it and I gulp in sheer repulsion. Gasping, horrified and unsure how to react at whoever just threw a bucket of goo at me.
‘Emma? What in the fuck was that?’ I become completely immobile, sat stone still with arms splayed out in sheer disgust, blinking at her as though she just assaulted me.
‘My waters broke.’ She pants at me, my stomach lurching and the overwhelming urge to gag as I realise I just got hit, face on, with her entire body of birthing fluids. I literally feel the blood drain from my face as Jake skids down behind me and slides me over, uncaring about the fact that he is now kneeling in the puddle where I was, unconcerned with how disgusting this really is, and I am left to just gape in shock. Not sure how to react.
‘I’ll get ummm… Towels.’ Arrick’s eyes wash over me, that hint of disgust that disappears with a half-smile when he catches me throwing him a hostile glare of ‘don’t you fucking dare’. Arrick takes off, like his ass is on fire and I skate backwards on my butt and palms, to give Jake more room.
Emma’s panting has become constant moaning and judging by the crazily white expression on Jake’s face, the way he’s leaning between her legs and his focus seriously intent, I guess it’s not really going to wait on us getting a midwife. I mentally wonder if I should maybe be phoning emergency services, but my phone is way over there on the table and I am literally glued to the floor, by sticky, icky, weird baby gunk.
‘I’m here baby, we got this. We can do this. Look at me Bambino, I’m here. I got you.’ Jake is in calm and controlled mode, looking at her from his kneeling spot, he leans up and over her, caging her in his arms, working himself to hold his weight over her carefully and bends down to kiss her on the mouth. Eyes to hers, breathing with her, slowly, as he stays nose to nose and says something softly under his breath.
I see Emma instantly calm, from rapid panic panting to slower even breaths, Jake in time with her, his hand comes up and brushes the hair from her face gently, brushes the perspiration settling on her brow away too and kisses her on the forehead, lingering tenderly. Emma seems to give up all control to him, sighing and breathing slowly, watching him with a focus that is unbreakable. Jake really does seem like he has this right now, and all I can do is gawp.
When she moans out hard, he scoots back to between her legs, lifts the edge of her dress and shrugs down to look. Arrick reappears with an armful of towels, a really boyishly unsure expression, and the nanny at his back, who starts flapping.
‘Oh, I’ll call the midwife, paramedics.’ She blurts out and runs off again, obviously not intending to help. I catch sight of a couple of housekeeper’s scurry into the hall, to peek, and then scurry off again.
What good are they?
Arrick’s slides down beside me, making me aware that this whole time I have been sitting on the floor, getting a side view of this entire thing and acting like a weirdo in complete shock. He starts dabbing at my clothes, rubs a towel across my throat, and chin, and brings my focus back to him. I see the worried look flicker across his face, he looks from me to them, and then back again. My stomach lurches.
‘Does Jake know what he’s doing?’ I whisper impulsively, suddenly terrified about the lack of medical personnel and Arrick only smiles at me, that crazily calm ability to go into controlled mode and keep me steady when he knows I am freaking out. Just a smile can reel me back in.
‘Yeah, he delivered Lucas in the birthing pool they set up last time. He went to like every class known to mankind on doing this. Trust him, he’s got his.’ Arrick’s seems way too calm and all I can think about is ‘fuck that shit without drugs’. It looks horrendous. I don’t ever want to experience that kind of pain at all, ever, ever.
Jake does look like he is managing to keep his shit together, breathing with her, keeping her eyes on him and talking to her in soft even tones as he encourages her, and keeps her focused. He looks unflappable, the CEO who can reel in the control when he needs it and it’s strangely assuring. They can be so alike at times, Jake and Arry, and I wonder if this is how he would be. If it was his woman, his baby.
Emma just looks, well, like she’s having a baby. Panting, sweating, writhing around and breathing hard. Trying to keep herself controlled and listening to him, looking to him for direction, putting all her trust and faith in him that he will get her through this, and I suddenly feel overly emotional. Looking at Arrick and knowing I would need that of him, I do always need that of him.
Emma suddenly arches her back and groans like a wild animal and Jake reaches out to Arrick’s dumped pile of towels and grabs a few, pulling them back between her legs on the floor and creating a nest of absorbency. Intent on what he’s doing, oblivious to our presence, not that either of us are worth anything right now.
Arrick with that face, complete horror and all ounces of facial control gone. It’s so completely not him at all, so unexpected that I let out an inappropriate giggle; it seems to catch his attention and he throws me that, ‘don’t even’, look before looking down at the sodden mess of ‘yuck’ I am dressed in. I grimace and shake it off, giving up with dabbing the unrepairable and watch Jake and Emma instead.
She grunts and arches again, before lifting her head, curling forward like she’s trying to do an ab crunch and seems to go into serious constipation face, her cheeks turning rosy red, her breathe held and stays that way for seconds. Crunching, grunting, god knows what? … I only imagine pushing.
‘Good girl, good girl.’ Jake encourages. From this angle, I can’t see anything but calves under her hitched-up dress, his hands are definitely up around her baby factory exit.
‘Breathe, relax and breathe. Almost came that time. Just take a second and try again baby, pant it out. Breathe.’ Jake is crazily cool, despite me assuming he would fall to shit. The master of command at his helm right now, and I guess, doing what Jake does. Taking care of his Emma.
Emma flops back, obviously stopping the horrendous pushing motion, exhaling hard, she already seems exhausted and ready to flake out, and it’s still in there. I squirm uncontrollably, serious biting on my lip as nerves and anxiety for my beloved Emma, hits me hard in the gut. Nausea overwhelms me, hands go back to shaking and my mind starts spewing out every worst-case scenario as fear hits me.
I feel myself grabbing Arrick’s hand and squeezing tight, anxiously watching, eyes glued to what is unfolding. He moves his hand in my hold, to make a better fit, and doesn’t flinch when I squeeze it harder at Emma’s painful moan. This is just way too stressful to watch.
She curls up again, closing her eyes tight, making a low, low, moaning noise, that would probably better befit a scene from the exorcist and sends shivers down my spine. Jake is curled forward, his butt on the floor and legs either side as he gets as low as he can, face fully focused under her dress and a look of complete concentration.
‘Push baby… She’s coming.’ He leans in, I see his upper arm muscles flex, obviously holding or helping somehow, in a way I do not want to even know about. Emma grunts and then suddenly a weird noise, like spluttering, choking, and I completely freak out, turning my face into Arrick’s chest and covering my face with my palms. A million thoughts racing through my head.
Babies die in childbirth, mom’s die in childbirth, people bleed out, babies born unbreathing and they can’t revive them. So many things that can go wrong right now, and it all rests in Jake’s hands. He’s not a fucking doctor!
I can’t handle it, it’s too much to bare and Arrick’s arms tightening fully around me, despite the disgusting dampness between us, has me blocking it all out to just squeeze my face against his chest until this is over. I don’t want her to die, I don’t want baby Ava to die. I want this to be over and everyone fine and like a million doctors running in the door right now, to make sure she’s okay.
God, I love Emma so much, and I would die if anything happened to her.
I feel the tears and panic hit me hard, sobbing against him as his face comes to my neck and he cuddles me in closer. His breath in the crook of my neck where my shoulder meets. He just encircles me tightly, breathing shallowly for what seems like forever.
‘Hey, hey.’ He soothes, his hand coming to the back of my hair as he buries his fingers in the short silky lengths and runs fingertips over my skin. His other arm so tight around my waist and pulling me to him in a truly intimate hug that has us entangled firmly.
‘Sophie, it’s over… Open your eyes and look. She’s okay, the baby is out.’ His soft, happy voice, brings me out of my own head and I suddenly realise I can hear a baby crying. Looking up at him in complete question, climbing back out of my own head.
No more grunting and noise, just a lot of little tiny cries from a new voice. I blink, catching his focus on mine for a second as he nods and smiles widely, and then turn my head against him to look back at Jake.
Jake is wrapping a little bundle in a towel, wiping it’s face and head gently, wiping its little mouth as it screams its little lungs out; holding it close and nuzzling it to him gently. He looks every bit like a guy who has just fallen head over heels in love again, that proudly maternal, and crazily emotional look on his face, eyes glazed and intense furrowed brow as he locks eyes with his new daughter for the first time and smiles. He leans forward, bringing the baby to Emma carefully, watching how he leans over her, holding his weight on his strong arm and manoeuvring carefully with his precious parcel. Emma looks wiped out, exhausted beyond belief, majorly pale, but really okay. I sigh with upmost relief, tears still rolling down my cheeks.
I avoid the mess that is still going on around the floor where Jake is kneeling, oblivious to his sweatpants being covered in a whole lot of blood, and god knows what else, and the long blue chord seemingly attached to her nether’s. I try to focus on just them and the baby.
Emma takes the little bundle, pulls the towel open so she can lay it face down on the exposed part of her cleavage in the strappy dress, skin on skin, cooing and crying happily as Jake kisses her on the forehead. Beaming with pride, stroking her face with his newly freed hand and tells her how much he loves her. A truly beautiful moment, welcoming their new little bundle with so much love.
I turn and wrap myself back around Arrick, happiness and relief overwhelming me from the sheer emotion of all of this, sliding my arms around that strong neck and pull him to my face to snuggle in. He doesn’t hesitate in leaning into me, squeezing me back, pulling back for a second as our eyes meet and there is an odd moment of something that passes between us. Something in the way he looks at me, that makes my heart flip over, a locking of eyes, a glance at my mouth as though he wants to kiss me, and then it’s gone.
‘They’re coming, on their way.’ The nanny gasps at the door and everyone looks up.
Chapter 19
Arrick and I stand back and watch Emma and the baby being loaded into the ambulance, under the watchful eye of Jake, climbing in beside her, fussing around her and their baby, before waving our way as the doors are shut and they are concealed from view.
Sylvana is in their home now, she came as soon as Arrick called to be with her grandbabies, despite the live-in nanny; and now we are outside, facing Emma’s house, across the road to give them all space. Excess to requirements and feeling completely surreal. Getting air from the craziness of the last hour of our lives and just taking it all in.
‘I feel totally wired. I can’t believe she had the baby right there in front of us.’ I beam, childishly happy as I grip Arrick’s arm, still bouncing around with the hyper energy that hit after the emotions cleared away. He grins at me indulgently, watching as I bop up and down like a giddy kid on a sugar high, and runs a hand down the back of my hair affectionately with his opposite hand.
‘It’s the adrenalin, you’re on a high. I always feel that way after a fight. You’ll probably crash soon, and sleep the best you have in a while…. It was grose, but pretty amazing, not sure I’ll be able to look at Emma in quite the same way though.’ He slides his arm out of my embrace and turns me slowly to him.
‘Maybe you should think about getting home, and getting cleaned up.’ He gestures down the soggy mess of my clothes, bringing me back to the fact I am covered in birthing fluids and not exactly feeling at my most comfortable. I had forgotten all about it in the excitement o
f the afters, with the arrival of medics and all the fluffing about with them.
‘Yeah… Not exactly my crowning moment.’ I try to peel my dress away and think better of it, lifting my hands in disgust instead, with a grimace, screwing up my face at the sodden mess and wondering if something like this really ever washes out of Louis Vuitton. I literally love this black shift dress to death.
‘Thank god I have a shower in my bedroom, that I can literally walk in and undress.’ I giggle, again, screwing up my face at the fact I am probably never going to recover from this. Maybe my dress won’t either, I’m pretty sure it’s dry clean only.
‘Could only happen to you Soph’s.’ Arrick laughs at me, leaning in to catch me on the forehead with a parting kiss as I look down once more at the icky mess, suddenly looking up, with his hand sliding onto my arm, means we collide nose to nose with mismatched timing. There’s an awkward moment as we giggle, laugh it off stupidly and try the ignore the sizzling weird tension that’s been there since the cuddle on the kitchen floor.
Arrick’s eyes turn serious, still close enough to almost touch, he moves in thoughtlessly and brushes his lips against mine almost instinctively. I feel myself pause, hold my breathe at the sudden soft contact that is completely unexpected. It’s almost chaste in its deliverance, but Arrick never aims for my mouth, he only ever has those two times, and they were definitely not innocent. He has always been a forehead, or temple, kind of kisser when it comes to showering me with affections, so I literally do not know how to react. Tingles and waves of butterflies sweep through me in high alert.
Arrick moves to pull away, doubts creeping in, crossing his face and plain to see; as though realising he shouldn’t be doing this, but I don’t let him. Impulsively caught in how good this feels to be this way with him, to have this sort of close intimacy. I catch his face between my palms in a flash and follow his retraction with a harder kiss, my mouth pressed to his in a show of bravado that I really do not feel right now. Pressing lips to his; it seems to flip some sort of switch between us as Arrick moves back into me with more intent, mouth finding mine fully, and a little hesitantly, adjusting his position so he can kiss me properly, softly, tenderly almost.
The Carrero Heart_Beginning_Arrick and Sophie Page 29