Struggle to Forever: a friends to lovers duet

by Lilliana Anderson

  “My waters broke and I’m having contractions. I've called the hospital, and they’re expecting us.”

  “Oh my god. This is really happening, isn’t it?” He’s freaking out a little as he pulls on the pants and shirt I’m holding out to him. “Why are you so calm?”

  “I’m not calm, Elliot. I'm about to have a giant baby come out of my vagina. I’m about as far from calm as I can be right now,” I answer tonelessly. I actually think I’m in shock.

  Elliot

  I carry Paige’s bag and hold her hand as we walk carefully down the two flights of stairs to get to the car. A contraction hits her when we’re only a few steps away, and she doubles over, clutching her belly and she moans. I have no idea what to do except rub her back and talk softly to her until the pain ebbs away.

  “OK?” I ask, checking that she’s fine to continue to the car. She nods quickly, and I guide her to the passenger side, dropping her bag on the back seat before getting in and driving us to the hospital.

  This isn’t like any other birth situation. Because of Paige’s past, and her mental health, there’s a real chance giving birth could trigger a depressive episode brought on from the trauma her mind associates with giving birth. I’m excited to meet our baby. But I'm fucking petrified of losing my love. It’s delicate.

  Reaching out, she grabs my arm while I’m driving as another contraction hits. “Look at me, Paige. Keep your eyes open,” I instruct, my heart beating in my chest so hard it’s echoing through my ears. “Stay here with me.”

  “Elliot,” she gasps. “It hurts. It fucking hurts.”

  A tinge of relief hits me when she says my name. She’s still here.

  Paige

  Wave after wave of contractions take over my body as I’m ushered into the delivery suite. I hold on to Elliot for dear life. He’s keeping me grounded and in the moment. I refuse to slip away. I refuse.

  The midwife informs us that the doctor should be in shortly to check on my progress, but she wants to check me over first. She presses her hands over my stomach, trying to feel which way the baby is lying.

  “Are you getting a lot of back pain?”

  I nod. “Yes. It feels like my contraction pain is radiating out of my spine.” I’m grimacing as I feel the start of another one.

  “The baby’s posterior.”

  “What? What does that even mean?” Elliot interrupts, worry etched in his face.

  “Everything’s fine. It just means her pain is more concentrated. I’d offer you something for the pain, Paige—”

  “No. No drugs,” I gasp.

  “OK. I don’t think we’ll have time, anyway. You’re already grunting so the baby is probably coming soon OK?”

  I nod quickly, trying desperately to breathe through the pain as it overwhelms my body. I roll onto my knees, trying to ease the pain in my back and scrunch my eyes closed, crying.

  “You’re doing so well, Paige. Keep breathing for me. Can you look at me?”

  I shake my head and whimper as Elliot rubs my back. “Then keep listening to my voice. Can you do that?” I nod. My counsellor told me the best way to avoid triggering the return of my symptoms is to stay present and clear-headed. If I lose myself to the pain, my brain could be an arsehole and give me flashbacks to Phoenix’s birth. I don’t want to get lost in that misery again. I want to be here in this new world where I have love and I'm starting a family. I need to be here to welcome my baby. I need to stay. Focus, Paige.

  Elliot continues to coo at me softly, telling me I’m doing great. “It just hurts so much, Elliot. Where are the endorphins your body is supposed to produce? The books said there’d be endorphins to take the pain away.” I cry when a contraction starts again, squeezing his hand. “Oh god!” I grunt as my body bears down of its own accord. “Elli-oooooooooot!”

  “Breathe, Paige, breathe as you push, we’re not far now,” the midwife coaches.

  Panting, I try to catch my breath before another contraction comes. I can’t believe how fast this is all happening.

  “She’s pushing? Shouldn’t she be on her back or something? She can’t give birth on all fours can she?” Elliot asks the midwife frantically.

  “It’s fine, Dad. Just let nature take its course,” she soothes, turning back to me. “Now Paige, when the baby’s head is just about out, you’ll feel a burn. I want you to try not to push when that's happening, give your body time to stretch, so you don’t tear, OK?”

  I nod, feeling like I'm a torture recipient. I’m so angry at nature right now. Why does this have to hurt so much?

  Elliot

  My eyes grow wide as Paige bears down and I see the baby’s head crowning. “Oh my god, Paige. I can see the baby. You’re doing it!”

  She screams out, and I cheer her on, maintaining my hold on her hand as I watch our baby emerge from her body. “Elliot,” she cries, her voice like sandpaper as she fights with her body and her pain.

  “You’re so strong, Paige. We’re almost there. It’s almost over.”

  “Breathe through the burn, Paige,” the midwife coaches, preparing herself for the birth of our child.

  “I can’t breathe. I can’t stop pushing!” Paige yells, grunting and groaning as she bears down again. Our baby’s head pops out, closely followed by her body.

  I can hardly breathe, watching that little scrunched-up face as it gurgles out a loud cry is the most precious moment of my life. “She’s here, Paige. Our baby girl is here!”

  “Let me see.” I help her roll over so the midwife can place the baby on her stomach. “Oh Elliot,” she breathes. “She’s beautiful, look at her. Look at our daughter.” I touch the face of our screaming little bundle and kiss Paige happily.

  “And look at you. You were magnificent.”

  “Would you like to cut the cord?” The midwife asks me, holding out a pair of surgical scissors. I nod, taking them from her before I work them to cut the cord that connected mother and baby for nearly nine months.

  The door to the delivery suite opens, and the doctor walks in. He takes a couple of steps and freezes. “Oh, guess I’m a bit late,” he comments.

  “Yes, this one couldn’t wait to meet her parents,” the midwife says.

  “Well congratulations,” he says, moving over to the midwife to talk quietly with her for a moment about the delivery and Paige’s perceived health before congratulating us again and leaving.

  Paige

  Staring down at the child in my arms, I’m so overwhelmed with love that the pain of the delivery seems like a distant memory. Our midwife is helping me as I try to latch the baby onto my breast for her first feeding. It’s a lot harder than I thought it would be and hurts a little when the baby suckles before she has her mouth open properly.

  “So do you have a name for her?” she asks when she’s sure the baby is attached properly.

  Elliot and I look at each other and smile. We had thought long and hard about what our baby’s name will be. We wanted it to be representative of the second chance at life and love we were all getting. “Grace,” I say, running my finger over her tiny cheek. “Her name is Grace.”

  “Grace Roberts,” Elliot puts in.

  I look at him and laugh. “Who says she gets your last name?”

  “It will be your last name too,” he says as a matter of fact.

  “Really?”

  “Yes,” he says, wrapping his arms gently around both me, and our daughter as she feeds contentedly in my arms. He lowers his head and looks me in the eyes, a serious expression on his face. “Paige Larsen, will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?”

  Tears spill from my eyes as I nod my head frantically. “Of course I will, Elliot,” I gasp. “Of course I will.”

  He steps away from the bed and searches through my bag for a moment, returning with a small black ring box. He sits beside me and opens it, revealing a beautiful ring with a gold band that overlaps itself in two swirls around a single diamond suspended between the metal. I hold my shaking han
d out as he places it on my finger, admiring it as it catches the light.

  He leans in and kisses me, resting his other hand gently on our daughter’s tiny head. “I love you, Paige. Thank you so much for letting me into your heart and giving me a daughter.”

  “I love you too. But, we made her together. She’s a gift for the both of us. And I think she’s the reason I’m still here.”

  “You’re the reason, you’re here, Paige. Your strength and determination are your greatest characteristics. I’m so incredibly proud of you.”

  As I take a moment to breathe in and absorb our little family, I can’t help but decide that I’m proud of me too. I have love. I have hope. I’m still here.

  Epilogue

  Six Months Later

  Elliot

  The delicate guitar intro to Jason Mraz’s I Won’t Give Up plays over the speakers set up either side of the flower-covered archway. My heart picks up, excited, nervous. This is the day I’ve been waiting for.

  Fond and friendly faces look around, seated in chairs lined up either side of a bottle-blue strip of carpet. Low gasps go up as Naomi steps up with Grace in her arms. Pictures are taken while petals are thrown, and my beautiful girl gurgles and coos. The perfect little flower girl.

  Paige’s foot touches the carpet just as the first chorus lifts the tone of our perfect song. We will never give up on each other. Tears fill my eyes when they meet hers, and she’s smiling. She’s so stunning in a simple lace dress that perfectly suits our garden setting. It’s cut high in the front and low in the back, proudly displaying her phoenix tattoo and the memory of a life she beat to get here. She’s come so far in the year since I first met her, and I find her more amazing with every passing day. I can't wait to officially call her my wife.

  With our eyes on each other, she makes her way up the aisle, sparing a glance here and there for our audience. In the short time we’ve lived here, we’ve amassed quite a support system. Our English friends are here for us, along with a handful of friends and family from Australia. Our gathering is small and intimate. The perfect nuptials for our deeply private relationship. All that matters is our baby and each other.

  Reaching out her hand, Paige places it on Grace's chest, making a happy face at our daughter as she gives Naomi her flowers. She’s a natural mother. Caring and compassionate. I love the joy our baby girl has brought into our life, and I’m so proud of Paige for working so hard on being the mother she can be. I take a mental picture of mother and daughter and hope to god someone else is taking an actual photo. I need that on the wall at home.

  Just get over here and marry me already. I have to stop myself from grabbing her in my impatience. If I could have married her in the delivery room when I proposed, I would have. I want her to be mine in body and in name, and I don’t care how that happens. But for Paige, this ceremony is extra important. It’s something she never thought she’d experience, it’s another momentous step in what she likes to refer to as her rebirth. She’s shedding her old skin and becoming someone new. Someone who accepts the love she’s offered and is able to give love in return. Someone she couldn’t imagine being twelve months ago.

  When she turns to me, my chest about explodes. I love her more than words. This is it. We’re getting married in five, four, three, two…

  Paige

  Elliot holds out his hand. My face hurts from smiling and my eyes burn from my tears. How did I get this happy? Twelve months ago, I boarded a plane to escape my old life. I’d convinced myself that solitude and suffering were the only things I deserved in this world. Then I met this man on the plane and he made me laugh, he made me see a better world; he made my heart come back to life. And now we’re a family, and in a few glorious minutes, I get to be his wife. We get to be forever.

  “You look beautiful,” he whispers as I slip my hand in his. He still gives me tingles. It’s something I never want to go away. I want a lifetime of rapid beating hearts and secret smiles with this man.

  “So do you,” I return, admiring the fawn-coloured pants and vest combo he wears over a crisp white shirt and blue tie. He looks like a breath of fresh air, and I love that he’s rolled his sleeves up to reveal his tan and muscular forearms along with the recently healed tattoo that travels up his arm. I have a matching one; a vine that travels from wrist to elbow with our names and our daughter’s etched into the leaves. We even added Phoenix to it, which means so much to me, because she didn’t belong to him, but he says he wants to remember her with love, anyway. How did I get so lucky? He’s perfect for me.

  “Dearly beloved,” the minister starts, reciting time-honoured remarks as Elliot and I hold hands and grin like crazy. I love that we’re having a traditional service. There’s something about hearing the words we’ve always associated with weddings and feeling the weight and truth of them. Holy matrimony. An honourable estate that is not to be entered into unadvisedly or lightly, but reverently and soberly. I couldn’t have chosen these words better myself.

  “Repeat after me,” the minister instructs, and I inhale, filling my chest with the love in the air as I sink into the depth of Elliot’s beautiful blue eyes. This man is mine.

  “I, Elliot Roberts, take you, Paige Larsen, to be my lawfully wedded wife.” He gives my hands a gentle squeeze. “Before these witnesses I vow to love you and care for you as long as we both shall live. I take you, with all your faults and your strengths as I offer myself to you with all my faults and strengths. I will help you when you need help, and I will turn to you when I need help. I choose you as the person with whom I will spend my life.”

  And now I’m crying. I’m getting married. I never thought I’d have this. My voice shakes with emotion as I recite my vows. “I, Paige Larsen, take you, Elliot Roberts, to be my lawfully wedded husband. Before these witnesses I vow to love you and care for you as long as we both shall live. I take you, with all your faults and your strengths as I offer myself to you with—” my voice catches with emotion, because Elliot is taking on so many more faults than I am. And he loves me anyway. All my broken pieces, he holds in his hands like tiny treasures.

  “I love you,” he whispers, reaching up to wipe the tears from my cheeks as I gather my words again.

  “With all my faults and strengths,” I continue. “I will help you when you need help, and I will turn to you when I need help—” cue a new torrent of happy tears “—I choose you as the person with whom I will spend my life.”

  “You did good.” He smiles, touching my cheeks, his thumbs working like windscreen wipers against my tears. “I’m so proud of you.”

  Elliot

  The minister continues with the blessing of the rings, while we continue to grin and cry at each other. I’m such a sap that while I’m trying to wipe Paige’s cheeks, tears are falling down mine. Besides the birth of our daughter, this is the happiest moment of my life. I’m ridiculously and deeply in love, and this ceremony is reaffirming my emotions with every uttered word.

  “If you’ll exchange the rings,” the minister says, prompting me to release Paige’s cheeks while Gary—who flew over to be my best man—hands me the ring.

  “Thanks, mate,” I whisper. He nods, looking a little choked up on emotion himself.

  Positioning the gold band on Paige’s left ring finger, I gaze into her eyes. “Paige, I give you this ring as a symbol of our vows. With all that I am, and all that I have, I honour you.” My voice waivers, and I have to sniff as I slide the ring all the way down her finger, trying to get through this without turning into a complete blubbering mess. “With this ring, I thee wed.”

  Paige and I laugh at each other’s tears as Naomi hands her my ring. “I should have brought tissues,” she whispers as she positions it on my finger.

  “Me too.” I sniff and smile.

  “Elliot,” Paige says, holding my hand with both of hers. “I give you this ring as a symbol of our vows, and with all that I am, and all that I have, I honour you. With this ring, I thee wed.” As she pushes my ring
down my finger, the minister announces that we may now share a kiss.

  With the biggest grin I’ve ever known, I place my hands on either side of Paige’s face. “I will gladly kiss my bride,” I say, planting a soulful kiss against her pretty pink lips while thanking the gods for sending this goddess into my life.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you Mr and Mrs Roberts.”

  The glory of a thousand happy endings settles in my heart at the sound of those words.

  “I love you, Elliot Roberts” she whispers.

  “I love you too, Paige Roberts.”

  With our hearts full and our lives connected, we turn to our gathered group of loved ones, drinking in their applause and combined happiness as a married couple. When I think about our journey to this point, I can’t find a single moment I’m regretful for. Each moment we shared and every hurdle we overcame was filled with purpose and direction. It all led us to this moment of purity and joy. While we know the future isn’t always going to be perfect, we know that we’ll always have each other. Because like the lyrics in our wedding song, we’ll never give up. Our love is forever.

  Keep reading for more of Paige in her backstory novella, Phoenix. But get your tissues. It isn’t an easy read.

  The Backstory

  Paige: Phoenix

  Phoenix - Prologue

  Paige – 5 years old

  “Mummy!” It’s dark, and the dream feels like spiderwebs against my face.