Laura Wright - Baby and The Beast

“Yes, I do.” He opened the fridge and started rifling through it. “Whether the payoff is emotional, physical or monetary, everybody expects one.”

“Maybe that’s true of some people, but…” Her words trailed off as the dull pain in her back suddenly shot down her hips. She sucked in a breath of air and let it out slowly as the pain eased. What she really needed to do was finish her sandwich and go take that bath.

“Well, you’ve done enough for me,” she said finally. “And as soon as this storm clears, we’ll call it even, all right?”

“We’ll see.”

She rolled her eyes as she scooped up her sandwich. “Michael, I swear if you say that one more time…”

Something was happening. It wasn’t just eight-month pangs or Braxton Hicks contractions. Firecrackers were erupting in her abdomen, shooting what felt like shards of broken cut glass to every corner of her body. Her sandwich fell to the floor as she leaned over, gripping her belly as another spear of pain drove down her spine, through her hips and circled her belly.

Michael was at her side in seconds. “What’s wrong? What is it?”

“I need to go—” She gasped.

“Where do you need to go? Back to bed?”

She shook her head. “No. To the hospital. I need to go to the hospital.” She glanced up at him, her breath catching in her throat as she felt the pain rising again like a gigantic wave set to crash. “The baby’s coming.”

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