Page 26 of Hard To Love

Maybe he hadn’t been a worrywart for nothing?

Feet hit the ground, then heavy footsteps hurried toward me. I could only imagine Auggie jumping out and heading right for me. It wasn’t until then I let the phone fall from my hand. I held on to the armrest of the porch swing with a white-knuckled grip.

Another contraction hit.

Harder.

Faster.

The pressure so big it felt like I was going to be wiped out. Sweat was already forming at my neck, and beads rolled down my back.

“I got you, baby,” his deep voice soothed. “Talk to me.” I looked up, and sure enough, he was right in front of me. Kneeling, his hand on my forehead swiping away the sweat. His blue stare hit mine, and despite not knowing what to expect and the uncertainty of what was about to happen, I knew I’d be okay.

Auggie would make sure of it.

“It hit when I started talking to you,” I quickly shared, “I didn’t feel anything before, I promise, Auggie. I wasn’t trying to suck it up or anything.”

“I know, baby.”

“I was tired, but I’ve been tired the last two months—” I rambled.

“I know, baby. You think you can get up?”

I shook my head. “I don’t want to.”

“Honey, we gotta get you to the hospital.”

“But, Auggie, what if something bad happens?”

“Nothing bad is going to happen,” he reassured me.

Despite the fear in his own eyes, I believed him. “Help me up.” I extended my hand, and he took in a visible deep breath, leaned in, and pressed a kiss at my forehead.

“We got this, right?” He smiled, and I nodded.

“Right.” I breathed in and exhaled slowly.

With his help I got up and winced at the feeling of more liquid running down my legs. I looked down and got dizzy at the sight of something pink, almost red, running down my leg. “Auggie,” I whispered. His gaze followed my line of sight.

“Pop! Get the truck started! Call Mom!”

“Something’s wrong.” I had no idea why I was talking softly, but I couldn’t manage to speak above a whisper. Not when cold, hard fear rushed through my veins and held me hostage.

My mind rushed to remember the last time I had felt my cupcake kick, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t think. As if he was on the same wavelength, his hand touched my belly, and we stared at it as of silently ordering our baby to move.

Something snapped inside him.

“Auggie,” I gasped, but he didn’t wait or hesitate. With herculean strength, he lifted me up like I weighed nothing more than a sack of potatoes and rushed us into the cab of the truck. Mr. West was already at the cab door waiting with it open.

“We gotta go,” Auggie clipped. His dad rounded the truck. In what felt like a blink of an eye, he was in the driver’s seat, ready to go. “Drive!” my man shouted to his dad the moment he had clipped my seat belt in place. But if August’s dad was bothered by the short way his son spoke to him, he didn’t show it.

With a tight nod, Kyle West reversed quickly and rushed Auggie and me to the hospital.

August

“My boy has a baby,” my mom whispered next to me. Her cheek brushed my arm, but I couldn’t seem to tear my eyes off the chubby little cupcake in my arms. Cute cheeks and squished nose with a ton of dark hair and eyes that matched her mom’s.

I couldn’t seem to shake off the adrenaline rush from the day.