Total pages in book: 164
Estimated words: 157003 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 785(@200wpm)___ 628(@250wpm)___ 523(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 157003 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 785(@200wpm)___ 628(@250wpm)___ 523(@300wpm)
“And what’s that?” Kostas asks, gripping the curve of my hips and leaning over to kiss my lips.
“That she was always meant to be loved by Pluto and to be the Queen of the Underworld.”
I can imagine how she felt. When she met Pluto, there was no turning back. She fell for him the moment she laid eyes on him. He didn’t have to drag her there, because she belonged there. She just needed to come home.
Another pain shoots down my back and then it feels as though I’ve peed myself. I glance down and liquid is dripping down my legs under my bathing suit.
“Talia, are you okay?” Kostas asks, his eyes widening in fear. It’s not often I see my husband appear to be scared.
“Yeah.” I nod with a smile. “But our baby is finally coming.”
Kostas
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
“Stop saying fuck,” Talia seethes, “or I will rip your tongue out of your mouth.”
The doctor smirks at me from between her legs and I tense. Clearly I’ve been chanting the words that have been running inside my head from the moment she was put into this hospital bed. I wonder if she heard the other ones.
She’s brave and resilient and strong.
The best mother in the world.
Beautiful beyond reason.
“A real Casanova, that one,” the nurse says to Talia, winking.
I look down to find Talia’s eyes watering. “I love you,” she whimpers.
Leaning down, I kiss her plump lips. “I love you too. You’re doing great.”
“Oh shit,” she whines. “I can’t do this.”
“You’ve done it before,” I remind her.
“And her head wasn’t as big as Nora’s either!”
I can’t help but grin at her. The moment we found out we were having another little girl, Talia asked if we could name her after my mother. It broke my heart and healed it all at once. Of course I said yes. My mother would be so fucking proud of me. She would’ve loved those girls with everything she had. Thankfully, we have Melody and she does the job of two grandmas at once.
“I see dark hair,” the doctor says, his eyes crinkling with delight. “The baby is coming. Want to watch?”
I dart my eyes to Talia, who nods. I missed Zoe’s birth, so seeing Nora’s is a gift. Releasing Talia’s hand, I shuffle down to the end of the bed.
“Holy shit,” I utter, completely transfixed to see the head of my daughter trying to come through the small hole. “Talia, she’s almost here.”
“Another contraction,” the nurse says. “That’s it, honey, push and hold.”
Talia bears down and the head begins to push out. When she can’t push anymore, the dark hair disappears some. Another contraction hits right after the other and my incredible wife pushes harder. I’m awestruck by how strong she is—scrunched face in determination, purple flesh as she uses every ounce of strength she can muster, sweaty hair stuck to her forehead.
“There we go,” the doctor says, drawing my attention back to our daughter.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
“STOP SAYING FUCK!” Talia warns through gritted teeth.
I gape in part horror, part fascination as I stare at the head sticking out of my wife’s body. A film of something covers her face and she’s as purple as her mother. Birthing a baby is a fucking miraculous thing.
I gently caress Talia’s thigh. “I can see her head, moró mou. She’s so perfect.”
Talia sobs but then she’s pushing again. And again. And again. Until the baby seems to slide out of her body and into the doctor’s waiting arms. Bloody and messy. Screaming at the top of her little lungs.
“Big baby girl,” the doctor praises as he shuffles the squirming infant onto Talia’s stomach. Blood is everywhere. The good kind of blood. The blood of miracles.
Talia’s whole body trembles as she cries and admires our daughter.
“Want to cut the cord?”
I snap my eyes over to the doctor, who offers me a pair of scissors. Sure enough, the thick umbilical cord that’s attached to our daughter needs removing. Will it hurt if I cut it? Can Talia feel it?
“Cut the cord, Kostas,” Talia urges, her words no longer laced with violence. They’re gentle and sweet and encouraging.
Frowning at the doctor, I shakily accept the scissors. “Are they going to feel it?”
“No, son, they’re not going to feel it,” he says, chuckling.
I’ve cut off limbs and eyeballs and every other body part imaginable.
So why the fuck do I feel like I’m going to pass out?
It’s a cord. A tiny passage of nutrients our daughter no longer needs.
With bile rising in my throat and sweat coating my flesh, I start to snip through the cord. But it doesn’t cut smooth and easy. I have to hack through the thick rope.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
This time, Talia laughs.
“Baby ears are listening,” she teases.
I manage to sever the cord, making Nora officially ours to take care of and protect. The weight of the responsibility nearly crushes me. But I’ve managed to do it with Talia and Zoe. What’s one more?