Broken

Chapter 63: Special delivery

Zac rubbed his hands together, blowing into them to keep warm as he and Fatima entered the hospital. Snowflakes were still clinging to his hair and jacket, and the icy wind followed them into the lobby. "These girls just had to choose to come on the coldest day ever," Zac muttered, shaking his head. "They already got so much nerve."

Fatima giggled, clutching her belly as they approached the front desk. "Well, they do take after me," she teased, giving Zac a knowing look.

He sighed, but the nerves were still evident in his eyes. Fatima explained to the receptionist that her water had broken, and within moments, a nurse appeared with a wheelchair.

"Ms. Wilson, right this way," the nurse said warmly, gesturing for Fatima to sit.

Fatima lowered herself into the wheelchair, wincing slightly as she did. Zac hovered anxiously beside her, his hands flexing and unflexing like he didn't know what to do with them. He followed close behind as the nurse wheeled Fatima down the hallway, his eyes darting around the pristine hospital corridors.

When they reached the private room, the nurse paused at the door. "Go ahead and change into the gown on the bed," she instructed. "The doctor will be in to check on you shortly."

Fatima nodded, smiling as Zac helped her out of the chair and into the room. She changed into the hospital gown, moving slowly but still calm and composed. Meanwhile, Zac started pacing around the room like a man with a million thoughts racing through his mind.

"You need to relax," Fatima chuckled, sliding into the hospital bed and adjusting herself to get comfortable. "You're acting like you're the one who has to push these babies out."

Zac stopped pacing and gave her an incredulous look. "Well, technically, I'm in this with you," he said defensively, his voice tinged with nerves. "I read the books, I'm doing the breathing exercises, I'm prepared—"

"OH SHIT..." Fatima suddenly groaned, her face twisting in pain as she gripped the bedrail.

Zac's heart leapt into his throat. He rushed to her side, eyes wide with panic. "What's wrong? What's happening? Is it time?"

Fatima clenched her jaw and let out a slow breath. "It's a contraction, Zac. Breathe. Remember what we practiced."

Zac blinked, processing her words. "Oh. Right. Contractions," he said, his voice calming a little. "Okay, okay. Breathe through them, right? We can do this."

He crouched beside her, holding her hand, and started to breathe with her. They inhaled and exhaled together, their breaths syncing as the pain gradually subsided.

Fatima leaned her head back against the pillow, her face relaxing. "Better," she murmured.

Zac let out a shaky laugh, wiping sweat from his brow. "You scared the hell out of me, woman."

Just then, the door opened, and the doctor entered the room, smiling warmly at the pair. "How are we doing in here?" she asked as she approached the bed.

"We're okay," Fatima answered, trying to mask her discomfort as best as she could. "I've had a few contractions."

The doctor nodded. "Let's check your progress, shall we?"

Zac stood at Fatima's side, holding her hand as the doctor examined her. After a few moments, the doctor looked up, smiling gently. "You're 6 centimeters dilated, Fatima. Looks like we're getting closer, but there's still a little time."

Fatima nodded, already feeling another wave of pain starting to build. "How long do you think?" she asked through gritted teeth.

"Every labor is different, but I'd say we'll be meeting your babies in a few hours," the doctor replied, her tone reassuring. "Keep breathing through the contractions, and we'll monitor your progress."