Joss
“It fucking hurts”—Amanda stopped to pant—“like a motherfucker.”
“I know.”
She shook her head frantically. “But really you don’t. I’ve talked women through . . . fuck . . . through this, but I had no . . . no idea.”
“Just hang in there.”
When she leaned up on her elbows and looked at me, I saw that sweat was pouring off her forehead. “I’m having my baby in this elevator. I can’t . . . ahhhhhh, shit. . . . can’t believe this is happening.”
“You’ve got this, Amanda. You had a healthy pregnancy, and baby is nearly full term.”
She burst into tears. “I never thought I’d be a single mom. God, I’m scared.”
“It’s time to push, okay? You’re going to be fine; I promise. You can do this. All of it.”
“You think?” she asked weakly.
“I know. You’re strong. Come on, now. For your baby. Push.”
She gritted her teeth and groaned as she pushed. I forced myself not to think about what I didn’t have, which was . . . well, everything. I’d have to take off my shirt to wrap the baby in when it was born. Hopefully, Carson would get us out of here soon.
“Okay, take a break,” I said.
Amanda dropped her head to the elevator floor, moaning softly and breathing hard.
“I kind of hate Dean,” she said, her voice so soft I almost didn’t hear it.
“I totally get that. He’s been awful to you.”
“And you.”
“Another big push for me, Amanda, okay? Come on, mama.”
She cried softly. “I don’t know if I can, Joss.”
“Get up on your elbows and push,” I ordered her. “Right now. It’s just you and me, and I can’t do this part for you.”
She pushed up onto her elbows, her brows lowered in a look of determination.
“Good girl,” I said. “Give it all you’ve got now.”
She pushed with all her strength, and the baby’s head came out. Just as it did, there was a sound and movement on the elevator’s ceiling. I looked up and saw a panel being moved aside. Carson looked down at me. I had to focus on the baby, but relief washed through me.
“Your baby has the most gorgeous brown hair, Amanda,” I said. “The head is out. Rest for a second.”
She was crying. I didn’t know if it was pain, joy, or sadness, but she was weeping. I felt a surge of protectiveness for her. Like me, she’d been charmed and then dumped by Dean. And now, she was having her first child pretty much all on her own.
As I encouraged her to push again, Carson deftly hung on to the sides of the hole in the elevator ceiling and dropped inside, swinging himself over to the empty side. He took something from his back.
“Hattie threw a bunch of stuff in here for you,” he said. “She gave me gloves and told me to put them on and hand you stuff when you need it.”
“Okay. Get those gloves on.”
Amanda screamed as the baby’s shoulders came out, and then she moaned with relief. The rest of the baby slid out into my hands quickly, and I started my post-delivery work.
“You have a beautiful daughter, Amanda,” I said.
“A girl?” There was joy in her voice as she cried.
“She’s perfect.” I glanced at Carson and quietly murmured, “Are we getting them out of here soon?”
“The fire department’s going to evacuate you guys.”
“Scissors,” I said.
He passed them over, and I went to work on the umbilical cord.
“Put a blanket under Amanda’s head for me. Roll it up first. I want her to be able to see the baby.”
He did as I asked, and then I passed the baby into her waiting arms. She met my eyes and smiled.
“Thank you, Joss.”
“You did the hard part. I’m so proud of you.”
I went to work on the placenta as she spoke to her little girl. There were a couple of thuds on top of the elevator, and then two firefighters peered through the top at us.
“Who’s going first?” one of them asked Carson.
He looked at me.
“The baby,” I said. “Is OB on standby?”
“They’re ready.”
Amanda’s brows pinched together in worry. “Is it safe?”
One of the firefighters dropped down to the floor. “I promise we’ll take good care of your little one.”
She looked at me, and I nodded. I was still trying to stop her bleeding.
“Okay,” she said. “But first, can we get a picture?”
The firefighter smiled at her. “Of course. I can do that.”
“I know it’s kind of a weird time, but someday I want to tell my little girl about this and show her a picture of me holding her for the first time in an elevator.”
“It’ll make quite a story,” the firefighter said.
“Joss, will you hold her while I get my phone?” Amanda asked me.
I went to her side with a baby blanket and took the baby, swaddling her in the blanket and cradling her in my arms.
When I looked down at her tiny little mouth, my heart melted. Her cheeks were round and perfect, and her little coos brought tears to my eyes.
I wanted this. A baby of my own. It wasn’t something I was willing to give up. And I didn’t want it in a wait-and-see, abstract kind of way. Whether I gave birth to my own babies or adopted them, I wanted to be a mom, and I wanted it as soon as possible.
When my eyes found Carson’s, I felt a powerful pang of sadness. His expression was filled with love and pride. And I loved him back with my whole heart.
But I wouldn’t give up motherhood for him. I’d been rash for telling him it didn’t matter to me as long as I was with him. It mattered. As I gently rocked Amanda’s new daughter, I knew it meant enough to me that I was willing to leave him over it.
That shattered me, but I also felt a sense of peace. I believed in him enough to have kids with him, but if he didn’t believe in himself, we weren’t going to make it.
The firefighter told us he was ready, and Amanda asked him to take photos of me holding the baby, then her holding her, and then all three of us.
A paramedic dropped into the elevator next, and when I told him the baby was cleared to be evacuated, the team took over.
I covered Amanda’s lower half with a sheet and asked Carson to go get her a gown for the evacuation. When she and I were alone in the elevator again, she looked at me in silence for a couple of seconds.
“I owe you an apology,” she finally said. “Several apologies, actually.”
Tears brimmed in her eyes, and her voice shook with emotion.
“We’re okay, Amanda. It’s okay.”
She shook her head. “No, it’s not. I was awful to you. And I knew . . . I knew you didn’t deserve it.”
“We all make mistakes.”
“You’re such a good person. I appreciate it, but I need to say it—I’m sorry.”
There was some part of me I hadn’t realized still felt wounded, because her apology made my throat tighten with emotion.
“Thank you,” I said, clearing my throat. “I forgive you.”
A firefighter started to climb down through the opening. I heard Carson behind him.
“Hey,” I said to Amanda, fearing I wouldn’t get another chance to say this. “You can do this. You don’t need him. Let him support your child. Make him if you have to. But don’t go back to him. You’re better than that.”
She nodded and gave me a grateful look.
Carson brought in a gown and some maternity underwear and pads. The men all turned their backs while I fixed Amanda up as best I could. I didn’t want her to be humiliated by this. The medics wrapped her in blankets and strapped her to a board. She looked like a mummy, nothing but her head showing.
Her eyes were squeezed together in fear. I could only imagine how she felt right now—weak from the delivery, still bleeding a little, and unable to even move as she was carried up an elevator shaft.
“It’ll be okay,” I said softly, brushing the hair from her forehead. “I promise. Just keep your eyes closed, and you’ll have that beautiful little girl back in your arms in a few minutes.”
Tears spilled out from the corners of her closed eyes as she nodded.
“What’s your daughter’s name?” one of the firefighters asked.
“Genevieve,” Amanda said, a smile on her lips.
They took her out on the board, reassuring her as they passed the board through the elevator opening into the arms of more firefighters on top of the elevator car.
Finally, I sat back against the elevator wall, sighing deeply. Carson sat down next to me, putting an arm around my shoulders.
“Dr. Drake, I think I just fell a little more in love with you,” he said.
I smiled and rested my head on his shoulder. His familiar, warm scent made me want to climb onto his lap and wrap my arms around him. I loved him in a way I’d never known before, and I wondered if I’d ever find it again.
“Carson.” I lifted my head from his shoulder, deciding to just bite the bullet while I had the courage.
A firefighter’s legs swung down through the elevator opening, and then he dropped down to the floor.
“Who’s next?” he said.
“We’re climbing out,” Carson said. “Her first, me behind.” He looked over at me. “There’s a steel ladder. Are you comfortable climbing on your own?”
“Yeah.”
He got to his feet and held a hand out to me, helping me to mine.
“I need to talk to you when we get up there,” I said.
“Sure.” He reached both hands toward my face, cupping my cheeks and kissing me. “I’m so damn proud of you, babe. I’m the luckiest man alive.”
My smile was weak. I didn’t want to hear anything like that right now—that would make this even harder. Breaking things off with him was going to be the hardest thing I’d ever done. But seeing Amanda find her strength had helped me find mine, and I wasn’t looking back.