Chapter 1My water breaks. Three weeks early.
"Derek, hospital! NOW!"
He grabs the bag. We're at the door when my bestie Bree stumbles out, barefoot, hair dripping.
"Wait wait wait! I need to finish my hair!"
Derek stops.
I'm doubled over. Fluid everywhere. He just stands there.
"Babe, relax!" Bree pouts. "I'm godmother. Gotta look cute for pics!"
She tosses her sneakers at him. "Clean these real quick?"
He drops my hospital bag. Starts scrubbing her damn shoes.
Mom's face fills my screen, sobbing. "GET TO THE HOSPITAL!"
"I'm dilating—"
Derek laughs. "God, stop being dramatic."
I watch him polish her sneakers while I'm bleeding out.
Done.
I text someone else:
"30 minutes. Show up, and congratulations—this baby's yours now."
--
My phone buzzes. Instant reply.
"?"
"Deal. I'm in."
Behind me, the shower's still running. Derek doesn't even glance my way. He's setting up Bree's hairdryer, fiddling with the heat settings.
Pain rips through my stomach. I slide down the wall.
The doula rushes over, helps me onto the couch.
"Sir, we gotta move. Like, now. Water breaks, baby can suffocate. You've got maybe thirty minutes before this gets really bad."
My sister-in-law Emma's voice goes shrill.
"She's early! Three weeks early! This isn't normal labor. She needs a hospital right this second. Baby doesn't care if we're ready or not!"
Everyone's staring at Derek.
He's still messing with Bree's face creams, lining them up.
"Guys, chill. She's washing her hair. It's fine."
Then he looks at me.
"Labor takes forever anyway. We'll just do a C-section if you're freaking out. Didn't you say you didn't wanna push anyway?"
My voice cracks.
"You don't get it. This could kill us both."
"Uh-huh."
He's back to watching the bathroom door. Totally zoned out.
I grab a throw pillow. Whip it at his head.
"I'm saying we could die! The baby and me. Both! We need to leave right now!"
Derek jumps, glaring at me.
"Jesus, what's your deal? You've been milking this pregnancy thing for months. The whole universe doesn't revolve around you, Lacey."
"Bree's washing her damn hair. Can't you wait, like, ten minutes? You're the one who wanted her to be godmother!"
That brings Bree stumbling out, dripping wet, making puppy eyes.
"Babe, come onnn. We talked about this! I'm godmother! These pics are gonna be everywhere. I can't show up looking awful. Just gimme five minutes to dry off?"
Derek yanks the dryer from her hands.
"You take forever. I'll do it. Then we'll go."
I'm watching him run his fingers through her hair, blow-drying it section by section.
Something twists in my chest.
I asked him once, just once, to help me with my hair when I was too pregnant to lift my arms. He said he was beat from work.
Then the pain slams into me again. More fluid gushes out. The doula checks and her face drains of color.
"Oh shit. This is bad. Your water's yellow."
"Yellow means infection. We're out of time."
The hairdryer's too loud. She storms over, rips the cord out of the wall.
"Hospital. Now. Not negotiable."
Bree's mouth drops open.
"Um, excuse me? Who do you think you are? I'm washing my hair and you're pitching a fit?"
Derek scoffs.
"I told you hiring a doula was stupid. Should've just had my mom come. But nooo."
He plugs the dryer back in. They're back at it, bitching about the doula while I'm literally bleeding out on the couch with our baby dying inside me.
My phone rings. The hospital.
"Ma'am, it's 10:20. Where are you? Delivery room's prepped, doctors are standing by. You need to be here by eleven. This isn't something you play around with."
I yank the plug out again, doubled over and panting.
"Eleven. I have to make it by eleven."
Derek sighs.
"Fine. God. You're so extra."
He finally picks up the hospital bag, dragging his feet.
That's when my parents and brother come crashing through the door.
They see me still on the couch.
Their faces go white.
Chapter 2
"Why are we still here? We gotta GO."
We're at the door when Bree squeals.
She's touching her hair, pouting.
"Wait! I didn't curl it yet! I can't be in photos like this!"
"Just one more sec? Super quick!"
Mom cuts in.
"Why don't you stay and finish up? We'll take Lacey first. We can't wait on this."
Bree's already heating up her curling iron and she's totally calm.
"Auntie, relax! Two minutes, tops. Let's go together."
"I'm godmother! Gotta look good for the first baby pics!"
My brother Ryan loses it.
"Then hurry up! My sister doesn't have time for this!"
Bree freezes and her voice cracks.
"Why are you yelling at me? I'm not trying to be slow!"
"How was I supposed to know this would happen? I'm stressed too!"
Mom's done. She grabs my arm, pulling me toward the stairs. Dad and Ryan run down to start the car.
Derek walks right back to Bree.
"Take your time. Be careful."
Mom stares at him. Hard.
The baby's kicking like crazy and pain rips through me.
"Eleven o'clock. I have to be there."
"It's ten-thirty. Are you coming?"
He looks at me—pale, sweating—then pushes me back on the couch.
"Stop acting. You're just trying to make me pick you over her."
"Bree's almost done. Relax."
I'm stuck on the couch and the pain's getting sharp now. Mean.
Bree's still checking herself in the mirror.
She sees me staring. I'm dripping sweat.
She giggles. Sticks her tongue out.
"Since I did my hair, might as well do makeup too, right? Five minutes!"
"Derek! Which one? This pink or the nude?"
Emma snaps.
"Enough. Lacey needs the hospital."
Bree hooks her arm through Emma's and her voice goes all sweet.
"Lacey's so lucky. Everyone's here for her baby."
"Nobody cares about me. I just wanna look nice for once. You get it, right Lace?"
I can't even talk. Too much pain.
She takes my silence as yes. So does Derek.
"Five minutes. Soon as she's ready, we're out."
Another contraction hits and I'm gripping the couch, trying not to scream.
When I can breathe again, I look at him.
"May twentieth. We were supposed to get our license. Bree wanted to come. You made us wait. She overslept. Office closed. We're still not married."
"Our wedding. She was supposed to sit with my family. She rode with you instead. Got drunk the night before. We missed our timing."
"Last time I'm asking. Me and the baby, or her?"
Derek's face goes cold.
"Are you serious? Using this to start old fights?"
Bree gasps.
"Wow, Lacey. Didn't know you were this petty. Is this what pregnant ladies do? Sit around looking for drama?"
"Whatever. I'm not fighting with a hormonal mom. I'm not even done."
I stare at her.
She said wash her hair. Then curl it. Now makeup. Next she'll pick an outfit for an hour.
Ten-forty. The fluid under me is pink. Blood.
I stop looking and bite down so I don't cry.
"You keep going. I'm leaving."
I try to move but Bree's blocking the door.
"Come on! Just a few more minutes! Almost done! You don't want me holding her looking gross, right? These pics are forever!"
Ten forty-five. More fluid runs down my legs and I can barely stand.
My phone rings. Ryan.
"Where are you?! Hospital keeps calling! If you're not there by eleven, you might not make it!"
"Every minute counts!"
Chapter 3
The contractions are tearing me apart. I can barely breathe, let alone talk.
Emma rips the phone out of my hand.
"We're trying to leave! But Little Miss Perfect won't move till she's all dolled up!"
"Dad, get up here. Now."
When Dad storms in, Bree's at the mirror gluing on fake lashes.
He looks at Derek and his voice goes ice-cold.
"Derek. When you married her, I asked for nothing. No house. No car. Nothing."
"Just one thing. Be good to her."
"You looked me in the eye. You promised."
"So what the hell is this?"
Ryan steps up with his fists clenched.
"You chased my sister for months. Said you'd treat her right. Forever."
"That's the only reason I said yes to this marriage."
"She's been throwing up for nine months straight. Crying. In pain. And now you want her to wait? For what?"
Bree spins around from the mirror.
"I'm godmother! I can't look like trash in the pics!"
Derek jumps in.
"Babe, you promised. Bree's godmother. You said so yourself."
They're teaming up on me.
Dad explodes.
"Godmother?! Who gives a damn about godmother when the mother's dying?!"
"You want her sitting here bleeding out while this girl plays dress-up?! Are you out of your mind?!"
Dad never yells. Never. I've never heard him like this.
Derek looks down. Bree slaps on the last lash and rushes over.
"Okay wow. Rude much, Uncle? I'm not holding anyone up. She'd be waiting at the hospital anyway, right?"
"Why aren't you yelling at the doctors?"
"And Lacey, um, hello? You asked me to be godmother! Now I'm the bad guy? Cool. Love that for me."
"My bad for being alive, I guess."
She runs into the guest room and the door slams hard.
Another contraction hits and everything goes black. I collapse.
My family grabs me, trying to drag me downstairs.
Derek blocks the door.
"Lacey. Seriously? A few minutes. That's all."
"You made her cry. Go apologize."
"Or what, you want the baby born without a dad?"
He knows. He knows I'm terrified. We planned this months ago. He'd be there, hold my hand, cut the cord.
Now he's using it to control me.
If Bree doesn't leave, he won't either.
Fine. I'll get someone else.
My phone's blowing up anyway.
Latest message: "Pulling up now."
Ten-fifty. The hospital calls again.
"Ma'am, where are you? Want us to send an ambulance? You're running dry."
"Get here now or we're not responsible."
Mom's voice breaks.
"Her water's gone! You hear that?! Move!"
Bree's sobbing in the guest room.
"Just go without me! I'm nobody! I never mattered anyway!"
"Never good enough for any of you!"
Derek's at her door and his voice goes soft.
"Bree. I'm not leaving you."
"You stay, I stay."
