Chapter 14: The Longest Night
The maternity unit doors slid open, and Claire gripped Maya’s hand hard enough to make her wince.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” Maya shifted the hospital bag higher on her shoulder. “You’re allowed to squeeze.”
A contraction gathered, stronger than the last. Claire stopped walking. The hallway seemed to tilt around her, bright lights stretching into pale streaks. She shut her eyes and tried to follow the nurse’s instructions she’d heard over the phone: breathe slowly, don’t rush, tell them what was happening.
Maya stayed beside her without trying to steer her.
When the contraction eased, Claire opened her eyes.
“I think the baby’s coming now.”
“I’ll tell them.”
Maya flagged down a nurse, who came at once with a wheelchair and questions. Claire answered as best she could, keeping her voice level even when her body seemed to have stopped asking permission. The nurse listened, glanced at the clock, and called for help. Soon Claire was moving down a corridor with Maya beside her, one hand clasped around Claire’s.
A nurse asked who Claire wanted in the room.
“Maya,” Claire said. “Just Maya for now.”
“Understood.”
At the labor room, the medical team moved quickly. They explained each step as they went, but Claire caught only pieces. Her attention kept returning to the next contraction, the next breath, the fact that her body was doing something enormous and no amount of planning could make it feel ordinary.
Maya stayed where Claire could see her.
“You’re doing it,” Maya said.
Claire let out a breath that was almost a laugh.
“I don’t feel like I’m doing anything.”
“That’s okay. You don’t have to feel impressive.”
The nurse checked Claire’s progress, then spoke to the clinician. The plan changed. A few minutes later, another nurse entered to adjust the bed and explain what was going to happen next.
“Wait,” Claire said. “One person at a time. I need to understand before everyone starts moving.”
The room quieted.
The clinician met her eyes and explained again, more slowly. Claire asked two questions. The answers made sense. She nodded, and the team continued.
It was the smallest kind of control, but it was hers.
Her phone sat on the bedside table. Gabriel’s message remained on the screen beneath the nurse’s earlier instructions.
I’m leaving now. Do you want me to come?
Claire had not answered. First she had needed to get through the door, then the next contraction, then the moment when the staff said the baby was coming sooner than anyone expected.
Now, while Maya helped her take a sip of water, Claire picked up the phone.
You can come to the maternity unit. Ask the desk to contact my room before you enter. No one else.
His reply came quickly.
Understood. I’ll come alone.
Claire set the phone down. She did not feel ready for him to see her like this. She also did not want to face the next hours without the person whose child she was carrying, if he could make it in time.
Both things could be true.
The contractions tightened and came closer together. Claire pressed her forehead to Maya’s shoulder while she breathed through one, then pulled back when it passed.
“I can’t do this,” she whispered.
“Yes, you can.”
“I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“Neither does the baby. You’re both figuring it out together.”
Claire laughed once, then winced as another contraction began. Maya offered her hand. Claire took it.
The door opened. A nurse stepped in, then paused beside the bed.
“Gabriel DeLuca is at the desk. He’s asking whether you still want him to come in.”
Claire’s pulse leaped. She glanced at Maya.
“You don’t have to say yes,” Maya said. “And if you change your mind later, that’s okay too.”
Claire looked toward the door. The thought of Gabriel entering with his suits, his phone calls, his instinct to take over rose sharp and unwelcome. Then she remembered the times he had asked and waited for her answer. It was not proof of everything she needed. It was still something.
“Tell him he can come in,” she said. “But I decide who stays.”
The nurse nodded and left.
When Gabriel appeared, he didn’t stride across the room. He stopped just inside the doorway, damp hair darkened by the rain, his face drawn tight with worry.
“Claire.”
“Hi.”
“Do you want me closer?”
She waited for the next contraction to pass before answering.
“Yes. Come over here. Don’t touch me unless I ask.”
“I will.”
He approached the bed and stopped beside Maya, leaving Claire space. His eyes moved over her face, then settled on hers.
“Are you okay?”
“No,” Claire said. “But I’m here.”
Gabriel nodded. He didn’t contradict her or offer to fix it. He looked at Maya.
“Thank you for being with her.”
“Claire asked me to come,” Maya replied.
“I know.”
A contraction rose. Claire’s breath caught. She braced her hands on the bed, eyes fixed on a point near the wall.
“Talk to me,” she managed.
“What do you want me to say?”
“Anything that isn’t about the baby being ours.”
Gabriel swallowed. “I was trying to decide whether I could make it through that rain without ruining a pair of shoes.”
A startled laugh escaped her. The contraction pulled tight again, and the laugh turned into a groan.
Maya held one hand. Gabriel waited.
“Your hand,” Claire gasped.
He offered it palm up. She caught it and gripped hard. He didn’t flinch, though his jaw tightened.
When it passed, Claire let go.
“Thank you,” she said.
“Do you want me to stay?”
“Yes.”
The room filled and emptied around them as staff checked on her and spoke with her. Claire asked the clinician to explain before each new decision. She asked Maya to stay beside her. When a nurse offered to call anyone else, Claire said no.
Gabriel kept to the place she had given him. He offered water when she asked. When he tried to ask a question over a contraction, Claire raised one hand.
“Not now.”
He stopped speaking immediately.
At some point, the room narrowed to a few faces and the measured voices of the staff. The clinician told Claire it was time to push. Fear surged through her so fast she couldn’t hide it.
“I’m scared.”
Maya leaned close. “You can be scared and still do the next thing.”
Gabriel’s voice came from the other side of the bed.
“Tell us what you need.”
Claire looked at him. “Stay. Don’t let go of my hand unless I tell you.”
“I’m here.”
The next stretch came in fragments: instructions, effort, a sharp pressure, Maya’s voice anchoring her, Gabriel’s hand beneath hers. Claire heard the clinician tell her she was making progress. She heard herself say she couldn’t. She heard Maya answer that she didn’t have to do the whole thing at once.
Then the room changed.
A small, startling cry cut through the noise.
For one beat, Claire could only stare. The clinician lifted the baby, and a nurse moved in close. Claire heard more voices, quick and focused, but she couldn’t make out the words.
“Is the baby all right?”
“Your baby is breathing,” the clinician said. “We’re checking them carefully.”
The nurse carried the baby to the warmer while another staff member adjusted equipment. Claire strained to see past the people between them.
“Can I see?”
The clinician moved enough for Claire to catch a glimpse: a tiny face, a curled hand, a blanket being tucked around a small body.
“Is the baby okay?” Gabriel asked.
The clinician explained that the baby had needed help getting started and would be observed overnight. They wanted to monitor the breathing and make sure everything stayed steady. The words were calm, not a promise. No one suggested Claire should stop asking questions.
“Can I hold the baby?” Claire asked.
“Not quite yet. We want to finish the assessment first. We’ll update you as soon as we can.”
Claire nodded, though her fingers had begun to shake.
Maya rested a hand on her shoulder. Gabriel stayed near the bed, not crowding her, his face pale beneath the worry. Claire reached for him.
“Stay here.”
He took her hand.
The baby was moved from sight, accompanied by a nurse. The door closed behind them.
Minutes stretched. Someone checked Claire and brought her a warm blanket. Maya asked if she wanted anything. Claire shook her head. Gabriel said nothing, and she was grateful he understood silence could be useful.
May you like
At last, the clinician returned. She paused at the foot of the bed, her expression careful.
“Claire, Gabriel,” she said gently. “Could you both sit down for a moment?”
