Chapter 125 Worst

Chapter 125 Worst
Daylan's POV

The door clicked shut behind me as I walked into the apartment, feeling the weight of the day lift off my shoulders. It had been another long day at the clinic, and I was eager to see Brie, maybe unwind with her before the baby arrived. I hadn’t even taken off my coat when I heard a sound, a muffled groan, low and full of pain.

My heart skipped a beat, every nerve suddenly alert. "Brie?" I called, rushing toward the source of the sound.

I found her in the lounge, her hands gripping the edge of the recliner, her face contorted in pain. "Daylan," she gasped, her voice shaky. "It’s happening."

For a moment, everything inside me froze. The world narrowed down to just Brie, standing there, the weight of the situation crashing over me. "Your water broke?" I asked, my voice steadier than I felt inside.

She nodded, biting her lip to suppress a groan. "Just now. The contractions are so strong."

I took a deep breath, trying to stay calm for her, but my mind was racing. This is it. The baby is coming. I needed to get her to the hospital. Fast.

“How’s your breathing?” I asked, unable to shake the constant fear of her pulmonary embolism flaring up. Her condition had been managed so carefully recently, but I knew labor would push her body to its limits.

“It’s fine,” she said, though her voice was strained.

I lowered myself beside her, scanning her face for any sign of distress, my heart pounding in my chest. I had to push the panic down, remain calm, be strong for her. “Alright. We are going to the hospital, right now,” I said, standing to my full height and sweeping her up into my arms.

She let out a small whimper as I lifted her, her body tensing in my arms. I held her close, moving quickly but carefully. We reached the car in record time, and I set her down gently in the passenger seat, trying to ignore the gnawing worry in the pit of my stomach.

The drive was a blur of red lights and quick turns. Brie’s contractions grew worse, each one sending waves of pain across her face. I glanced at her between breaths, my mind calculating the best course of action, but nothing could stop the growing panic inside me. What if her embolism acts up? What if something goes wrong?

“Daylan,” she gasped, her voice weak. “The cramps… they’re getting worse.”

I nodded, gripping the steering wheel tighter. "We are almost there. Just hang on."

By the time we reached the hospital’s emergency entrance, Brie’s breathing was starting to change, more shallow, uneven. I felt a cold jolt of fear rip through me.

“Her breathing,” I whispered to myself, rushing around the car to her side. “Please, not now.” I helped her out of the car and I scooped her up into my arms again.

I carried her into the emergency entrance, shouting for help. Nurses came rushing toward us, taking Brie from my arms and placing her on a gurney. "She’s in labor," I said, my voice tight. "And she has pulmonary embolism. Get her on oxygen immediately." I demanded. But even as I spoke, the reality of the situation hit me hard. I was no longer part of this hospital. These were my former colleagues, and while I knew exactly what needed to be done, I was not in control. I had to trust them. But it was killing me.



In the delivery room, the scene was chaotic. Brie was hooked up to monitors, her breathing labored, a nasal cannula inserted to help her get more oxygen. I could see the fear in her eyes, the pain, and it tore me apart.

"Stay with me," I whispered, leaning down to her as she struggled through another contraction. "Just breathe. You are going to be okay. We are both going to get through this." I tried to encourage her, to keep her calm, although I tried my best to be.

She nodded weakly, squeezing my hand, but I could feel the exhaustion in her grip. “Daylan…” Her voice wavered, her breath coming in short bursts. “I don’t know if I can…”

“You can,” I said firmly, though every instinct in me wanted to scream at the doctors, at the situation, at anything that made her suffer like this. “You are strong. You have been through this already and you will overcome this too. Just breathe. Focus on me.”

I glanced around, taking in the tense expressions of the medical staff. They were doing everything they could, but I could feel the unease. This isn’t just a normal labor. Her condition is life-threatening. And yet, they weren’t listening to me.

“Check her vitals,” I called out, my voice sharp. “Make sure her oxygen levels don't drop.”

The attending doctor, Dr Martin, gave me a sideways glance. Brie's previous doctor no longer even worked here, she transferred to a different hospital across the country. “We’ve got it under control, Dr Hart.”

I bit back a retort. They were shutting me out, probably thinking I was overreacting. But this was Brie...my Brie. And I wasn’t going to stand back and do nothing.

Brie groaned again, her whole body tensing as another contraction hit. "I can’t… Daylan, I’m so tired."

I leaned in closer, brushing the damp hair from her forehead, trying to hold myself together. "I know you are, but you’re almost there. You’ve got this. Just breathe. In and out, slow and steady."

The doctor turned to her. “Alright, Brielle. It’s time to push.”

She was weak, and I could see it in her eyes, she was fading, her strength depleted. I held her hand tightly, my heart pounding in my chest as I whispered to her. “You are strong. Just one more push. You are so close.”

She let out a low cry, her face contorting with pain, and I saw the effort it took for her to push through the agony. I was right there, gripping her hand, trying to will my strength into her.

And then, finally, a baby’s cry filled the room.

I couldn’t believe it. The sound of our child, the most beautiful sound I have ever heard because she was mine compared to some babies that I've had to deliver in emergencies throughout my career. But before I could even process it, the doctors were moving quickly, too quickly, and my attention snapped back to Brie.

She was pale, her chest rising and falling unevenly, her breathing erratic despite the oxygen. The doctor’s voice became more urgent, and I heard words I dreaded: “Her oxygen levels are dropping. We need to stabilize her. Now.”

“Daylan,” Brie whispered, her eyes barely open. “I’m so tired…”

My throat tightened as I leaned in, my lips brushing her forehead. "Just rest. You’ve done so well. Just rest now." My heart was breaking inside, I didn't want to lose her.

Suddenly, one of the nurses moved toward me. “I’m sorry, but we need you to step out.” I stood up straight, glaring at her.

“No,” I snapped, refusing to let go of Brie’s hand.

“Dr Hart,” the doctor said firmly. “We need space. You have to leave now.” I didn’t want to leave. I couldn’t. But they ushered me out of the room, closing the door behind me.

I stood in the hallway, staring at the closed door, my mind racing, my heart pounding with fear. I hadn’t even seen our child. I didn’t even know if the baby was okay. And Brie, Gosh, I couldn’t lose her. Not like this.

I felt helpless for the first time in my life. Helpless and terrified. All I could do was wait. Wait and pray that everything will be okay. But the minutes dragged on, and every second felt like an eternity.

“Please,” I whispered to myself, my hands trembling. “Let them both be okay. Please.”