The Beginning.

The Beginning.
“Calm down!”
That’s the first thing out of my mouth, and it’s absolutely useless because both of them are already in full-blown panic mode. Kaiden’s pacing like a caged animal, phone in hand, calling someone—maybe the hospital, maybe a priest. Hunter’s digging through drawers, tossing clothes, diapers and god-knows-what onto the bed, even though I've had the hospital bags packed for a month now. He continues to throw shit everywhere anyway onto the bed, my bed. The one I was hoping to maybe sleep in for another week. I grip the bedpost and breathe through another contraction. It’s not terrible yet, but it’s enough to make my stomach clench and my patience thin. “We’re not rushing anywhere yet,” I grit out. “The nurse said to wait until they’re five minutes apart.”
Hunter looks up, wild-eyed. “How far apart are they now?”
“Seven.”
“Seven minutes?!”
I glare at him. “Seven miles. Of course, minutes, genius.”
He stares for a beat, then nods, very seriously. “Okay. Seven. We can do seven.”
Kaiden’s still pacing. “We should go now. Early is better. What if traffic—”
“Kaiden.” I cut him off. “If you try to drag me out of this house before I say I’m ready, I will castrate you with the nearest pair of kitchen scissors.”
He freezes mid-step. “Right. Waiting. Got it.”

The next contraction hits harder. My breath hitches, my knees buckle a little, and instantly they’re both there, my two large, frantic shadows trying to help me breathe when they’re the ones forgetting how.
“Okay, okay,” Hunter mutters. “Deep breaths, Kitten. You’re okay.”
“I was okay,” I snap, “until you started hyperventilating.”
Kaiden rubs my back, murmuring something about timing contractions while Hunter fumbles for the stopwatch on his phone. Another wave hits, and I bite down on a curse, leaning into Kaiden’s chest until it passes. They trade looks over my head, a mix of panic and awe wrapped into one.
“Maybe a shower will help,” Kaiden suggests, voice careful, like I might explode if he gets the tone wrong.
It’s actually a good idea. The heat helps. For a while, I stand under the spray, swaying, breathing, counting, cursing their fucking names. The contractions build steadily, relentlessly. When I step out, done with my legs hurting, my back screaming and this child trying to kill me, Hunter’s got towels ready, and Kaiden’s on the phone again—this time with Ariana.
“No, Ma, she’s fine,” he says. “No, we’re not at the hospital yet. Yes, we’ve got the bag. Yes, the snacks too—Ma, please, she’s having a contraction, I gotta go.”
By the time I’m dressed again, they’re both running on pure adrenaline. The contractions are closer now. Four minutes. Then three.
I grab Hunter’s wrist when the next one hits. “Now,” I gasp. “We’re going now.”

I've never seen two men move so fast.
The ride to the hospital is a blur of pain, swearing, and me threatening to jump out of the moving car.
“Why are you driving like that?!” I yell as another contraction twists through me.
Kaiden, behind the wheel, looks offended. “Like what?”
“Like a fucking psychopath!”
“I’m doing the speed limit!”
“Then don’t! And stop hitting every little bloody rock in the road unless you want me to start throwing hands back here!”
Hunter’s in the back seat with me, holding my hand, which I’m pretty sure I’ve already broken. “Breathe, Kitten. You’re doing great.”
“Don’t tell me to breathe!” I snarl. “You breathe! You did this to me!”
He winces. “Technically, we did this—”
“Shut up!”

By the time we reach the hospital, I’m a mix of rage, pain, and adrenaline. Nurses rush us through the doors, and the boys trip over each other trying to answer questions.
“How far apart are the contractions?” one asks.
Kaiden blurts, “Constant.”
“They’re not constant,” I pant. “He’s just dramatic.”
Hunter squeezes my hand. “She means every three minutes.”
They wheel me into a delivery room, the lights are too damn bright, and the machines are beeping. It’s chaos, but a different kind than before, it's controlled, safe and oh so fucking painful. The nurses are calm; the boys are not. Hunter’s trying to help but nearly faints when the doctor starts setting up because he won't breathe right. Kaiden alternates between holding my hand and pacing like a man on death row.

The pain’s worse now, it's raw, primal and endless. I cry, scream, curse. I tell Kaiden I hate him. I tell Hunter he’s sleeping on the couch for a year. I swat their hands away from me and then pull them back at the same time. Not knowing what I need, but that I just need this pain to stop. They take it like saints, brushing my hair back, whispering encouragement even as tears run down their own faces.

Then the doctor says the words I’ve been waiting for. “It’s time to push.”
Everything blurs. My world narrows to breathing, bearing down, fighting through the burn until I think I’ll split apart. I read about the 'ring of fire' and I didn't think it could be so bad...and it's not, its so much worse.
I hear Hunter’s voice—low, steady. "You've got this, Kitten, one big push."
Kaiden’s hand in mine, shaking. "I can see his head!"
And then—
A cry.
Sharp. Loud. New. The room stops. My body goes limp, tears spilling down my cheeks before I can stop them.
“Congratulations,” the doctor says softly. “It’s a boy.”
They place him on my chest, small and perfect and red-faced, wailing like the world insulted him personally. I touch his cheek, and the noise in my head fades. Kaiden is crying openly, no shame, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand. Hunter’s leaning close, one hand trembling over the baby’s back, his other still holding mine.
I laugh through the tears. “Hi, Jackson,” I whisper.
He quiets, just for a second, like he knows my voice. And in that breath, with the two hardest men I’ve ever known sobbing beside me, I realise—This isn’t the end of our story. It’s the beginning.