They exchange a glance. “Might be a boy,” Amadeo says.
I shake my head. “She’s a girl. And her name is going to be Hannah.”
Amadeo tucks that strand of hair that blew away behind my ear and kisses my temple. “Hannah.”
Bastian brushes his thumb under my eye and looks at me with those burning amber eyes.
“I like Hannah. But let’s all agree. If it’s a boy, it’s Bastian.”
We all laugh as the driver pulls out of the cemetery gates and we head home, together. Where I plan on living happily ever after with the men I love. The men I can’t live without.
The Birth of Hannah
Emma and I are sitting on the patio, and she is reading to me fromThe Gruffalo. I’m not sure if she’s actually reading or has memorized the text since we’ve read it so much for so many years, but I don’t care. Her voice is music to my ears.
I rub my lower back as another contraction hits. They’ve been coming for days, but the doctor’s assistant thought they were Braxton Hicks. Bastian insisted we go in and see the doctor rather than talk to the assistant, but I’ve put it off partly because I’m not sure I’m ready to let the baby go yet. Let her out of my control because right now, she’s mine. No one can touch her. No one can hurt her.
I realize how that sounds. I know the brothers will never allow anything to happen to any of us, but I just want to keep her with me a little longer.
We won’t find out if she’s Amadeo’s or Bastian’s. It’s a decision we made the night I told them I was pregnant.
Another contraction comes on the heels of the last one and I’m wondering if Bastian was right. If I should have seen the doctor. Neither he nor Amadeo loved the doctor’s assistant, but they are overprotective, to say the least. I justified by telling them that my next appointment is in a few days and it’s too early to deliver. Although technically, the baby is eight months along so it could happen.
Emma stops reading, sensing my discomfort even as I try not to show it. She puts the book aside and rubs my hard, round stomach.
“Is baby coming?” she asks.
“Not yet,” I tell her as I straighten up and reach for my cup of tea on the table beside us. I almost have it to my mouth when another contraction worse than any I’ve had before hits. This time, I feel a warm gush of liquid between my legs, and my eyes go wide.
Emma’s head tilts as she watches me.
“Vittoria?” she asks, worried.
I try to stand but double over with pain as water drips down my thighs.
“Get them,” I tell her, trying not to scare her but failing as she bolts off her seat and runs inside.
I take a step to follow her, but the pain that comes with the next one is so sharp that I grab the table with both hands and squeeze my eyes shut.
“Vittoria!” It’s Amadeo, followed closely by Bastian. They reach me at the same time and take hold of me before my knees give way from the pain.
“Call the doctor!” Bastian yells to Nora who appears at the door with Emma. I catch a glimpse of Emma’s worried face. “Mom, call the doctor. Tell her Vittoria’s water broke. We’re going to the hospital.”
The next thing I know I’m lifted into Amadeo’s arms and carried through the house. I cry out as another contraction hits.
“How long have they been coming?” Bastian asks me.
“A while,” I say. “They just… fuck… got bad a little bit ago.”
“That fucking assistant,” he grumbles as we head out the front door in record time, Bastian getting into the driver’s seat as Amadeo sits in the back with me. I hold onto him as Bastian drives like a madman to the hospital.
“It’s too soon,” I say, feeling the moisture between my legs as I wait for the next painful wave.
“It’ll be fine,” Amadeo says but I see the worry on his face.