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Authors: Annabel Joseph

Tags: #Erotica

Owning Wednesday (25 page)

BOOK: Owning Wednesday
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“Only Daniel’s,” she persisted. “I don’t want to be shared.”

 

“If you wish. Only Daniel’s. Can we still be friends, though, you and I?”

 

“Friends?”

 

He held her, not loosening his hold, not until she pulled away first. She stood in front of him, suddenly weak, woozy. She was weaving on her feet. He reached for her.

 

“Wednesday? All right?”

 

Vincent had loved her. He did love her. Wasn’t that all right? He had given her to Daniel because he thought it was best. Wasn’t that just another form of love? Wasn’t it okay? So he’d given her to Daniel. Daniel who loved her, who always had, from the moment they met. Why was that a bad thing? Why had she made it so sinister and sad?

 

“Vincent—” She intended to apologize, to say that yes, they could certainly be friends, that everything was okay, but then she felt a pain in her abdomen more excruciating than any she’d felt in her life. She doubled over, and if he hadn’t been holding her, she would have fallen down.

 

“Vincent! God, it hurts! Something’s wrong!”

 

“Nothing’s wrong,” he said. “This is perfectly natural. You’re in labor, I think. We should probably go.”

 

“Go? Go where?” she asked, holding her belly.

 

“To the hospital. Which one?”

 

She started to panic. She couldn’t think which hospital or what the hell to do. Vincent whipped out his cell phone and picked up her bag.

 

“Call Daniel, please!” she said, a moment before she realized he already was.

 

“Daniel? Wednesday is with me. I think you’re about to be a father.” Vincent paused. She heard yelling on the other end of the line. “No, just meet us there. Which hospital is it?”

 

More yelling.

 

“I’ll drive carefully, yes. We’ll see you there.”

 

By that time Vincent had guided her to the garage and helped her into his car. She moaned in the seat next to him.

 

“I’m going to die, Vincent.”

 

“You’re not going to die.”

 

“At least if I die, she’ll have a good father. Not like mine.”

 

“Your baby will have a good father,” he agreed calmly. “And you’ll be a good mother too. Now, enough about dying. Try to breathe through the pain.”

 

It occurred to her that Vincent had been through this before. He had several children. Years ago he must have driven his wife to the hospital, perhaps this same way.

 

“If I don’t make it,” she whispered, “tell Daniel I love him and that I’m so sorry I ran away.”

 

“You can tell Daniel you’re sorry and you love him a few minutes from now when we get to the hospital and you safely deliver your baby. And after you’re recovered, I hope he punishes you very soundly for your behavior tonight.”

 

She held on to her seat hard, trying to steel herself against the pain. She felt a great rush of warmth between her legs and looked down in dread.

 

Blood? No, just water. Her water had broken in Vincent’s car.

 

“It’s coming. Oh God, I don’t want this. I’m not ready!”

 

“How far apart are the contractions?” Vincent asked.

 

“How far apart?” she repeated, dazed.
Oh God, it hurts so bad.

 

“How long between them? Didn’t you take a childbirth class or something?”

 

“No. Why would I? I can take pain.”

 

“It appears you can’t take pain as well as you used to.”

 

“Shut up,” she yelled so loudly that her voice cracked.

 

“Listen, how long have you been in labor? Contractions don’t just come on like this.”

 

“Oh, I didn’t realize you were an obst-obtrec-obster—doctor.”

 

“I’m not an obstetrician, dear, but I’ve been through this before. How long have you been having contractions?”

 

“I don’t know! I don’t know. I’ve had them every day this week. All the time the last day or two. But painless ones, nothing like this.”

 

“No, they start mildly. They only get hard and close at the end. So how far apart would you say? Ballpark.”

 

“It’s just…it’s just one long contraction! I don’t know!”

 

“Well, fuck,” he said. “Do not have a baby in my car. Do not. You just press those pretty little thighs together, and you wait.”

 

Her throaty scream drowned out his stern orders. She panted as the crippling pain subsided for precious moments. Vincent made a quick call on his cell, telling Gretchen to go home, but before he even hung up, she was screaming again. She couldn’t help it. It felt like the thing inside her was clawing to get out with dull, jagged razors. By the time they arrived at the ER, she was panting instructions for her funeral to Vincent. He soundly ignored her, half helping, half carrying her inside.

 

“This woman is in labor,” he said.

 

Wednesday looked around the crowded waiting room with wild eyes.
Someone, anyone, make this agony stop
. But no one turned and no one came to help them. “Jesus Christ!” Wednesday screamed, clutching her middle. “I have to lie down, now!”

 

That seemed to light a fire underneath them all, and someone came running with a gurney. They helped her onto it and strapped belts and monitors onto her belly. She fought with them while a nurse walked beside her, asking questions. She turned her head away, feeling hot and cold, damp with sweat. Is this what dying felt like? The nurse was persistent, snapping her fingers in Wednesday’s face. “
Name, age, week of pregnancy, doctor’s name
?” If Wednesday could have, she would have broken the woman’s hand off. Vincent jumped in to answer some of the questions.

 

“Her name is Wednesday Carson-Laurent, and she’s twenty-five years old. I don’t know the name of her doctor or how pregnant she is, but she looks about done.”

 

“Aren’t you the father?”

 

“No, I’m just a friend, but the father will be along soon, I assure you.” The father.
Daniel
. Where was he? Wednesday heard his voice from somewhere far off. She could have sworn he was yelling, but she couldn’t think why. “That would be him,” said Vincent.

 

At that moment alarms started going off and voices started speaking sharply. The gurney jerked to a stop and changed direction. She clutched at her belly, tangling her fingers in wires and stretchy belts. Faces swam above her; arms and hands pulled and prodded at her.

 

“What’s going on?” she heard Vincent ask over and over, but no one answered him. They ran, leaving him behind.

 

At least if I die… At least if I die…

 

She struggled and shook her head, trying to stop them from taking her. She wasn’t ready to go yet. No, not so soon. She tried to scream, to ask for help, but no words came. The pain was vicious, turning her inside out. Her spine was cracking. Her teeth chattered, and she felt her gorge rising. She closed her eyes against the terrible bright lights shining down on her, undulating and fading around the edges.

 

She was dying. She needed Daniel. She wanted to say good-bye.

 

She hadn’t wanted to face this alone.

Chapter Thirteen
 

 

 

The nurse blocked them both at the door. “This is a sterile area, gentlemen! Just a minute. You will have to wait here!”

 


Just a minute
.”

 

Those words didn’t compute with Daniel. Fuck, that was his wife. He watched through the window as she disappeared down the hallway. Her black curls fell down the back of the white gurney as she struggled and shook her head. He just stared and stared at those curls. Oh God, she needed him. He beat on the doors, which were, of course, securely locked and accessible only with a white hospital card. He looked around for one to rip off someone’s neck.

 

“Daniel—” Vincent reached out to him.

 

Daniel pushed him hard against the wall. “What did you do?”

 

“I drove her to the hospital. That’s all. I didn’t do anything to her.”

 

Daniel couldn’t believe this was happening. He couldn’t believe she’d run to Vincent without telling him. He couldn’t believe it was Vincent who’d driven her here.
He
was the father.
He
was her husband. No one should have taken care of her but him. No one could take care of her like he could. Now he’d had the door slammed in his face, and Vincent holding him back.

 

Vincent shook him and pushed him away. “Get ahold of yourself. She’s going to need you soon. Calm down.”

 

“What happened? Why is she in there?”

 

“The baby’s in distress.”

 

“Oh God, Wednesday was right. She’s going to die. It’s all my fault.”

 

“Jesus Christ,” Vincent said. “You two. She just needs an emergency C-section. It happened with my first wife. She and the baby will be perfectly fine. Why don’t we go sit in the lobby and wait—”

 

“I’m not going anywhere! I’m waiting right here until someone lets me in. That’s my wife!”

 

“Yes, we all heard you yelling that earlier. I’m sure they’re aware.”

 

“Just shut up and get out of here.”

 

Vincent leaned against the wall. “I’m not leaving until I know she’s okay.”

 

“No, you’re leaving. Now. This is all your fault!”

 

“My fault? How so?”

 

“You and your stupid-ass phone call. You couldn’t call my cell like every other time?”

 

“I tried your cell. You weren’t returning my messages.”

 

“You got her all riled up! Why didn’t you hang up when she answered? You still want to be with her. You’re trying to sabotage us, and guess what? It fucking worked!”

 

“Jesus, Daniel. I have my own girls now. Plenty of them actually.”

 

“None of them are like her!”

 

“No, they aren’t. But they’ll have to do, since I can’t have what you have.” Vincent’s voice broke, a small catch of emotion that caught Daniel by surprise. He’d never seen cool Vincent lose his composure, not once.

 

“Why did she come to you? What did she say?”

 

“It’s private. It’s personal. I’d rather not share.” Daniel could easily have killed him, which probably showed in his face, because Vincent added, “Nothing inappropriate, I promise you. What do you think, that she came back to be with me? That I’d try to woo her back while she was in labor with your child? There’s too much water under that bridge. Believe me, she’s yours. We just came to some…understandings. It was long overdue.”

 

“What kind of understandings?”

 

“Understandings you wouldn’t understand. Some business between me and her, and now it’s finished. It’s all straightened out. Let’s just say…” Vincent searched for words a moment. “I guess I confused
owning
her and
loving
her. The two ideas got tangled up in my head.”

 

Daniel just stared. “I had to work that out too,” he finally replied, remembering black words scrawled on white walls. “It’s possible to do both, I guess. But maybe not always…the best thing to do.” The door banged open then, startling both of them, and the nurse stared them down with a frown.

 

“One visitor only,” she said. “The father can come back.”

 

The father. That was him.

 

Daniel could barely put on the paper socks, the paper outfit, and the gloves fast enough. He heard the baby when he walked into the room, but all he saw was Wednesday still asleep on the table… Asleep or…? No, not dead. He could see her chest rising and falling, even though she was as pale as the grave.

 

“Is Wednesday okay?” Daniel asked the doctor over the crying of the baby.

 

“Yes, she’s fine,” he said. “Your wife will wake up from the anesthesia soon. In the meantime, would you like to hold your baby girl?”

 

Daniel nodded, staring at the bundle the nurse was holding. The woman smiled and laid the baby in his arms.

 

Daniel fell in love at first sight for the second time. He took in every amazing detail. Her eyes were screwed shut, her mouth was in full wail, but her hair, oh…her hair was Wednesday through and through. Blue-black, thick, and already curly. Some instinct made him start to bounce the infant, hold her close, and rock her. She calmed and blinked open bleary eyes to look at him. Blue, so blue. She looked so much like her mother that he could only stare.

BOOK: Owning Wednesday
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