Briggs roars, kicking over a trash can next to us, chest heaving and nostrils flaring. “I would never. I would’ve never signed those fucking papers. All I've ever wanted was a family, my own family. That fucking piece of shit!”
I shake my head, feeling the depth of his pain as we’ve both been robbed of something important.
“God, Maddison, I’m so fucking sorry. I’m so sorry I haven’t been there. If I knew… If I had any idea, I never would’ve missed a second. I’m so fucking sorry.”
I’m shocked when I see tears welling in his eyes. This man is telling the truth, I can see the sincerity behind his eyes, I can feel them in his words.
I stand from the bench and walk over to where he’s standing. Just as I’m about to open my mouth, I feel something warm and wet trickle down the inside of my inner thigh.
Holy shit, did I just pee myself?
I look down, and there's another gush of liquid, and I realize that this might be the worst second chance meet-cute of all time because my water just broke.
“Oh my god,” I whisper. This cannot possibly be happening. Not right now. Not now.
No. No. No
Briggs looks down and his eyes widen. “Maddison… What’s happening?
I look down between my legs again. “Pretty sure my water just broke… Looks like we’re going to meet our daughter. Uh… Right now.”
Ten
For a second, I’m frozen. I can’t move. Literally, it’s like I’ve fucking forgotten how to function like a normal human.
What in the fuck? I whisper to myself, trying to make some sort of sense with the information that Maddison’s just told me, but it’s not computing.
"Oh, God,” Maddison cries, painfully, causing me to shake the cloud of shock from my mind, and focus on her hunched over in front of me. She’s obviously in pain, and it makes the situation that much more real.
Oh fuck.
Fuck.
This is really happening. Right the fuck now.
I literally just found out I’m about to be a father, five seconds ago, and now we’re going to the hospital.
I can’t hardly process the fact since Maddison continues to be hunched over in pain.
Fuck.
I rush forward and place my hand on her back, steadying her. Her small hand grips my biceps, so tightly, I’ll probably have killer marks, but it’s not what I’m focused on; it’s the look of agony on her face is.
“Are you okay? What do I do? Should I call an ambulance?”
She gazes up at me before her face contorts into pain once more, leaving me feeling helpless. I don’t have a clue of what to do in this situation. Hell, the only pregnant women I’ve seen are on tv shows.
Letting out a gasp, she clutches her stomach again. “I need to sit down and time the contractions, b-b-uut they’re coming fast.” Sucking in air, she inhales and exhales while I fish my phone from the pocket of my slacks and turn on the timer app then I help her to the park bench.
Her fingers are still gripping my arm with ferocity as she practices breathing, and it’s obvious she’s much more prepared for this than I am, and rightly so, since I just fucking found out I’m about to welcome my daughter into the world. Another contraction hits her and her grip tightens, digging into my arm as she clutches her stomach and squeezes her eyes shut. Her beautiful face is contorted in pain, and each time, it seems like another nail in my heart with a rusty fucking hammer.
Jesus.
“How l-long was that one?”
I glance down at my phone. “Six minutes and thirty-three seconds.”
“Shit,” she whispers, “I thought that the pain I was feeling was just Braxton hicks, but this is the real deal. We have to get to the hospital like… now.”
“I’ll get my truck. Stay here.”
She laughs through clenched teeth. “As if I can go anywhere, Briggs…”
Fuck, I’m an idiot. Hesitantly, I leave her on the park bench and run, full-stop to my truck. Hopping inside, I start it and race over to where I left her sitting. Once I park, I hop out with the keys still in the ignition then run over to the bench and help her up.
“Okay, this hurts. Like… REALLY hurts,” she says.
“Let’s get you to the hospital and they can give you the good stuff. They do that, I think, right?”
I swallow thickly. I’m so out of my damn element. Pregnancy? Birth? Fuck, my stomach plummets thinking of the logistics. I’m not actually ignorant, I know what happens in childbirth, but right now, I think the best thing to do is to not actually imagine childbirth.
“I'm going the natural route. No medication.”
My eyes widen as I help her into my truck. She drops her head back against the leather and starts her deep, settled breathing again and I waste no time shutting the door then sliding back into the driver seat.
I keep my arm on the console, just in case she needs it, and pull the truck onto the freeway. Every few seconds, I glance over at her to make sure she’s okay, and she groans out loud.
“I think I accidentally may have ruined your leather seats.”
I laugh, hoarse and full of worry. “Fuck, Maddison, I don’t give a shit about the damn seat. I’ll replace the whole truck if I have to.”
Her gaze snaps to mine, a reminder that she doesn’t know the real me, the man hidden behind the hockey helmet and roar of a crowd, or the headline of a blog.
“Yeah,” she whispers, then grabs onto the door and my arm as another contraction hits her. “Can you possibly drive any slower?”
My eyes snap to the odometer and see that I’m driving slower than my grandma, but hell, I’ve got the mother of my child in my front seat. If there was ever precious cargo, it’s them.
“Briggs, I’m going to have the baby on the floorboard of your truck if you don’t. Fucking. Drive,” she screeches. This time her voice is garbled with pain and it has me slamming my foot down on the accelerator.
I’m prepared for a lot of shit. My mother letting herself in my house unannounced, Coach banishing me because I’ve got a behavior issue, my friends fucking with me because it’s their life goal to make me crazy, but this? A baby being born in my front seat?
Nope. Not prepared at all. My foot inches down on the accelerator even harder as I press the caution button to let the cops know to please not pull me the fuck over, or we’re both going to have our hands full.
"Breathe, Maddison,” I croak, as her short fingernails cut into my arm, ready to break the skin. “We’re almost there.”
With her eyes squeezed tightly shut, she nods, breathing in deeply then back out again, never letting up on her hold.
Somehow, I get us to the hospital in one piece, without Maddison actually giving birth in the front seat, and thank fuck I had the sense to call ahead because a nurse with a wheelchair meets us at the front door of the ER.
Maddison’s whisked away, leaving me with a nurse wearing a pair of dark pink scrubs.
“Where do I go?”
She looks at me with a smile. “Well, Dad, looks like you’re going to meet your little one. Time to let Mom get settled in her room. Follow me.”
I used to think I wasn’t a squeamish guy. I mean, playing hockey I’ve seen injuries that would make even the strongest stomachs turn. Bones splintering through legs, missing teeth, cuts so deep you can see the tendons and muscles underneath.