The Girl He Marked

Chapter 33

Orelia's POV. This text is property of Nô/velD/rama.Org.

'Is it just me, or did everyone decide to have a baby today'

I let out a light laugh at Carol's comment.

'It does seem like it,' I reply to her.

'God here comes another one,' she mutters. 'I'll get it.'

I finish my cup of coffee, rinse out the mug and leave it on the side. I squirt some antiseptic on my

hands and rub it in.

I pick up the chart for Mrs. Navis and walk along to her room.

One hour later, she is well on her way to active labor, and I swap over with another midwife.

I'm only a couple of hours into this shift, but Mrs. Navis is assigned a different midwife to me, the other

one has been with her throughout her pregnancy.

I got back to the main reception, ready to be reassigned to an expectant mother or person.

'Oh, good, you're here,' one of the nurses greets me as I approach. 'We've just had a woman brought in

from the supermarket. She collapsed in the aisle and her waters broke. She's quite upset but, from

what I can tell, Dad is on the way.'

'Okay, I'm on it.'

I make my way to the room she is assigned. I knock on the door and poke my head around. One of the

nurses is already checking her vitals beside the bed.

'Hi, Letitia,' I greet her after checking her name on the chart. 'How are we doing'

Her face is pink and streaked with tears. She's panting in small, shallow breaths and holding her

stomach protectively. I start putting the monitor on her abdomen.

'Okay,' she gasps between tears. 'Just in a lot of pain.'

'Well, we can help you with that, honey,' I tell her.

I time her contractions and check how much her cervix is dilated. She's at 7cm and is in active labor. I

get her gas and air. She breathes deeply through the mask, inhaling the gas.

'Letitia,' I call her name to get her attention.

She pulls back the mask and forces a smile. 'Lettie, please.'

'Lettie,' I correct myself. 'Do you have a birthing partner Anyone I should call'

'Xavier is on his way,' she replies and winces when a contraction comes.

'Okay, no problem.'

I go and check on a couple of other rooms and return a half—hour later. Lettie is now nine centimeters

dilated. Her contractions are 2 minutes apart and lasting about forty—five seconds.

I stay with her for the next half hour, waiting for her to get to 10cm. We keep her walking around and

she goes to the toilet twice. When she's ready, we get her back onto the bed. The second midwife and

the doctor arrives.

'Okay, Lettie, you're at 10 centimeters now,' the doctor urges her. 'When the next contraction comes, I

need you to give me your first push, okay'

She bites her bottom lip and nods. She reaches out for me, and I offer her my hand. She squeezes it

tightly and I squeeze it back.

'You've got this,' I tell her quietly. 'Each contraction takes you closer to meeting your baby.'

Tears are streaming down Lettie's face, but she manages to give me a weak smile. The contraction

comes and she cries out, pushing as hard as she can.

When it's over, she falls back against the bed, breathing heavily.

'Where is he' She cries. 'Where is Xavier'

'He'll be here soon,' I try to reassure. 'Don't worry. He's coming.'

The baby's head is crowning. The midwife and I monitor both baby and Mum whilst the doctor focuses

on delivering.

All of a sudden, the door bursts open. One of the midwives pops her head into the room.

'Dad's here!' She claims excitedly and then disappears.

A few seconds later, a man stumbles in. A man so handsome that I almost drop my clipboard. His eyes

land on Lettie and he rushes to her side.

'I'm so sorry, there was so much traffic! Did I miss it'

I'm frozen, struck silent by the sound of his voice. It's a mixture of raspy huskiness and smooth

sexiness. It's like listening to whiskey and honey, if they were sounds.

I stare at the man, trying to get my brain to catch up. My body refuses to move, so I remain frozen,

hands gripping the clipboard, eyes locked on him.

He has shiny black hair, light hazel eyes and the longest freaking eyelashes I've ever seen. His face is

marred with worry, but he's still beautiful.

'No, you didn't miss it!' Lettie screeches. My body finally breaks the freeze by wincing at the noise. 'I'm

in the middle of birth!'

The man, Xavier, I presume, takes her hand.

'I'm so sorry,' he apologizes again. 'I'm here, now.'

'Another big push, Lettie,' the doctor encourages her.

With the next contraction, Lettie curls up her body and grits her teeth, pushing as hard as she can.

Xavier stands next to her, rubbing her back with one hand and holding her hand with the other.

His scent finally reaches me, and my body becomes a statue again.

My mate.

I'm watching my mate touch another woman, comfort another woman. A woman who is currently giving

birth to his child.

The clipboard slips from my fingers and clatters to the floor. Xavier looks up and finally notices me. My

heart stops as our eyes lock.

All of the warm feelings that I should be feeling are flooding through me, but they're wrong. This is all

wrong. He shouldn't be with her. He shouldn't be a father.

This is all so wrong.

His eyes widen as recognition flashes on his face. His lips part, but no words come out. We both just

stare at one another, equally as surprised.

'Orelia' The nurse next to me calls my name. 'Are you alright You dropped your chart.'

I snap out of the trance and manage to get my body to crouch down. I pick the clipboard up off of the

floor and straighten back up again. My mate's eyes are still on me.

'It's almost here, Lettie,' the doctor says joyfully. 'Stop pushing now and take some short breaths.'

Xavier snaps out of it and breaks our eye contact. On autopilot, he encourages Lettie through her next

contraction, but his eyes are still wide and his face blanched.

I take a step back, suddenly desperate to get out of here. The baby is only one push away, I can see

the size of its head coming out the business end of Lettie.

The nurse steps forward and administers an injection of oxytocin into Lettie's thigh to speed up the

afterbirth.

'One more, that's it, well done!'

The baby is out. The other midwife wraps the baby in a towel and wipes its face. I stand next to her and

focus my attention on the new—born. We clear its nasal passages and then the nurse hands him over

to Lettie.

She places him on the mother's stomach. Her hands instinctively wrap around him. Tears are

streaming down her face. She looks exhausted, but so deliriously happy.

Xavier is grinning, looking between Lettie and their baby.

Their baby.

I'm looking at a family. A family that I should never be a part of.

I need to get out of here.

The doctor is clearing away. I go to the door.

'We'll give you some time alone,' the other nurse tells them. 'I'll be in the corridor, and I'll come back in

about fifteen minutes to check on you. You should be ready for birth the placenta in about twenty—five

minutes.'

Xavier looks up, as if suddenly remembering me.

Yeah, I'm still here. Your mate. Remember me

I quickly rush out of the door. I powerwalk to the reception and slam the chart down on the desk. I

shouldn't have taken it with me, but I don't care right now.

'I'm going on a break,' I tell the receptionist. 'Five minutes, don't worry.'

I jog into the break room and close the door behind me. I collapse onto one of the armchairs and put

my head in my hands.

Worst. Day. Ever.

⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆✥⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆