f o r t y - o n e : realism


"AAHHH!" I scream.

Why the fuck didn't anyone tell me this would be so painful? I grab onto one of the nurses. "Help me!"

She stammers, "Ma'am, as I've told you, there's nothing more I can do. You already took an epidural. If I give you any more medicine, your life will be at risk," she says matter of factly.

Fuck her. Fuck this. I'm in a random building in the middle of nowhere, pushing a baby through a keyhole. Fuck Harry.

Fuck this country. Tears are streaming through my ears and the only support I have is from my assistant--and that's because I threatened his job. I have to give birth in this remote location so that no one knows I've gotten pregnant. Even though technically we've reformed, getting knocked up is not a good look for me as president--the first female president of the United States. No one will know about this--no one.

"AAHH!" I let out a short shriek.

"He's coming down," that bitch nurse says lowly.

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