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MABEL

"Come on, you got this. Keep pushing!"

The nurse encouraged as my head dropped to the pillow, sweat covering my body.

"I can't," I cried out. "I can't do this. Where is my husband?" My eyes drifted to my mother-in-law, Claire Hoss, who sat by the edge of the room with her eyes fixed on her tablet.

Yes, the fashion world comes first. Not your future grandson. The great Claire Hoss can't be seen slipping, not even when her daughter-in-law is in the most excruciating pain of her life.

"Where is he!" I shivered, voice breaking and loudening, startling her. The tablet dropped on her lap.

"Hey!" She was annoyed and walked towards me. "It's not that bad," she said with a fake smile plastered on her lips.

"Have you been given an epidural?" Her hands went deep into my hair. "Give her more medication," she said to the nurse beside me, who didn't blink twice but did as she was told.

"I don't want more medication. I want my husband!" I cried, pushing the injection away.

"Listen to me!" Claire grabbed strands of my hair and lifted my face to hers. I could feel her breath on me.

"This is my son's child, my grandchild, and heir to the Hoss throne. You better start pushing!" She yelled, and I screamed as another contraction hit me.

"No, no, no," I cried out, shaking my head. "I want him. I want my husband."

"He can't be with you right now," Claire said, like she wanted to spite me.

I never understood why she never liked me. I didn't do anything wrong or do anything to annoy her. She didn't like me from the first time my husband, Ethan, introduced me to her.

I tried to build a good relationship with her, but she refused to budge. As a stylist, I had worked for many picky clients, and one thing I learned from them is that you couldn't make a deal if they never truly respected you. So I simply gave up on pleasing my mother-in-law.

"Where is he?" I asked. "He should be here to see his son come into this world."

I needed my husband. I was giving birth to his son. Every push on the delivery bed was extremely painful, and I needed him here to support me.

She gave me a look that fired up my suspicion antenna.

"Please, Claire, call him and ask him here," I pleaded.

"I didn't tell him," she said, looking at me with mockery on her face. "He was accompanying Hailey instead. She's giving birth today as well. You're strong enough to labor yourself, right?"

I couldn't place it—if it was the contraction pain or the fact that my husband was with his so-called best friend instead of being with his wife.

"I'm his wife!" I raised my voice, but it sounded too weak as another contraction hit.

Tears and sweat covered my face. I was in more pain, both physically and mentally. I needed Ethan. I needed to hold his hand through this.

But he wasn't here. He was with his best friend, holding another woman's hand and taking care of her emotions. He would even miss witnessing his child coming into this world.

"That's one minute apart. Get the doctor!" the nurse beside me yelled as she took my hands.

I looked at her with tears in my eyes. She wasn't taking orders from my mother-in-law. She was different and looked like she had my best interest at heart.

"I'm sorry, darling. You're going to have to push now," she said, and I shook my head with tears streaming.

"I can't," I whispered. She tightened her grip on my hand.

"You have to," she said. "You're going to have a beautiful baby." Her face was flushed with hope, and I scoffed.

"You probably say that to a million women," I said as I turned to look at my mother-in-law, who had left my side.

"No, I haven't," she said. "If the baby is going to be ugly, I'll tell you." I laughed through the pain.

"She has to push now!" She looked back, nodded, then back at me.

"I got you. You're not alone," she said, and I whimpered. "Now!" she ordered, and I pushed with everything I had.

"One more!" I heard.

"Ahhh!" I screamed and felt something heavy escape from my body. I closed my eyes, drifting.

"I want to see him. I want to see my baby," I whispered to the nurse.

"What's happening?" I heard Claire's voice.

"He's not crying..." That was the last thing I heard as my eyes closed.

When I opened my eyes, the room was different. Quieter.

The kind nurse, the one who held my hand, was gone.

A different woman stood beside my bed, older, with sharp eyes and a too-tight smile. She held a bundle wrapped in blue.

"Congratulations, Mrs. Hoss," she said, placing the baby in my arms. "A healthy boy."

I looked down at him. He was perfect. Ten tiny fingers. A button nose.

But something felt... off.

I couldn't explain it. Maybe it was the medication. Maybe exhaustion.

But when I touched his cheek, expecting that surge of recognition, that instant bond everyone talks about, I felt nothing.

Just a strange, hollow distance.

"Where's the other nurse?" I asked. "The one who was here before?"

The woman's smile tightened. "She finished her shift."

Then Claire walked in, and the woman disappeared like smoke.

"Let me see him," Claire said, not asked.

She plucked him from my arms before I could protest.

The baby didn't cry. He settled against her immediately, like he knew her. Like she was the one he'd been waiting for.

"Perfect," Claire whispered, her eyes gleaming. "Absolutely perfect."

And somewhere deep in my chest, beneath the exhaustion and pain, a small voice whispered: Something is wrong.

But I was too tired to listen.