Page 142 of Ruin The Friendship
I heave a sigh of relief hearing that. “Thank god.” I’m dressed in my street clothes now, and already running down the hall toward the parking garage. “I’ll be there as soon as possible. Call me if anything changes, okay?”
“You got it.”
We hang up, and my panic increases again. I should have stayed on the phone with her, so I don’t miss anything.
When I’m in my car, my phone connects to my Bluetooth, and I dial my parents.
“Are you there yet?” Mom asks, not even bothering to say hello.
“Not yet,” I say through clenched teeth. “I’m pulling out of the arena now. Thanks for getting her to go in.”
“She needed to. She wanted to watch the rest of the game, but I told her the last thing you needed was to find out she delivered your baby in the suite.”
A forced chuckle breaks free from my lips. “Yeah, she was being stubborn.”
“She is. Call me if you need anything, okay? I’m on my way, and I’ll head to your house.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
I hang up without thinking and call Lydia.
“Hey,” she answers, and her voice is tight, filled with so much pain it makes me want to cry.
“Hey, Lydi-bug. How are you doing?” It’s a stupid question, I know, but I have to hear it from her.
“Hurts,” she mutters, exhaling heavily. “Okay, it’s over.”
“Grace is with you?” I ask, even though I know the answer.
“Yep,” Lydia responds. “They just checked me, and I’m six centimeters, so we’re here to stay.”
“We’re going to have our baby soon.”
The realization hits me like a brick wall.
“Are you on your way?” Lydia asks, her voice soft.
“I’m on my way, beautiful. I’ll be there as soon as I can. I’m stuck in some of the post-game traffic, but I’ll be there.”
“I need you,” she whimpers.
God, I wish I could teleport.
“I know, baby.” I take a deep breath to try to calm my racing heart. “Are you getting the epidural?”
“Not yet.”
Headstrong girl. I sigh, but I’ll talk to her about it when I get there. Depending on how fast things move, she’s going to be at this for a while, and she’s going to need the rest. “Okay. I’ll be there soon.”
“Hurry.”
“I will.”
We say goodbye, and I end the call, tapping my fingers on the steering wheel as I sit at a standstill. I’m sure I reek of sweat and the locker room, but I have to hope Lydia doesn’t notice, or that I can sneak a quick shower at some point.
A few minutes later, I arrive at the hospital and enter the Labor and Delivery Unit, pressing the button to have them unlock the door. I give them my name, they let me in, and I sprint down the hall.
“Whoa,” a nurse says, holding up her hands and halting me. “She’s fine. Waiting for you.”
