Chapter 2: The Phone Between Contractions
The contraction broke, leaving Nayeon limp and shuddering against the bathtub. She felt hollowed out, scraped raw. The world had narrowed to this square of wet tile, Jihyo’s steady hands, and the unbearable, invisible pull that wanted to split her in two.
“On the next one,” Jihyo repeated, her voice low and impossibly calm. She adjusted the towels beneath Nayeon’s knees. “We’re pushing. Three good, long pushes. Give me everything you have.”
Fear, cold and sharp, cut through the haze. It wasn’t pain she was scared of anymore. It was the emptiness after. It was the sound of a cry that wasn’t Jeongyeon’s to hear first. “No,” Nayeon gasped. Her hand shot out, finding Jihyo’s wrist and clamping down with a strength that made Jihyo hiss. “I won’t. I can’t without her. Jihyo, I can’t.”
“Nayeon, look at me. The baby is coming. Now.”
“Call her.” Nayeon’s voice was a ragged, desperate thing. Tears and sweat streaked her face. “Put her on speaker. I need to hear her. Please.”
Jihyo’s jaw was a tight line. Every second was a compromise, a negotiation with biology. But she saw it in Nayeon’s eyes—a frantic, borderline panic that could stall everything. She snatched her phone from the floor, fumbled with wet, gloved fingers, and hit Jeongyeon’s contact. It rang once before connecting, the sound of a car engine and pounding rain filling the tiny room.“Jihyo? What’s happening? I’m stuck on the overpass, there’s a—”
“I’m putting you on speaker.” Jihyo cut her off, her voice clinical. She placed the phone on the edge of the sink and shifted back to Nayeon. “She’s here. Now, the next contraction is starting. I can see it. Breathe.”
Jeongyeon’s voice crackled through the storm static, tight with fear. “Nayeon? Baby, I’m here. I’m coming. Just hold on.”
Nayeon sobbed, a sound of pure relief at hearing her. The contraction swelled, a crushing, undeniable tide. Her body bore down of its own accord, a deep, primal groan tearing from her throat.
“Push, Nay!” Jihyo commanded, her hands ready. “Give me one long push! Now!”
“Push, baby, push!” Jeongyeon’s voice came through, ragged and fierce. “You’re so strong. Do it for us.”
It was the ‘us’ that did it. Nayeon’s head dropped, a guttural sound wrenching free as she pushed with every fiber of her being. The pressure was volcanic, an impossible stretching that felt like it would never end.
“Good!Good! Pant now, pant! Hee-hee-hoo, like we practiced!” Jihyo’s instructions were sharp.
Nayeon gasped, blowing out shaky breaths, her forehead slick against the tub.
“You’re doing it,” Jeongyeon chanted from the phone, a lifeline in the chaos. “I love you so much. I’m almost there. Just a few more streets.”
“Next one,” Jihyo said, her gaze fixed below. Her calm was fracturing at the edges, a thin layer of awe and terror in her eyes. “The head is right there. One more big push and we have a head. Nayeon, you have to focus. On my count.”
Nayeon nodded, her breath coming in short, sharp hitches. She felt drunk on pain and exhaustion. The pressure mounted again, faster this time. A deep, internal burn.
“Okay, now! Push!” Jihyo leaned in.
“Push, Nayeon, push!” Jeongyeon yelled, the sound mixing with the thunder outside.