The Ex Who Stole My Delivery Room - Chapter 1: Chapter 1
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I doubled over as another contraction tore through me, my fingers digging into my swollen belly.
"Harris, please," I begged, my voice shaking. Sweat beaded on my forehead as I gasped, "We need to go to the hospital. Now."
Harris barely glanced at me, his expression unreadable. "Just a minute, Darcy," he muttered, already dialing someone on his phone.
I gritted my teeth as another wave of pain hit, my body trembling. He wasn't even looking at me—just pacing, impatient, like my agony was an inconvenience.
"A phone call?" I snapped, my patience snapping with it. "Are you serious right now? I'm in labor!"
He held up a hand, shushing me as if I were a noisy TV. "Darcy, please. This is important."
Important? What the hell could be more important than—
His phone rang. He answered, his face shifting—desperation, panic, then grim resolve.
"I have to go," he said abruptly, already grabbing his keys.
My stomach dropped. "What? No, Harris—you can't leave me like this!" My voice cracked. "I need you!"
He hesitated, guilt flickering in his eyes before hardening. "I'm sorry, Darcy. But… Cindy's in labor too. She has no one else."
The words hit like a slap. Cindy? His ex? He was leaving me for her?
"You've got to be kidding me," I choked out, my hands shaking.
He didn't even flinch. "She's alone in this city, Darcy. You'll be fine—it's probably false labor, like last time."
False labor? I could feel my body splitting apart. But before I could scream at him, he was gone, the door slamming behind him.
I stood there, stunned, pain radiating through me. The doctor had warned about false contractions… but this wasn't that. My baby was coming. Now.
Tears blurred my vision as I grabbed my phone. My contacts were empty—just Harris's number. Would he even answer?
No. He wouldn't.
Gritting my teeth, I forced myself toward the door, every step agony. Outside, the cold air hit me, and then—
A black Ferrari sped past. Harris's car.
For a second, hope flared—until I saw her.
Cindy, curled in the passenger seat, her face contorted in pain. Harris gripping her hand, murmuring "1… 2… 3…" like some damn birth coach.
My stomach twisted. Then—
A sudden, terrifying rush between my legs.
"Oh my God…" I whispered, frozen in horror.
It wasn't false labor.
My baby was coming. Alone on the sidewalk.
"Harris, please," I begged, my voice shaking. Sweat beaded on my forehead as I gasped, "We need to go to the hospital. Now."
Harris barely glanced at me, his expression unreadable. "Just a minute, Darcy," he muttered, already dialing someone on his phone.
I gritted my teeth as another wave of pain hit, my body trembling. He wasn't even looking at me—just pacing, impatient, like my agony was an inconvenience.
"A phone call?" I snapped, my patience snapping with it. "Are you serious right now? I'm in labor!"
He held up a hand, shushing me as if I were a noisy TV. "Darcy, please. This is important."
Important? What the hell could be more important than—
His phone rang. He answered, his face shifting—desperation, panic, then grim resolve.
"I have to go," he said abruptly, already grabbing his keys.
My stomach dropped. "What? No, Harris—you can't leave me like this!" My voice cracked. "I need you!"
He hesitated, guilt flickering in his eyes before hardening. "I'm sorry, Darcy. But… Cindy's in labor too. She has no one else."
The words hit like a slap. Cindy? His ex? He was leaving me for her?
"You've got to be kidding me," I choked out, my hands shaking.
He didn't even flinch. "She's alone in this city, Darcy. You'll be fine—it's probably false labor, like last time."
False labor? I could feel my body splitting apart. But before I could scream at him, he was gone, the door slamming behind him.
I stood there, stunned, pain radiating through me. The doctor had warned about false contractions… but this wasn't that. My baby was coming. Now.
Tears blurred my vision as I grabbed my phone. My contacts were empty—just Harris's number. Would he even answer?
No. He wouldn't.
Gritting my teeth, I forced myself toward the door, every step agony. Outside, the cold air hit me, and then—
A black Ferrari sped past. Harris's car.
For a second, hope flared—until I saw her.
Cindy, curled in the passenger seat, her face contorted in pain. Harris gripping her hand, murmuring "1… 2… 3…" like some damn birth coach.
My stomach twisted. Then—
A sudden, terrifying rush between my legs.
"Oh my God…" I whispered, frozen in horror.
It wasn't false labor.
My baby was coming. Alone on the sidewalk.
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