got me grinning and kicking my legs all blushing like bc we've got over 500k reads on this story
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"Deep breaths, baby, you're doing so good," I cooed, stroking the top of Max's hand. He had his hand held low between his legs, body shaking with intense and uneven breaths. This man was in a full blown panic and there were still ten hours remaining in our flight back to the UK where Zara was entering the stages of active labour with our babies. From the looks of it, Max's brain had gone into a spiral and the only thing I could do was coach him through it. One of us needed to remain calm even though I was freaking out just as much on the inside - call it experience.
After a few deeper inhales, ragged and desperate, his breathing seemed to finally return to a more normal rhythm. His blue eyes met mine as he lifted his head, the colour appearing electric as the water pooled in his waterline. I tried my best to give him a smile of reassurance but it fell short as my own nerves started to get the better of me.
I slowly moved into the seat next to him, ensuring I kept my hand on him at all times. "We've still got plenty of time before the babies are born, okay? Here," I handed him the glass of water I had poured him shortly after the seatbelt sign of Lewis' jet had been lifted a few hours ago, "drink this."
With a shaky hand, Max brought the cup up to his lips and took a small sip. For a moment, I thought I had finally succeeded in calming him down. "But what if we miss it? I-I want to be there when they're born and we were on the other side of the world how are we expected to get back in time-"
"Hey, hey, hey," I interrupted, gently grasping his face with my hands so that he could only look at me. "We're going to make it back in time, you hear me?"
"But how do you know?"
I shrugged my shoulders. "I don't know, but I have to believe that we will. There's nothing we can do to get there any quicker. This is Zara's first birth and I've been reading that it's usually longer the first time. I mean, I'm my mum's second born and she was in labour with me for nearly a whole twenty-four hours. Chances are, we'll make it, but if we don't, our babies are still going to make it into this world. We won't love them any less, they won't love us any less."
"How-" Max took gulp of water when the words got caught in his throat, "How are you so... calm?"
"You want the truth?" I asked.
"You're not high, are you?"
"What? No!"
"Oh, good, because you can't be meeting our kids for the first time high as a kite."
I couldn't help but laugh as I pushed on his shoulder. "You're something else, Verstappen."
He copied my smile and wiped underneath his eyes, clearing the remanence of any tears. "So what's the secret?"
"The secret is I'm absolutely bricking it, but I've perfected the art of internalising my anxiety," I said in a way that came across as a brag. Max let out a small chuckle. "You know, I thought you'd be better at it because of all the shit with your dad."
"That's internalised rage," he pointed out. "My emotions were only to be shown when no one else was around."
"Aww," I placed my hand on my heart, "I'm no-one?"
"Shut up," he playfully rolled his eyes. "You know what you mean to me. You're the furthest thing from 'no-one' I've ever met."
I smiled at his words. Although a little clumsy, I knew exactly what he meant because I felt the same. It's crazy how quickly things can change. This time last year, I'm pretty sure I was fucking Lando Norris, and now here I am with my soulmate on a plane to witness the birth of our daughters. A past version of myself probably would've bolted if she knew what was in for her. "I'm glad you can trust me."
"And I'm glad you can trust me."
My heart felt like is was swelling and I knew that, despite our rocky history, I did trust this man. Sure, the way he goes about things could do with some refining, but he would never intentionally hurt me. Hell, he's trusting me to be the mother of his kids, our kids, and given my unstable history that's a huge fucking deal. It's like there's always been an invisible string tying us together, unbreakable. It's always brought us back together no matter what. "I do."
"Save those words for our wedding day."
His words got me thinking and I started speaking before I could even stop myself. "Can you promise me something?"
"Anything within reason," he said with a joking tone.
I smiled and shook my head. "Can you promise me that you won't propose to me?"
The confusion set quickly on his face, his eyebrows knit together, his smile turned into a small frown, and his head tilted to the side. "You don't want to marry me?"
"No, I do," I quickly replied in an attempt to ease his nerves, "I just want to be the one to propose this time around."
Max let out a sigh of relief. "Oh, okay. Just please promise me that you'll only do it when I look good."
"I think you always look good," I told him, resting my head against his shoulder lovingly. "But I'll make sure you look nice. I don't want it to completely catch you by surprise, though, because I need one of us not to be crying and it's more than likely going to be me."
"Wow, Lys, toxic masculinity much? Am I not allowed to cry?"
"How are we ever going to get through a proposal if we're both blubbering messes?"
"Well then you keep it together. You're the one who's proposing after all."
I rolled my eyes. "Fine."
I tried my best to keep Max distracted by having him guess when he thinks I'm going to propose. Little did he know, that every single one of his expectations were then crossed from my list of where I could plan to ask him to be my husband. I wanted to catch him by surprise even though he knew I was going to be the one to do it. It was all a pretty good distraction for about an hour, and then I had to change my tactics. We talked about potential seat changes that hadn't yet been secured, the weather, politics, and I even quizzed him on how well he knew my racing history. Neither of us could manage a nap of any kind and so in our exhaustion it was harder and harder to panic. By the time it was announced we'd be landing shortly, Max was busy learning the lyrics to every Taylor Swift song. He had decided his favourite album was Reputation, which made a lot of sense to me, although I got the sense he enjoyed Lover a little more than he was letting on.
Max hummed 'Don't blame me' as we slowly made our way through security, the process feeling significantly longer when we knew we had somewhere to be. When I had finally switched my phone back on, Zara had sent a recent message that she was in full-blown labour, but it was thankfully progressing slowly. She was admitted in the hospital local to our house, which was about an hours drive. It was the middle of the night so thankfully traffic was minimal and we ended up pulling up shortly after two. Max's parking left something to be desired, however neither of us cared. We were straight in the automatic doors and practically sprinted to the maternity department on the third floor.
Room 370. Zara's groans cut through the closed door, echoing though the hallway, and sent my stomach into a cartwheel. This is really happening. A nurse met us just outside the door, a warm smile on her face. "Are you the father?"
"Yes, I am," Max replied, voice shaking. "A-and she's their mother."
The nurse turned to me with a tilted head, although she hid her confusion well. "I'm afraid that unless Zara has previously requested another person to join, we simply cannot-"
"Bring them in here, now!" Zara shouted, her voice strained from what I presumed to be a contraction. "She's their- ow fuck- mother!"
The nurse didn't say anything else but opened up the door wide enough for us to enter before hastily shutting it. Zara was propped up by the bed, her legs open and fully revealing, surrounded by three different doctors. The cover up they had attempted to use was ridden all the way up to Zara's hips but it seemed like she didn't care. Even though I had only seen her recently, her stomach seemed so much bigger. Sweat coated her creased forehead and slicked back her messy hair, shining in the bright-white hospital lights. Whilst one of her hands gripped the sheets of her hospital bed tightly, knuckles white, the other kept a firm hold of a small tube that she took a deep breath from, most likely the only form of pain relief she was getting. She's stronger than I am, that's for sure. At the first twinge of pain, I would've requested an epidural. I felt my lower abdomen twist with sympathy pains and tightly held on to Max's hand to keep myself steady.
"Alright, Zara, you're crowning," talk about good timing, "at the next contraction, I want you to give me a big push. Can you manage that?"
The poor girl looked exhausted. It was if I was taken over by instinct, not acting with a thought in my mind other than 'oh my god', when I let go of Max and took Zara's hand. My body just knew that she'd need my support for these final few stages and Max was just frozen.
"You've got this," I mumbled to Zara soothingly, smoothing down the top of her hair with the hand she didn't have a death-grip on. "You've done so well and I'm so proud of you. Only a few more pushes to go and it'll be over."
"I should've taken the stronger meds," she sobbed into my shoulder. "It feels like my vagina is being torn open and set on fire at the same time."
"You're so strong, you've got this." I managed to make eye contact with a wide-eyed Max. He looked so lost and helpless. "Max, go stand at the end and greet your daughters as they come into the world, as long as you don't mind, angel?" I directed the last part to Zara, her shook her head. I could feel her grip tightening on my hand which could only mean one thing - it's another contraction. "Max, go!"
Nearly tripping over his own feet, Max finally snapped back to reality and joined the midwife at the end of the bed. I knew that I'd do a much better job at consoling Zara than he would and I really didn't fancy seeing a bloody mess of a body part that I had, too.
I ignored the pop in my hand and the electric shock of pain. Instead, I leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss on the top of Zara's damp hair and continued to offer words of encouragement through her screams and groans. I decided then and there in that moment that if I was able to birth children, it would not be until I could forget the scene in this small hospital room.
My attention snapped away from Zara when the sound of small, yet piercing cries filled the room. Everyone had fallen silent to stare in awe at the tiny infant cradled in the midwife's arms. Her skin was bright pink and underneath the layers of I don't even want to know what that stuff is poked through shirt tufts of brown hair. Oh, she was perfect.
After the cord was cut by Max, one of the other doctors took the baby over to a cot-style bed so that they could dry the little one off. I knew the wailing to be a good sign even though she seemed impossibly tiny. It was impossible for me to take my eyes if the beautiful girl. My beautiful girl. Holy shit, I'm a mother.
Soon enough, the world was joined by a second and equally beautiful baby. She was smaller than her sister and didn't wail at first, but when she did... oh boy, was it loud. In those few moments, I think my heart had stopped completely in fear that something was wrong. I knew then and there that I would do anything and everything in my power to protect my two daughters.
"They're so small," I said to no one in particular, voice barely above a whisper as it cracked with emotion. I still couldn't bring myself to move from Zara's side as she recovered from the birth. Her chest continued to heave but no more tears leaked from her eyes. She wasn't watching the two girls she had just birthed, but Max, who was trying to catch a glimpse as the doctors performed their tests.
One of the more senior doctors turned to face us, a wide smile on his face. "Although the girls are six weeks premature, they both appear strong and healthy. Baby B has some raspiness when she breathes, but we will monitor that in the NICU to make sure there's nothing wrong. Both are more than likely going to need to stay under monitoring for a couple of weeks just because they are so small, but things are hopeful. Congratulations, you three. You have four-pound ten-ounce and four-pound four-ounce baby girls. Would you like to hold them?"
I let out a shaky breath and finally stepped forward. "Yes, please."
Whilst Max took the slightly bigger baby, I gently cradled the smaller of the twins in my arms. I cooed and couldn't contain my smile as I looked down at her round face. Her button nose was my favourite part, although it was replaced every single time I focused on a new part of her. I could see some similarities to Max in her already, like the way her forehead scrunches as she tries to get comfy in my arms, and in the shape of her rosy lips.
"Thank you, Zara," I smiled at the exhausted looking girl, who weakly returned it. Who would've thought that walking in on her hugging my Fiancé would lead to something as special as this? "Did you want to hold them at all?"
Zara shook her head. "No, it's okay. I've been carrying them for the past seven or so months and that was more than enough for me."
"No worries."
"Have you decided on names yet?" the doctor asked, looking between Max and I expectantly.
"Oh no, we actually have to name them."
I was about to swear but stopped myself because of the babies in the room. "I so nearly said 'fuck' then."
"Alyssa!"
My eyes widened in realisation. "Shit! I mean- fuck, I mean-"
"I'm going to start a swear jar just for you because I am not having their first words be something so... colourful," Max sternly told me, however his smile betrayed the fact that he found it amusing. He then looked back down at the baby in his arms. They're even smaller than Lemon. "I had an idea about what to call them, but now they're here, I'm not sure the names were right."
"There's no rush," I reassured him. "When we know what to call Sharpay and Ryan for the rest of their lives, it'll just feel right."
"We are not naming our girls after High School Musical."
"Okay, okay, fine." An amused smile worked its way into my lips as I gently rocked closer to Max. "How about Speak Now (Taylor's Version) and Red (Taylor's Version)?" This earned a chuckle from the doctors. They tried to pretend they weren't listening in to our conversation but it was very hard not to now that the crying has ceased and our voices filled the square room.
I teased Max with a few other baby name ideas, including Mercedes and Petronas, which were quickly shut down, before the doctors announced that they needed to move the girls up to the NICU in order to free up the maternity room. I didn't want to let go of my new daughter, but reluctantly did so so that she could be properly taken care of. So my arms didn't feel so empty, I wrapped them around Max and cuddled into his chest, watching as the bassinets were wheeled out of the room. The only reassurance came when the doctor said we could go up shortly and stay with them.
Zara was also moved to a different ward so that she could rest and recover, leaving Max and I to sit together in the waiting room of the NICU as new parents. The feeling in my chest was indescribable and I knew that it was the feeling so many new mothers get. A part of me had feared that I wouldn't feel anything because they're not biologically my daughters, but they quickly faded away into nothingness.
"What time is it in Malaysia?" I absentmindedly asked, catching the rays of the rising sun through the window. Now that we had sat down, the lack of sleep was catching up to me. My words were slower than normal but I was determined to keep going until I could see the girls again. It certainly helped that these hospital chairs were far from comfy and poked me in all the wrong places.
"Uh," Max lazily lifted his arm to check his watch, "probably about midday. Why?"
"I should probably give Toto and Lizzie a call, and you should probably call your people and send a text to family. They'd want to know that the girls are here and they're doing good."
Max shot up in his chair. "Shit, I need to let my mum know!"
I chuckled at his frantic behaviour and placed a calming hand on his knee. "I'll need a ouija board to let mine know."
"I think the fewer people who know the better right now," Max said, ignoring my dead-mum comment. "I want to stay in this little bubble of us for as long as possible."
I hummed in agreement just as a doctor stepped out of a darkened room. Her eyes immediately fell to us and a kind smile grew on her face. "You can sit in with them now, if you'd like."
Max and I shared a look before he spoke, "My mum can wait."
~***~
*not edited*
ahhhh they're finally here! the name reveals will come next chapter and they are heavily influenced by your guys' suggestions from agesssss ago haha.
i tried doing my research for this chapter but the thought of childbirth makes my insides hurt so it's very half-assed so excuse anything that was wrong/inaccurate. remember this is fiction and so this birthing process is canon for this book and therefore can i really be wrong? (yes, alyssa, you can)
i have a new book out! 'Limerick' is a charles leclerc fic and it's going to be full of love, and lies, and pining. i was initially going to make it a slow burn but i simply cannot write those i just want to get to the relationships
qotc:
aotc: