Wren

[Seven Months Later]

A wave of contraction hits me for the third time, and I grip the edge of the island, turning off the gas.

“Mommy?” Hannah prods.

I look up at her, red-faced, and I choke out, “Call daddy.”

Her eyes widen and she reaches for my phone, punching Ezra’s number and placing it on loudspeaker.

He picks up immediately. “My darling, I was just about to call and ask if you need any—”

“Babe,” I grit out.

The line goes quiet for a bit. “Is ...