The pain was so intense I couldn't form words. Maybe my expression was convincing enough, because Ivan wavered, half-believing, and moved to help me up.
But Glenda grabbed his arm. "Ivan, let me take a look. I've been through childbirth before—I know what I'm doing."
She pressed Cooper into Ivan's arms. He seemed about to say something, but the boy's whimpering cut him off. Ivan cradled the child carefully, drifting toward the window, patting his back and murmuring softly.
Glenda came closer. Slowly, she peeled back the blanket—and her eyes went wide.
Dark crimson blood was seeping from between my legs, soaking through my nightgown.
Then she smiled. "Oh my, it's nothing at all! Stella, you really are delicate, aren't you?"
Ivan's face went cold, just as she'd intended.
"I knew it, Stella. You were faking."
Glenda flashed a coy smile. "Isn't a wife meant to be pampered? She's just a little sensitive, Ivan. You should comfort her more."
"If she can't handle this much pain, imagine what labor will be like. You'd better book her an epidural in advance."