He Bet My Labor Was Fake
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Summary
The amniotic fluid was slick against my calves, a warm, terrifying contrast to the freezing hospital floor, by the time I realized the pain had hollowed me out. I couldn’t even stand.
The 1:00 AM call to the ER should have been to the man who had sat through my last prenatal checkup just hours before. But when the line connected, it wasn't his voice that greeted me. It was a roar of laughter, the clinking of glasses, and the shrill, sharp voice of his "best friend."
"She’s totally faking it!" Talia shrieked over the music. "Thirty-seven weeks exactly? Please.
