Georgina

Impossible.

He's a fever dream. An hallucination. Brought into real, beautiful, corporeal being by my deepest, more desperate wishes.

"Richard," I croak, trembling. The contractions are ravaging. In moments, the doctor says well begin pushing in earnest. A terror I didn't know would come has me around the throat, and it's good I'm lying down when I see him, or I'm sure I'd collapse. "What are you doing here?"

He rushes from the doorway, catching and gripping my hand as he leans beside me. "Pregnant? Really, Ms. Felton?"

I laugh, despite myself. My body is quivering with anticipation, bracing for the fight of its life. "I didn't mean to keep it from you. I mean I did, but...God, Richard, it's been so hard."

Tears roll down my cheeks. I turn away to hide them, but Richard catches my cheek in his palm, turning my eyes to his.

"I'm here now," he whispers, and those words, the ones I've wanted and yearned for and dreamed of — those fairytale words break my heart all over again. "Georgina."