The tires screech as I take a sharp turn, my heart pounding louder than the roar of the engine. I shouldn’t be driving like this, but I don’t care. Olivia needs me. She’s been my best friend for years, and there’s no way I’m missing this. Not after everything we’ve been through together.

When her ex walked out the moment he found out she was pregnant, I was furious. I knew Olivia - strong, smart, stubborn - would face it head-on, but no one should have to do that alone. So I stayed. Every appointment, every late-night craving, every tearful moment when she doubted she could do this, I was there.

I promised her she wouldn’t go through this without someone by her side, and I meant it.

The hospital looms ahead, and I practically throw the car into park, sprinting toward the entrance. My pulse races as I burst into the maternity ward, breathless.

“You can’t go in!” A nurse says sharply, blocking my path.

“I have to be there.” I insist, panic rising in my chest.

“I’m sorry, but -”

“Jesse!” Olivia’s voice cuts through the chaos, strained but fierce. “Let him in! I need him!”

The nurse hesitates, then relents with a sigh. “Fine, but stay out of the way.”

I don’t need telling twice. I rush to Olivia’s side, grabbing her hand as she fights through another contraction. Her face is flushed, eyes wild with pain and determination.

“You’re late.” She gasps, trying to joke through the agony.

“I’m sorry.” I manage, squeezing her hand. “But I’m here now.”

Hours blur together. I hold her hand, whisper words of encouragement, and wipe the sweat from her brow. She’s fierce, stronger than I’ve ever seen her.

Then, suddenly, a cry fills the room. The baby. Olivia collapses back, tears streaming down her face, and I’m right there with her, overwhelmed by emotion.

“You did it.” I whisper, my voice cracking.