EMMA'S POV

The world had narrowed to a pinpoint of searing pain, a relentless, primal force that consumed me. The sterile white walls of the delivery room blurred, the hushed voices of the nurses fading into a distant hum. Only Adrian's voice, a low, constant rumble against my ear, cut through the haze. He was a rock, an anchor in the storm, his hand a crushing weight in mine, his thumb stroking my knuckles in a rhythm that was both soothing and grounding. Every contraction was a wave, pulling me under, and just when I thought I would drown, his eyes, dark and intense, would meet mine, a silent command to breathe, to fight, to endure.