“What?”
“I think the baby’s coming.”
There was a sudden rustling sound on the phone.
“I’m coming inside right now,” he said. “Don’t move.”
A minute later, the front door burst open.
Mark rushed in, looking both worried and determined.
“Ambulance is already on the way,” he said. “Daniel told me where the spare key was.”
I nodded weakly, gripping my belly.
“Is he… is he okay?”
“He’s awake now,” Mark said gently. “And the first thing he asked was if you were safe.”
My chest tightened.
For the first time in weeks, I felt something other than fear.
Hope.
Because suddenly I understood something Daniel had never known how to say out loud.
He hadn’t left because he stopped loving us.
He left because he loved us so much… he was terrified of failing us.
And somewhere across town, in a hospital bed, the man who thought he wasn’t enough was about to become a father.
And he had no idea that the moment he’d been working himself to exhaustion for… had already begun.
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