Chapter 15 - Too Early
The contractions were six minutes apart.
Then five.
Daniel moved through the house with frightening efficiency.
Hospital bag.
Phone chargers.
Insurance cards.
Water.
Shoes.
Anna sat on the edge of the bed breathing.
“This is too early.”
Daniel knelt in front of her.
“Look at me.”
She did.
“We don’t know that yet.”
“I’m thirty-five weeks.”
“I know.”
“The nursery isn’t finished.”
Daniel almost smiled.
“He won’t care.”
Anna laughed once.
Then another contraction came.
Her face tightened.
Daniel’s smile vanished.
Rachel’s friend came for the boys.
Caleb woke.
He saw the bags.
“Is the baby coming?”
Anna kissed his forehead.
“Maybe.”
Noah looked at Daniel.
“You’re going too?”
Daniel crouched.
“Yes.”
“You’re staying?”
“Yes.”
No hesitation.
No caveat.
Anna noticed.
The drive felt endless.
Daniel did not speed recklessly.
Anna appreciated that more than she expected.
At the hospital, they were moved quickly.
Monitor.
Blood pressure.
Questions.
More contractions.
The baby’s heartbeat remained strong.
Anna tried not to cry.
Daniel stood beside her.
“You’re okay.”
“Don’t tell me that.”
He stopped.
Anna breathed through another contraction.
“I hate when people say that when they don’t know.”
Daniel nodded.
“You’re right.”
He took her hand.
“I’m here.”
That worked.
Hours passed.
The contractions slowed.
Then strengthened again.
The doctor checked.
Two centimeters.
Anna’s face fell.
“What does that mean?”
“It means your body may be preparing.”
“Today?”
“Maybe.”
Daniel swallowed.
The doctor continued.
“We’re giving medication to support the baby if delivery happens early.”
Anna looked toward Daniel.
Fear filled his eyes.
She squeezed his hand.
“I’m here.”
Daniel almost laughed.
“That’s my line.”
“It works.”
By afternoon, the contractions stabilized.
Not gone.
But slower.
The doctor recommended keeping Anna overnight.
Daniel stayed.
Of course.
He ignored two work calls.
Anna noticed.
“You can answer.”
“No.”
“What if it’s important?”
“It’s Reeves.”
“He may need you.”
Daniel looked at her.
“You need me.”
Anna stared.
There it was again.
The ranking.
She sighed.
“Daniel.”
“What?”
“Answer your phone.”
He frowned.
“Why?”
“Because being here doesn’t mean pretending the rest of your life stopped.”
Daniel looked at the phone.
Anna continued.
“I don’t want you resenting the hospital because you refused every call.”
“I wouldn’t.”
“You might.”
He answered.
The call lasted three minutes.
A paperwork issue.
Nothing urgent.
Daniel ended it.
Anna smiled.
“See?”
“You were right.”
“Say it again.”
“No.”
She laughed.
That evening, Daniel sat beside the bed reading emails.
Anna dozed.
When she woke, he was still there.
“How long was I asleep?”
“An hour.”
“You should sleep.”
“I will.”
“Where?”
He pointed to the reclining chair.
Anna made a face.
“That thing?”
“I’ve slept in worse.”
“That is not the standard.”
He smiled.
A nurse entered.
She checked the monitor.
Everything looked stable.
After she left, Anna looked at Daniel.
“If the baby comes tonight.”
“Yes?”
“I’m scared.”
Daniel immediately put the laptop away.
“I know.”
“No.”
She looked at him.
“I need you to hear me.”
He nodded.
“I’m listening.”
Anna took a breath.
“I’m scared something will happen.”
Daniel’s jaw tightened.
He wanted to reassure.
She saw him stop himself.
Good.
Anna continued.
“I’m scared we’re moving too fast.”
“Okay.”
“I’m scared about Colorado.”
“Okay.”
“I’m scared about work.”
“Okay.”
“I’m scared we’re only being nice because everything exploded.”
Daniel looked at her.
“That one scares me too.”
Anna’s eyes filled.
He continued.
“What if crisis made us pay attention, but normal life makes us lazy again?”
“Yes.”
Daniel sat closer.
“Then we build habits before normal life comes back.”
“What habits?”
“Weekly check-in.”
Anna smiled faintly.
“You sound like an officer.”
“I am an officer.”
“Anything less terrible?”
He thought.
“No major decisions without both of us.”
“Good.”
“No protecting each other with missing information.”
“Very good.”
“No letting my mother manage anything.”
Anna laughed.
“Excellent.”
Daniel smiled.
“And if one of us is lonely.”
He paused.
“We say it.”
Anna’s eyes filled again.
“That one matters.”
“I know.”
A contraction began.
Daniel took her hand.
Anna breathed.
It passed.
She looked at him.
“Still here?”
Daniel squeezed her hand.
“Still here.”
The next morning, the contractions stopped.
The doctor discharged Anna with strict instructions.
Rest.
Hydration.
No unnecessary travel.
Daniel looked almost relieved by the travel restriction.
Anna raised an eyebrow.
“Don’t even think about it.”
“What?”
“You were about to say Denver is officially canceled.”
“I said nothing.”
“Your face did.”
They returned home.
The boys had made a sign.
WELCOME HOME MOM.
WELCOME HOME DAD.
WELCOME HOME BABY MAYBE LATER.
Anna laughed until she cried.
Daniel took a picture.
That night, he finally finished the crib.
It leaned slightly to the left.
Anna stared.
“Is it supposed to do that?”
Daniel looked offended.
“It’s tactical.”
“It’s crooked.”
“Flexible.”
“Daniel.”
“I’ll fix it.”
May you like
Anna smiled.
For the first time, she believed he would.
