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I paused. What did she mean by that? Richard had never been unfaithful.

“You should never assume you know everything about a man.”

Before I could respond, she gave me that same smile.

“It was nice meeting you.” Then she moved away into the crowd.

I felt unsettled as I watched her go. The conversation had turned strange so suddenly. I told myself it was nothing. Just gala small talk from someone who didn’t know me. Still, her words lingered.

The live band began playing “I Put a Spell on You.”

Richard appeared at my side almost immediately. “Dance with me.”

“No I’m huge,” I protested, laughing.

“You’re gorgeous.”

He led me onto the dance floor anyway. One hand supported my lower back with care. The other held mine. We moved slowly, my belly pressed between us. I rested my head against his chest and felt safe. Completely, perfectly safe. This was the happiest I'd ever been, I thought. The music wrapped around us. The lights sparkled. For a few precious minutes, everything felt right.

When I glanced up again, I saw Maggie standing in the crowd. She was alone, watching us. I looked away quickly and pressed closer to Richard.

“I met one of your assistants.”

Richard’s expression didn’t change. “Which one?”

“Maggie.”

He paused. “Oh you did?”

“Yes, she was nice but she said something strange.”

He smoothly changed the subject, steering the conversation toward lighter topics. I let it go. There was no reason to press.

The song ended. As we walked off the dance floor, we continued mingling for a while longer. Richard kept a close eye on me, making sure I had water and a chance to sit when the pressure in my back grew too intense. The evening felt magical despite my growing fatigue, the kind of night I wanted to remember forever.

Then a sharp contraction gripped me mid-conversation with another couple. I froze, gripping Richard’s arm tightly as the pain radiated through my lower back and wrapped around my belly. It stole my breath for several long seconds. Richard’s attention snapped to me instantly, his hand steady on my waist.

“Sam?”

I nodded, trying to breathe through it. “Just another contraction. They’ve been getting stronger.”

Another one followed soon after, deeper and more intense. I winced, leaning into him. The discomfort built quickly, wave after wave, making it hard to focus on anything else.

Richard quickly excused us from the conversation and kept one hand against my back as he led me toward the exit. He moved ahead of me, clearing a path through the guests as they stepped aside.

Outside, he helped me into the Jaguar and reclined the passenger seat so I could lean back. Then he hurried around to the driver’s side and pulled away from the house.

The hospital felt farther away than I remembered. Every curve and bump made the pain worse. I gripped the door handle and breathed the way we had practiced in class.

Richard kept talking to me as he drove. “You’re doing great. Keep breathing. I’m right here, and we’re almost there.”

By the time we reached the hospital entrance my contractions were coming every few minutes. The staff met us at the door with a wheelchair. Richard stayed right beside me as they wheeled me inside, his hand never leaving mine.

The bright lights and sterile smells blurred together as nurses checked me in quickly. They moved us to a private labor and delivery room, dimming the lights at Richard’s request and helping me change into a gown. Monitors were strapped around my belly, tracking the baby’s heartbeat alongside my own.

The hours that followed blurred into a long, intense rhythm of pain and endurance. I lay on the bed, gripping the rails or Richard’s hand through the worst of it. Sweat beaded on my forehead. My body worked harder than it ever had, each contraction building like a tide that crashed over me and then receded, leaving me trembling and exhausted.

Richard remained a constant presence. He wiped my face with cool cloths, held ice chips to my lips, and whispered encouragement during the peaks.