“Ben… please.

What is in that envelope?”

He looked at her, really looked at her, for a long, agonizing moment.

And as he stared into her tear-filled, terrified eyes, the frantic, nervous energy that had consumed him since dawn finally broke.

He saw the panic rising in her chest, saw the way her hands were shaking where they rested on her belly, and a profound, visible wave of self-hatred washed over his face.

He hated himself for doing this to her.

He hated that his attempt to do something meaningful had terrified the woman he loved more than breathing.

He stepped closer, moving slowly now, approaching her the way one might approach a frightened animal.

He didn’t reach out to touch her, sensing she wouldn’t allow it until she had the truth.

“It’s for the hospital,” he said, his voice thick with an emotion she couldn’t quite place.

It wasn’t fear.

It sounded almost like… grief.

Or an overwhelming, crushing sort of love.

“That doesn’t answer the question,” Erin whispered, a single tear breaking free and tracking hot down her cheek.

Ben swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing.

“No,” he admitted softly, his gaze dropping to the floor between them.

“No, it doesn’t.”

She held his gaze, refusing to let him look away, refusing to let him retreat back into the safety of his secrets.

The air in the room felt incredibly thin.

“Then answer it.”

The silence stretched out, pulling taut like a wire about to snap.

Erin braced herself for the blow.

She braced herself for the bad news, for the revelation that would crack their perfect life wide open right at the finish line.

But instead of speaking, instead of explaining, Ben slowly turned away from her.

He walked back over to the leather overnight bag sitting on the carpet.

He dropped heavily to his knees.

And that was the exact moment Erin realized that whatever was inside that cream-colored envelope was about to completely shatter her understanding of the man she married.

It was about to change the entire hospital stay, the birth of their child, and the trajectory of their lives in a way she could never, ever have seen coming.

Ben’s fingers, normally so steady, were visibly trembling as he reached for the small brass zipper.

He pulled it back, the metallic teeth parting with a sharp hiss in the silent room.

He reached inside and slowly withdrew the thick parchment envelope.

He didn’t hand it to her.

He held it in both hands, staring down at it as if it were the heaviest thing in the world.

“I wanted to wait,” he said, his voice cracking, thick with unshed tears.

“I wanted to give this to you in the recovery room.

After it was over.

After he was here, and you were safe, and we were finally, actually a family.”