My doctor explained that carrying triplets made my pregnancy high-risk. My blood pressure had risen, and there were signs that my body was struggling.
“You need bed rest immediately,” she told me. “No flights, no long journeys, and certainly no four-month cruise.”
I looked at Daniel.
I expected disappointment. I expected him to sigh, cancel the trip, and ask what he needed to do to help me.
Instead, he stared at the floor.
On the drive home, he barely spoke.
That evening, I found his suitcase open on our bed.
“You’re still packing?” I asked.
Daniel folded a shirt without looking at me.
“The ticket is nontransferable.”
“I know, but the doctor said—”
“She said you can’t go. She didn’t say I can’t.”
For a moment, I thought I had misunderstood him.
“You’re talking about leaving me alone for four months while I’m carrying triplets.”
“My mother can check on you.”
“Your mother lives three hours away.”
“Then your sister can help.”
“My sister has two children and a full-time job.”
Daniel exhaled sharply.
“Helen, a chance like this comes once in a lifetime.”
I placed a hand over my stomach.
“So does this.”
His expression hardened.
“I worked for this prize. Everyone at the office knows I won. What am I supposed to do—stay home and watch you sleep?”
His words hurt more than I wanted him to know.
Still, I convinced myself that he was frightened. Some people responded to fear by becoming distant. Perhaps he needed time to understand the enormous responsibility ahead of us.
So when he zipped his suitcase, I smiled through my tears.
“Send me pictures,” I whispered.
He kissed my forehead as though I were a child.
“I’ll call every day.”
Four Months of Silence
During the first week, Daniel called several times.
He showed me his cabin, the pool deck, and the endless blue ocean beyond his balcony. He told me about the food, the entertainment, and the people he had met.
By the second week, the calls became shorter.
By the third, they stopped.
He still posted photographs online.
Daniel smiling beside a fountain in Barcelona.
Daniel standing on a beach in Greece.
Daniel holding a glass beneath strings of golden lights.
Sometimes I noticed the same woman in the background.
She was tall, with dark hair and elegant clothes. At first, I assumed she was another passenger. Cruise travelers often formed groups, and it wasn’t unusual to see the same people together in several photographs.
But then I saw her sitting beside him at dinner.
A week later, she was standing close enough for her shoulder to touch his.
When I asked Daniel who she was, he replied six hours later.
“Just a friend. Stop worrying.”
Meanwhile, my pregnancy became more difficult.
My sister, Rachel, brought groceries and prepared meals. Our neighbor, Mrs. Alvarez, checked on me every morning. I learned to accept help because I had no other choice.
At thirty-two weeks, I woke in the middle of the night with severe pain.
Rachel drove me to the hospital.
