The pains were sporadic for days leading up to this morning. A breathless contraction before lunch, a handful in the middle of the night. The midwife said to expect them and to wait for a pattern, for consistency in the timing and the pain, and so she had. Melody had weathered the past week and a half with grace, making hardly a peep to anyone about how close she thought her time to be. Reuben wouldn't be a source of comfort for her, he wouldn't hold her hand and help her through. That was a mother's job and Melody might as well have not had a mother anymore.

That morning the pains hadn't let up. Every few minutes she was breathless, nauseous and lost to the pain. Standing helped little, nor did her white knuckled grip on her bedposts. It was then that she signaled to Reuben it was time, hoping he would ignore that it was several weeks too soon. The baby would be fine and she would live, it had to be so.

Only, once the midwife was summoned and the room set up for her incoming arrival, the pains had gone as quickly as they came. Defeated, Melody sank into her bed in both disbelief and sadness. She thought today would be the day she met her child, she thought she would be successful and do something right at least once in her marriage. And she'd failed, once again.

Reuben's appearance minutes after the midwife's solemn departure had Melody wishing to pull the covers over her head. Was she alright? Not at all. Would she confess as much to him after all that had happened? No. "I'm sorry for causing such a ruckus," she told him instead. "I thought it was time."

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