Eliot woke up feeling groggy and disoriented. He tried to stretch but doing so gave him no relief from the low pain that filled his body. He was so over being pregnant already. Reaching over to his nightstand, he grabbed his cell phone to see if any new messages had arrived while he slept. Darcy had called and told him the whole debacle—in lurid detail—and neither of them were sure whether they should laugh or cry.

It was surprising how quickly he’d become used to Darcy’s body in his bed. Cuddling wasn’t always comfortable at this late stage in the pregnancy, but he liked knowing he was near. He was scheduled to fly back this evening, though, so it wouldn’t be long.

Groaning with the sudden need to relieve himself, Eliot rolled to his side and got out of bed. Done with the bathroom, he waddled into the kitchen to make himself some breakfast. Another dull pain in the center of his back made him wish he could take Advil or Tylenol. “Being pregnant seriously sucks.”

Eliot cooked himself a sausage and spinach omelette with cheddar cheese on top. He moved to take the first delicious steaming bite when his phone pinged from the bedroom. The pure joy of that first bite slightly ruined, Eliot got up and went to get the phone, wishing he’d thought to carry it with him.

On the lock screen he saw a series of texts from Jane.

Bing asked me to marry him! was the first message, followed by a stream of diamond ring and champagne emojis. This was followed by a picture of Jane’s hand. The diamond was ridiculously large and not at all to Eliot’s tastes.

I said yes!!!!

“Well, duh,” Eliot muttered with a smile.

He texted back warm wishes and love then set his phone down beside his breakfast and tried to eat. Unfortunately his appetite was gone. Eliot pushed the plate of uneaten food away and stood. He winced, arching his back to ease the stab of pain. He looked down at his stomach. “You know what kid, you’re supposed to be in there another week or so and, if it’s all the same to you, I vote sooner rather than later.”

Eliot waddled toward the couch, having barely sat down when his doorbell rang. He glared at the door, and with a groan, hoisted himself back to his feet.

The bell rang again as Eliot got there. “Hold on a freaking minute already. It’s early.” He looked through the peephole and stopped breathing.

Eliot threw open the door. There, leaning against the frame, was a very disheveled, very sexy Darcy. He still wore his wedding suit, tie undone and sleeves rolled up, the jacket slung over a shoulder. Even his hair seemed to stand out about his face as if he’d slept wrong and not bothered to comb it.

“What are you doing here? I thought your flight was tonight.”

Darcy pulled Eliot into his arms and kissed him as though they hadn’t seen each other in years instead of only days. “I couldn’t bear another moment without you,” he said, his voice husky with lack of sleep. He dropped his coat on the floor on top of a duffel bag and pile of shoes and fell to his knees, his face on level with Eliot’s belly. “Hello, baby,” he said in the softest, gentlest voice Eliot had ever heard. “Your daddy missed you.”

Eliot ran his hands through Darcy’s hair.

“Is it okay to refer to myself as Daddy?” Darcy asked suddenly. “If you want to be Daddy, I’m more than happy to find another name—”

Eliot put a finger over Darcy’s lips. “I think you make an excellent Daddy. I see myself as more of a Papa, anyway.”

They shared a pair of goofy, delighted smiles and then Eliot staggered backward, bracing himself against the door frame, his hand going to his lower back.

Eliot leaned back against the door, the pain in his back becoming almost unbearable.

“What’s wrong?” Darcy said immediately. “Do I need to call a doctor?”

“Just… wait…” Eliot grunted.

“What the hell was that? Was that a kick?” Darcy asked, eyes on Eliot’s stomach.

“No,” Eliot panted the word. “I’m pretty sure that means I'm in labor.”

Darcy’s tired, travel worn face with its day of stubble went white. "Now? You're having the baby now?”

“Glad you made it in time.” Eliot tried to chuckle, ending up sucking air instead.

Darcy pushed past Eliot, head twitching left and right. “Where’s your hospital bag?”

Eliot tried to point at the corner where his hospital bag sat packed and ready, but the pain was too much. He collapsed against the door with a groan, thinking he was about to pass out.