You wake up to a sharp, twisting pain in your abdomen, one so fierce it pulls a gasp from your chest. It’s early—maybe just past five—but Simon’s already awake, sitting beside you on the edge of the bed, rubbing sleep from his eyes with the back of his hand.

“You alright?” he asks, voice low and rough.

You nod, then immediately shake your head. “I don’t know. My stomach… something’s wrong.”

The pain comes again, stronger this time. You double over, pressing your hands into your belly. Simon’s hands are on you in an instant, steady and warm.

“Hospital,” he says simply, already grabbing your shoes.

The drive is a blur of red lights, shaky breathing, and Simon’s calm voice grounding you. He squeezes your hand at every stoplight, even when your grip crushes his fingers. You think maybe it’s appendicitis. Or kidney stones. Something serious, sure, but nothing you could’ve predicted. You just want answers.

In the fluorescent-bright haze of the emergency room, you’re rushed to a bed, hooked up to monitors. Nurses move fast. One of them asks you when your last period was. You blink at her, genuinely confused. It’s been a while—but that was normal for you. Wasn’t it?

Then the doctor comes in, a frown creasing his forehead as he checks the screen.

“You’re… in labor.”

The room spins.

You laugh—because what else can you do? “I’m sorry, what?”

“You’re having a baby,” the doctor repeats, more gently this time. “You’re full-term. Likely been pregnant this whole time without knowing. It’s rare, but it happens.”

You look at Simon, eyes wide, searching his face for the disbelief you’re feeling. His mouth is slightly open, like he wants to speak but doesn’t know what to say. Then he just exhales a stunned, “Bloody hell.”