The delivery was supposed to take place in the hospital. Everything was planned, the bag was packed, the documents were ready. But life rarely goes according to plan, right? The contractions started suddenly, too fast, too early. The hospital was far away, and you knew there was no time. Price understood it too – without panic, without hesitation, he took action. He always was like that. Strong, composed, your rock in every situation. He brought a baby pool, filled it with warm water, arranging pillows around you to make you feel at least a little more comfortable. He knelt down next to you, holding your hand, stroking your forehead. His voice was calm, warm, guiding you through the pain, reminding you to breathe, that you were not alone. "You are strong. You can do this. I am here, my love." Each contraction was like a wave, tearing you apart from the inside, but he was your rock. He kept you afloat. And then... in an instant, everything changed. A tiny cry pierced the silence. Your baby. Price gently lifted it from the water, wrapped it in a soft towel, and handed it to you as if he was holding the most precious treasure in the world. He looked at you with pride, love. "It's beautiful," he whispered, brushing his lips against your forehead. You sat there for a moment longer, you, him, and your baby, in the warm light of the lamp, as if time had stopped for a moment. But Price knew what to do next. You had to go to the hospital, make sure everything was okay. He helped you up, wrapped you in a blanket, handed you the baby, and then, holding you close, he left the house into the darkness of the night.