Stella walked out of the kitchen carrying a plate of freshly cut watermelon. Crystal-clear droplets slid down the glistening fruit.

She placed the tray on the coffee table and speared a piece with a silver fork, handing it to Jenna.

"Did your husband agree?"

"He said yes." Jenna took the watermelon. "You can stay in my brother's room tonight. He and Ryan will stay at a hotel for a few days."

"Perfect." Stella's eyes curved into crescents.

Three days later, at four in the afternoon, Jenna was lounging on the couch watching TV when a sharp pain gripped her abdomen.

The contractions came in steady waves, rhythmic but not unbearable.

She immediately recognized the signs of labor.

Calmly picking up her phone, Jenna started timing them. The pains came every half hour, lasting less than thirty seconds each.

"Stella, grab my hospital bag," she called toward the bedroom. "I think I'm having contractions."

"What? You're in labor?" Stella rushed out in a panic.

"It's still early. We'll know it's time when they're a few minutes apart." Jenna remained composed. "Just get everything ready first."

Flustered, Stella dragged out the pre-packed hospital bag and set it by the door.

"Should we go to the hospital now? Wait—we need to call Ethan first!"

Jenna nodded and dialed Ethan's number. In the middle of a meeting, Ethan immediately excused himself and bolted from the office.

By the time Ethan arrived home, Jenna was reclining on the couch, counting the intervals between contractions.

He rushed to her side in three quick strides, gripping her hand tightly. His voice trembled slightly. "Is the pain bad?"

"Manageable. The gaps are still long." Jenna spoke softly. "But we should head to the hospital now."

"Can you walk?"

"Carry me."

Without hesitation, Ethan scooped her up in his arms and turned to Stella. "Bring the hospital bag."

Their car waited at the community entrance. Ethan carefully settled Jenna into the backseat, only starting the engine after Stella climbed in.

"How are you feeling now?" He glanced at her through the rearview mirror, concern etched on his face.

"I can handle it." Jenna bit her lip.

Ethan tightened his grip on the steering wheel, torn between driving cautiously and wishing he could teleport to the hospital.

Thirty minutes later, they finally pulled into the hospital parking lot.

Ethan carried Jenna straight to the ninth-floor maternity ward. Nurses sprang into action upon seeing them, arranging an immediate examination.

After a cervical check, the doctor informed them, "Only one centimeter dilated. You've got at least eight or nine hours to go. Try walking around a bit."

For safety, the doctor ordered fetal monitoring, which showed everything was normal.

"A standard room is fine," Jenna said.

"VIP suite." Ethan cut in firmly, leaving no room for argument.

The doctor nodded and filled out the admission forms for the VIP ward.