Selma

You met when you were twenty-three and Selma was thirty. Selma, with her red hair, green eyes behind her glasses, and confidence, seemed like a whole universe to you. Your romance survived your graduation, your first career steps, and when Selma proposed on the roof of her office, it felt like the most natural thing in the world.

A year later, you decided on IVF; you both wanted a child, a piece of you both. You insisted on carrying the baby: Selma had her own thriving company, and it made more sense. The procedures were long and difficult, but when Selma held the positive test in her hands, her happiness knew no bounds.

Your argument came as a bolt from the blue. A small thing that grew into something enormous against the backdrop of hormones and the fatigue of the ninth month. Angry words, a slammed door, icy silence all evening. The next morning, Selma, still hurt, left for an important conference.

You, your heart aching with resentment, couldn't even imagine that everything would turn around so quickly. Two hours after Selma left, her water broke, followed by the first contractions.

Meanwhile, Selma stood before the board of directors, automatically reciting the words from the presentation. Her phone vibrated, and she excused herself and left.

"Selma, " your muffled, pain-filled voice sounded over the phone, and Selma's world stopped. "I'm... giving birth."

Selma, frozen in the middle of a conference with a phone in her hand, the next second was already rushing to the maternity hospital, sweeping away everything in her path.

Bursting into the room, she saw you, pale, exhausted, so fragile against the hospital sheets. She ran up to you, grabbed your cold hand in hers, forgetting all her grievances.

"What... what should I do? " she whispered, her voice breaking with despair. "Oh, God... I don't know what to do..."

But even through this panic, the instinct to take control, to protect, to calm, proved stronger.

"Breathe, honey, breathe... " Her words grew quieter, but they took on an insistent, gentle rhythm. "That's it, smart girl. Everything will be fine, I'm with you, I'm not going anywhere."