3.

Addy looked enchanting that evening.  How could she not?  She laid restless on that bed as the sweat ran down her face and puddled on the white blankets.  Her hands made trenches in the mattress where she was grasping desperately for leverage.  The only medicine now was time.

Thomas was a mess.  He ran in.  He ran out.  He would courageously burst through the doors, see his young wife laying there writhing in glorious agony, and retreat to the halls.  It was time to take control.  It was his time to cast aside all of his doubt and fears.  It was time.

To this day, Addy does not remember much.  It is fragments of a story lost in her memory.  She remembers Thomas grabbing her hand and whispering in her ear.  She remembers the doctor’s face as he begged her to push.  She remembers the heat and the cool ice that Thomas placed on her lips. Other than that it’s all a blur.

To this day, Thomas has not forgotten a single detail.  He remembers his fears.  He remembers the words his father gave to him as they waited on the doctors to arrive.  He remembers going in every room at that hospital trying to find ice that would relieve his bride’s exhaustion and thirst. But most of all, Thomas remembers his Addy.

If you ask Addy, she’ll tell you that Thomas was her hero that night.  But if you ask Thomas about that night, he’ll tell you about Addy and how she was enchanting.