1089 He Planned a Cross-Country Trip With His Single Coworker to Escape Fatherhood—Until His Wallet Left Him Stranded and His Wife Went Into Labor Alone

I stared at the glowing screen. The contractions were coming closer together now, a deep, gripping pressure that made it difficult to focus on anything else, yet the text burned like a brand in my field of vision.

Liv, please pick up. We need to talk to you right now.

“Who is it?” Nora asked, noticing the tension in my face as she handed me a cup of ice chips.

“Chloe,” I said, handing her the phone. “Read it.”

Nora scanned the screen, her eyes narrowing into slits. “Do you want me to block her?”

“No,” I said, feeling a cold surge of clarity cut through the labor pains. “Put her on speaker.”

Nora tapped the screen and hit accept before placing the phone on the tray table beside the bed. For a second, all we could hear was rushing wind and the heavy idle of a large truck engine in the background.

“Liv?” Chloe’s voice came through the speaker, sounding breathless and surprisingly frayed around the edges. “Thank God. Is your phone working? Why aren’t you answering Jake?”

“Jake’s phone is off, Chloe,” I replied, my voice remarkably even despite the sharp cramp gripping my lower abdomen. “And you’re calling me from an unknown number. Why are you using a burner?”

A sharp intake of breath on the other end. “It’s... my phone died, I’m borrowing Cody’s old backup phone. Listen, Liv, we had a major problem about an hour outside of Denver. We need to turn around.”

I exchanged a quick, confused look with Nora. “What kind of problem? Did the truck break down?”

“No. It’s not the truck.” Chloe hesitated, her voice dropping lower, as if she were trying to speak without someone else hearing her. “Jake... Jake doesn’t have his wallet or his keys. He left them in his other jacket on the kitchen counter before we left. He didn't realize until we stopped for gas in Grand Junction.”

I blinked, processing the information. “His wallet and keys?”

“Yeah. He has no ID, no debit cards, nothing. And more importantly, Cody’s corporate card got flagged for suspicious activity because of the massive hotel charge in La Jolla, so we can’t even pull cash. We’re stuck at a rest stop in the middle of nowhere, and Jake is completely losing his mind.”

A heavy, ironic silence settled over the hospital room.

My husband—the man who had meticulously planned an elaborate cross-country escape to reclaim his youthful freedom and leave behind the burdens of impending fatherhood—was currently stranded at a mountain rest stop three hundred miles away because he had forgotten his wallet like an absentee teenager.

I felt a bubble of laughter rise in my chest, sharp and hysterical, before it settled into a cold, heavy truth.

“Why are you telling me this, Chloe?” I asked quietly. “Why didn't Cody call me?” Because Cody was probably too cowardly to face me, and Jake was too proud.

“Because Jake won’t let us drive back,” Chloe admitted, her voice trembling slightly. “He’s pacing back and forth by the guardrail, refusing to admit defeat. He thinks he can borrow cash from a stranger or hitchhike the rest of the way to California. Mason and Cody are at their wit's end, and frankly, I didn't sign up to babysit a grown man having a midlife crisis in a rest stop parking lot.”

I looked down at my hospital gown, then at the monitor showing our son’s steady heartbeat, and finally at Nora, who was watching me with wide, stunned eyes.

“Chloe,” I said clearly into the speakerphone. “You can tell Jake whatever you want, or you can leave him at the rest stop and keep driving to San Diego for all I care. But if you talk to him, tell him one thing.”

“What?” she whispered.

“Tell him I’m at St. Luke’s Medical Center. I’m currently in active labor. And his son is being born right now—with or without him.”