Two years later...

"Babe!" Philip heard his wife's voice from upstairs. He ignored it, suspecting she'd make excuses for the laundry.

"Babe!"

Oh, oh, her voice was getting louder—and nearer.

He loved his wife like hell, but sometimes she just hit a special nerve especially when he was trying to review reports and busy talking business.

"Philip!"

Being married to Cassandra for more than two years now told him he'd be in trouble if she called him by his name the second time.

"Coming..." he muttered, sighing as he stood up from his chair. For the past months, his patience was a little bit longer because he was trying to understand her condition and he was starting to wonder if he could stretch it just a bit more.

His office door burst open and his wife walked in, glaring at him.

He acted like he never heard her. "Babe, you're glaring at me like a tiger. It's not good for pregnant women to brood."

He saw her squint her eyes at him, "I called you like three times already."

"I didn't hear," he lied. He also learned from her that white lies weren't that bad. Well, sometimes. "Why? What's wrong?"

He noticed that her face was a little different, like she was in pain. "My water just broke," she said, and he knew she was just trying to be calm, and she was doing a good job at it. He, on the other hand, couldn't. He jumped and ran toward her, his hands held out as if she'd fall over any time soon.

It seemed that all those days of training on how to help your wife undergo labor suddenly flew out the window. "What do we do? I thought you're not due until next week!" He looked down at the big bulge in front of his wife. Their child was in there and was about ready to come out.

"Oh, okay, so you want to wait until next week? Let's reschedule, shall we?" she asked sarcastically, breathing through her teeth. "You better get me to the hospital now or I swear I'm gonna kill you."

He panicked and almost ran to the door when he remembered he had to bring his wife. He turned around and walked back to her and did the only thing that was in his mind. He swept her off her feet and carried her out the door and to the car.

"The bag, where's the bag?" she asked.

"It's already in the car," he answered.

"Then let's go!" she screamed once again.

"Don't yell, babe," he tried to tell her gently as he strapped the seatbelt over her.

"Oh God, it hurts. I hate you for this..."

"What?" he asked incredulously.

"I'm divorcing you if you don't get me to the hospital now!"

"Okay!" he shut the door and circled around the car. "God!" he cried in frustration before opening the driver's side.

If he knew it would be this difficult, he would not have agreed to have a baby. They were doing great for the past two years. They could have always borrowed Willie who was now around four and already a pain in the ass and Chanty would gladly just say yes.

He drove as fast as he could. He cringed every time he heard his wife whimper in pain. He couldn't stand to see her that way, and when he saw a tear roll down her cheek, he almost cursed.

His greatest weakness was her tears. Just like that day in the airport when she was signing those divorce papers, just like that night when she told him about her past, and that day when he found her on that island after being stuck there for half a day.

Her tears affected him greatly because she was the kind who was strong enough to hide them. She would not shed those precious liquid if she could help it.

*****

They reached the hospital in no time and Philip completely ignored the guard's shouts about his car which he left in the driveway. He just threw his keys at the guy and ran with the wheelchair that a nurse was pushing, carrying his wife.

"It's gonna be alright, babe. I'm here."

"You better," Cassandra said in between breaths. "Oh God, this is your entire fault."

Philip ignored his wife's last remark, too busy worrying about the pain she was going through—and about to go through. "Do an epidural," he ordered the doctor.

"No epidural. I can do this without that," Cassandra disagreed stubbornly.

"You're in pain." He turned to the doctor who looked confused. "Do it."

"But—" the doctor started.

"Don't listen to him!" Cassandra breathed out, grunting in pain. Philip hated seeing and hearing her that way.

"Dr. Peterson will be here any moment. You two can talk to her about it," the doctor finally found his voice.

"I'm not going through an epidural and that's it!"

Philip tried to keep his cool. He brushed his hand through his dark brown hair in frustration. "You're impossible," he muttered under his breath.

"What?"

"Nothing," he answered. "I said we'll do whatever you want."

*****

Cassandra wasn't fully dilated yet, so they still had to wait for a few more hours which was difficult for Philip. He couldn't stay still, but he held her hand whenever she suffered a contraction.

"I bet it's a boy," he tried to distract her by engaging into a conversation. They chose not to be told about the baby's sex so they would have a big surprise.

"I want a girl," Cassandra smiled faintly for the first time.

Philip knew having two Cassandra would be difficult to deal with, but it would be worth it. Anything Cassandra gave him would be as full of life.

Though his practical mind told him she'd be perfectly fine, he couldn't help but pray despite himself for her to be okay. He couldn't lose her now when everything in his life was right.

If he looked back now, he couldn't imagine being back to those days of being by himself. Those days when she left after he gave her the divorce papers were mostly spent in frustrations. And that day when she returned them into pieces made into a collage of a tent was the most gratifying of all. He never thought that his then transient wife would have wanted to be with him and as always, she surprised him by declaring something he had been longing for in her own artistic, proud way.

Yes, those days he thought he liked—being by himself—was peace and quiet, but when he took Cassandra for his wife, he had something else. He had what they called a beautiful mess.

*****

Hours later, Jean Philip Strindberg greeted the world with a sharp cry. His little face was more than enough to ease both his parent's pain—Cassandra's labor ones and Philip's stinging hand his wife had been gripping through the process.

Philip cradled his son with an overwhelming heart and took him close to his wife for her to see. He couldn't help the pooling of tears in his eyes as he looked at mother and son. He kissed his wife's flushed cheek and said, "You did great, babe. I'm so proud of you. Thank you. You lost the bet though. I told you it is going to be a boy," he grinned.

"Yeah," she nodded, looking at their son with love in her eyes, and when she looked up to him, that loving look turned to something different and intense but pretty much the same. And Philip knew she saw the same in his. "And I love you too," she whispered.

That moment, Philip's chest wanted to burst. They might not have the baby girl she wanted, but they had a son who would love her as much as he loved her.

It would be one hell of a ride, but he knew he and his son would have the time of their lives because Cassandra Anders Strindberg was and would remain to be one hell of an adventure.

******