By my eighth month, I was helping him get dressed. Sometimes, on his way to the bathroom, he would stop in the hallway and pretend to be looking at a photograph hanging on the wall.
But I knew the truth.
He simply couldn’t catch his breath.
Then something strange began happening.
Jake started asking to speak to Dr. Daniel alone.
The first time, I didn’t think much of it.
The second time, I became worried.
By the third time, I finally asked him.
“What do you two keep talking about?”
Jake took my hand.
“There’s something I need to arrange.”
“What?”
He looked at me for a long moment.
“Promise me you won’t ask right now. You’ll understand later.”
It was completely unlike him.
We had never kept secrets from each other.
But that time, he was so serious that I stayed quiet.
Three weeks later, Jake died in the hospital while holding my hand.
