It was a Friday night when I walked into Bella\u2019s, the little Italian restaurant just off Main Street. The place was buzzing, the kind of cozy spot where you couldn\u2019t help but overhear conversations from the next table.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
That\u2019s when I saw him\u2014my boss, Mr. Daniels. He was seated at a corner table, his wife across from him, candles flickering between them. They looked like a couple out of a magazine\u2014perfect posture, polite smiles, the picture of elegance.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I hesitated. Usually, I wouldn\u2019t intrude, but the day before, at the office, Mr. Daniels had made an announcement that had everyone clapping and cheering.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He was going to be a father.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He had stood tall, hands in his pockets, beaming like a man with the world at his feet. We congratulated him, slapped him on the back, even joked about baby names. It was the happiest I\u2019d ever seen him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
So when I spotted him at Bella\u2019s, I thought it would be kind to extend the celebration.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I walked over, smiling warmly. \u201cMr. Daniels! Good to see you. I just wanted to say congratulations again\u2014and congratulations to you too, Mrs. Daniels.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
His wife\u2019s expression shifted instantly. The warmth drained from her face. She blinked at me as though I\u2019d just spoken another language. Her hand, resting on her wine glass, trembled slightly.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cOh,\u201d she said softly, her voice tight. \u201cI\u2026 I don\u2019t understand.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
That\u2019s when I knew something was wrong.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mr. Daniels\u2019 face darkened. He stood quickly, nearly knocking over his chair, and gripped my arm hard enough to hurt. His smile was gone, replaced with an urgency that sent a chill down my spine.<\/p>\n\n\n\n