"Richard, the twins are born"

**Richard's POV**

The party was in full swing, a success in every sense. Important guests moved through the Anderson mansion, laughing, conversing, and admiring the opulence that Vanessa had meticulously planned. She was by my side, radiant and confident, playing the role of hostess with a perfection I couldn't help but admire. Everything was going according to plan, but deep down, I felt a slight unease gnawing at me.

Since I saw Charlotte earlier in the evening, something seemed off. There was a tension in her movements, a rigidity that didn't match the façade of calm she tried to maintain. Despite all the distractions around me, my mind kept returning to her, to that moment in the hallway when I sensed something was wrong. Her face had been pale, her eyes clouded with something I couldn't quite place. Fear? Pain? I didn't know, but it left me unsettled, a gnawing doubt that I couldn’t shake off.

But before I could act on that doubt, Vanessa was at my side, guiding me to the next conversation, the next group of guests. She knew exactly how to keep my attention, how to involve me in the web of commitments she had meticulously woven over the past few months. She was the perfect hostess, graceful and charming, effortlessly drawing everyone into her orbit. And I, in my attempt to keep everything under control, allowed myself to be led, even as a voice in the back of my mind screamed that something was wrong.

Then the news arrived.

One of the staff approached, his expression serious, and whispered in my ear that Charlotte had been taken to the hospital. The twins were on their way. My heart dropped into my stomach, and for a brief moment, everything else faded away. All that mattered was getting to the hospital, being by her side, seeing my children be born. I could picture it so clearly—holding her hand, offering whatever comfort I could as she brought our children into the world.

But before I could make a move, Vanessa was there, gripping my arm firmly, her smile fading to something more calculating. "Richard," she said softly, her voice smooth but carrying a weight of authority that left little room for argument, "you can't just leave the party. Your guests are here, and they're expecting you to be present. This event is crucial for your business, for your image. Charlotte will be fine; she's surrounded by doctors who know what they’re doing. Your mother can go to the hospital and keep us updated."

I hesitated, torn between the responsibility I felt towards the party—towards maintaining the image Vanessa had so carefully crafted—and the overwhelming desire to be with Charlotte and our children. It was a battle between duty and emotion, between the life I had been carefully building and the reality of the life I had with Charlotte.

Vanessa’s grip on my arm tightened slightly, a subtle reminder of everything that was at stake. “You’ve worked too hard to let this slip now, Richard. Think of everything we’ve built together. Your children will be fine, you’ll see. Trust me.” Her voice was honeyed, persuasive, but there was a steely edge beneath it, a certainty that made my chest tighten.

Finally, I caved in, feeling an overwhelming weight in my chest. Nodding, I called over one of the staff and instructed him to arrange everything for my mother to go to the hospital. She could be there, ensure that Charlotte and the twins were taken care of, while I stayed here, doing what was expected of me. It felt like the responsible decision, the one that would ensure everything stayed in balance. Yet, as I turned back to the party, a cold dread settled deep within me.

As the night dragged on, my thoughts were a chaotic swirl. On the outside, I maintained the mask of indifference, shaking hands, making small talk, but inside, I was slowly unraveling. I should have been at the hospital, holding Charlotte’s hand, witnessing the birth of my children. Instead, I was here, trapped in a world of shallow smiles and empty conversations, all the while knowing that I was missing one of the most important moments of my life.

Vanessa kept close to me, her presence a constant reminder of the choice I had made. She was attentive, ensuring everything ran smoothly, that the guests were happy, that I appeared every bit the successful, composed man they expected me to be. She would occasionally lean in to whisper something in my ear, guiding me through the night with a practiced ease. But each time she did, it only heightened the sense of distance I felt from the reality of my situation.

I caught glimpses of the other guests’ expressions—curious glances, subtle whispers. They knew who I was, who Charlotte was. To them, she was still my wife, the mother of my children. But here I was, standing beside Vanessa, a woman who had increasingly taken Charlotte's place in our home, in my life. The dissonance was palpable, and I could feel their silent judgments, even if no one dared to voice them.

Hours passed before the phone finally rang. I excused myself from yet another tedious conversation and answered, my heart pounding in my chest. It was my mother. Her voice was calm, yet there was an edge of exhaustion to it that made my breath catch.

"Richard, the twins are born," she said, her voice carrying the weight of the moment. "They're healthy, both of them. Charlotte did well. She's resting now."

The relief that washed over me was so intense that it almost brought me to my knees. My children were born, and they were safe. But that relief was quickly followed by a sharp pang of regret. I hadn’t been there. I had missed the moment they took their first breaths, the moment Charlotte needed me the most. All because I had let Vanessa convince me to stay.

“Thank you, Mother,” I replied, trying to keep my voice steady, though I could feel the emotion threatening to break through. “I’ll go to the hospital as soon as I can.”

But deep down, I knew something had shifted irreparably. I had made my choice, and now I had to live with the consequences. I glanced at Vanessa, who was smiling up at me with that same satisfied expression she’d worn all evening. She believed she had won, that she had solidified her place beside me, in my life.

And perhaps she had.

But as the party continued, and the hours ticked by, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had lost something precious, something that no amount of power, wealth, or control could ever replace. I was standing in a room full of people, yet I had never felt more alone. My children were out there, in the world, and I wasn’t with them. Charlotte had brought them into this world, and I wasn’t there to support her, to witness the miracle of their birth.

As the night drew to a close and the last guests finally left, I found myself standing in the now-empty ballroom, staring at the remnants of the evening. Vanessa approached, her hand resting lightly on my arm. “You did the right thing, Richard,” she said softly, her voice smooth as silk. “Everything went perfectly.”