Eloise was nine months pregnant, and the urge to prepare for the baby’s arrival was overwhelming her. But her husband, Tom, seemed oblivious to her concerns. Despite her constant reminders, the crib was still sitting in its unopened box in the nursery. Each day that passed without Tom assembling it made her feel more alone and frustrated.
Sitting in the nursery’s armchair, Eloise stared at the unopened crib box. The room was almost perfect—everything ready for the baby except for that one glaring reminder of Tom’s procrastination. Every time she asked him to put it together, he’d shrug and say, “Tomorrow.” But tomorrow never came, and with each passing day, Eloise felt more isolated.
To Tom, putting together the crib was just another task on his endless list of things to do. But to Eloise, it was so much more. It was a sign of their partnership, a shared effort to welcome their baby into the world. But as the crib remained untouched, Eloise began to wonder if she could really rely on Tom when it mattered most.
She’d had enough. If Tom wouldn’t do it, she would.
Determined, Eloise dragged the heavy box across the room. Her back protested with every step, and as the baby shifted inside her, a sharp pain reminded her that she shouldn’t be straining herself. But what choice did she have?
The instructions were confusing, but Eloise was determined. She struggled with the pieces, her hands trembling as she tried to fit everything together. Just as she was wrestling with a stubborn part, Tom walked in, looking as relaxed as ever. It was the same easygoing look that had once made her fall in love with him, but now it just made her angrier.
“Hey,” he said casually, glancing at the half-assembled crib. “Good job. Why’d you ask me to help if you could do it yourself?”
Eloise couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Did he really just say that? She wanted to scream, to make him understand how much he was letting her down. But she knew it wouldn’t make a difference. Instead, she turned back to the crib, tears welling up in her eyes.
Tom stood there for a moment, then shrugged and left the room, leaving Eloise to finish what should have been a shared task. When she finally finished, she sank to the floor, utterly defeated. This was supposed to be a moment they shared, something they could both look back on with fond memories. But instead, it had become another reminder of how alone she felt.
That night, as Eloise lay in bed next to Tom, her mind raced. It wasn’t just about the crib. It was about how he dismissed her concerns, acting like her strength and independence meant she didn’t need him. But she did need him—just not in the way he thought. Something had to change. This wasn’t just about building a crib; it was about building their life together.
The next morning, Eloise woke up with a plan. She wasn’t usually one for playing games, but after what had happened, she knew Tom needed a wake-up call.
“Tom,” she said, rubbing her back as if it ached more than it did. “I think I’m going to take it easy today. I’ve been so tired lately.”
Tom barely looked up from his phone. “Sure, babe. Take all the time you need. I’ve got everything under control.”
That was exactly what Eloise wanted to hear. “I invited a few friends and family over tomorrow for a little get-together before the baby comes. Could you handle the rest of the preparations? You know, get the cake, set up the decorations, make sure everything’s perfect?”
Tom waved his hand dismissively. “Yeah, no problem. How hard can it be?”
Oh, Tom, she thought. If only you knew.
Eloise spent the rest of the day lounging on the couch while Tom tinkered with his computer, completely unaware of the storm that was about to hit. The next morning, she stayed in bed longer than usual, letting Tom sleep in just enough to make him late.
When he finally woke up, Eloise handed him a list she’d prepared. It looked simple enough—just a few tasks to get the party ready. But she’d left out one crucial detail: there wasn’t nearly enough time to get everything done.
“Here’s the list,” Eloise said, stifling a yawn. “I’m just going to rest a bit more. You’ve got this, right?”
Tom scanned the list, still groggy. “Yeah, no worries. I’ll get it all done.”
Eloise bit back a smirk. This was going to be interesting.
An hour later, she heard Tom in the kitchen, cursing under his breath as he scrambled to complete the tasks. Cabinets slammed, and she heard him mutter something about the cake order. She stifled a laugh, imagining him panicking at the bakery, trying to charm his way into getting a last-minute cake.
This was exactly what she wanted him to experience—the sheer panic of realizing he was completely unprepared.
As the morning wore on, Tom’s stress levels became more obvious. He rushed in and out of the house, arms full of groceries, decorations half-dangling from his hands. At one point, he poked his head into the bedroom, his hair a mess.
“Babe, where did you say the streamers were?” he asked, his voice higher-pitched than usual.
“Check the hall closet,” Eloise mumbled, pretending to drift back to sleep.
She knew the streamers weren’t in the hall closet—they were buried in the basement behind a stack of old Christmas decorations. But Tom didn’t need to know that.
By the time the guests started arriving, Tom was a mess. The decorations were haphazardly placed, the food barely prepared, and Eloise could see the panic in his eyes as he tried to hold it all together.
Eloise watched from the couch, pretending to read a magazine as their friends and family filled the living room. The moment of truth came when Tom’s mother arrived. She gave him a once-over, her eyebrows knitting together.
“What’s going on here, Tom?” she asked, eyeing the half-hung decorations and the empty spot where the cake should’ve been.
Tom stammered, running a hand through his hair. “I, uh, I had everything under control, but… things got a little crazy.”
His mother sighed, shaking her head. “You should’ve known better.”
Tom looked like he wanted to disappear, and for a moment, Eloise almost felt sorry for him. But then she remembered the weeks of empty promises, the nights spent worrying, and the crib she’d assembled on her own.
No, he needed to feel this.
After the party, when the guests had left, Tom and Eloise sat down at the kitchen table. He looked drained, defeated. She let the silence stretch until he finally spoke.
“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I didn’t realize how much I was leaving on your shoulders. I thought I was helping, but I wasn’t… I wasn’t there like I should’ve been.”
Eloise nodded, a lump forming in her throat. “Tom, I need to know I can rely on you. Not just for the big things, but for everything. I can’t do this alone, and I shouldn’t have to.”
Tom reached across the table, taking her hand. “I promise, I’ll do better. I’ll be there. I’ll change.”
Eloise searched his eyes, seeing the sincerity in them. “Okay,” she said finally. “But this is your chance, Tom. Don’t waste it.”
