"I brought soup just in case you changed your mind. Are the pains easing up at all?" He manfully kept the hopeful note out of his tone. "All the activity must have set them off. They seem to be getting farther apart, and they're shorter in duration. From all the research I've done, that means false labor." He felt like a man given a reprieve right before a death sentence, but he kept his features expressionless. He wanted her to count on him, and she couldn't do that if she knew he was petrified of delivering a baby. "Will you try to eat something?" He walked farther into the room and set the tray on the end table. "It might help." She flashed him a smile that told him he didn't know what he was talking about, but she picked up the bowl of soup and spoon, sank down in the middle of the bed, tailor fashion, her back against the headboard, and regarded him steadily."