She Had Made Up Her Mind
“Why aren’t you ready yet?” Tanya stood in the doorway, her irritation barely contained. “Have you forgotten what day it is?”
“What’s so special about today?” Ilya didn’t even glance away from the telly, lazily flipping through channels. “Are we supposed to go somewhere again?”
“We’re meant to be at the maternity ward! Lena’s had her baby—you heard it yourself. She’s the first in our circle to become a mother. We ought to congratulate her!”
“Congratulate her on what?” The man scoffed, still clicking the remote. “On sleepless nights? On a screaming infant? On losing control of her own life? Doesn’t strike me as much of a celebration.”
“What on earth are you saying? You were the one who wanted children! You used to talk about how you longed for little feet running around the house. How you dreamed of tiny arms wrapped around your neck. You said you wanted at least three! Or was that just my imagination?”
“Yes, I said it. But come on, it sounds good, doesn’t it? Women love that sort of thing. And look—you melted right into it,” Ilya replied coolly.
Tanya sank onto the sofa, her face frozen in shock.
“Well, I don’t want kids. What’s the big deal? Most blokes don’t. Have you ever considered just living for yourself? Travel, hobbies, freedom… But no, with you lot it’s always babies, family, nappies.”
“Will you at least take me?” Her voice was icy. She couldn’t hide the hurt—not today, of all days, when she’d planned to share the most important news of her life.
“What, they can’t manage without us? I can’t stand all that fussing and cooing and crying. You go on your own. Might make you think twice about having any.”
Without another word, Tanya retreated to the bedroom. A quarter of an hour later, she emerged in a sleek, elegant outfit. She’d already called a cab—thank heavens she wouldn’t have to endure Ilya’s dismal comments.
And to think, she had been so close to happiness… Just this morning, she’d seen those two little lines on the test. She’d wanted to give him the news tonight. But now… now she wasn’t sure he even deserved to know.
Tanya had always craved stability. She’d started working while still at university, graduated with honours, and now had a brilliant career, a steady income, and her own flat—a gift from her parents. She’d done everything right. And she was ready for a child. But the man she’d believed would be the father had turned out to be nothing more than a skilled actor.
Ilya had seemed mature, dependable, serious. His age, his words, his opinions—all had radiated assurance. Only today had he finally dropped the act.
“I’ve made up my mind,” she whispered into the emptiness of the car. The taxi driver, an older man with a quiet demeanour, glanced at her appraisingly before saying, unexpected warmth in his voice, “Congratulations.”
Tanya flustered. She thanked him and rushed inside. There, glowing with joy, stood Lena, cradling a tiny bundle. The baby was already in his father’s arms, and the air was thick with love.
“Congratulations, darling!” Tanya hugged her friend. “What’s his name?”
“Edward, after my dad. I want you to be his godmother.”
“I’d be honoured,” Tanya smiled, though her heart ached. Everything she had wanted was right there before her—but not hers to hold.
“Is everything all right?” Lena murmured once they had a moment alone.
“Ilya’s been lying all this time. He doesn’t want children. He claimed he did. And the worst part—I’m pregnant. I found out this morning. Now… now I have to choose.”
“Tanya, men are a dime a dozen. But the chance to be a mother? That’s rare. My sister, for one, can’t have children. She wept with happiness and grief when she found out I was expecting. You mustn’t give up on what you truly want.”
“I know. If he won’t change his mind, I’ll leave. My parents would be over the moon to be grandparents.”
Ilya didn’t change his mind. He insisted children were a burden, a waste of energy, time, and money. Tanya didn’t argue. Inside, her decision was already made.
Three years later.
“Oh, Ilya!” A former neighbour nearly collided with him at the airport. “Congratulations on your son!”
“You’ve mistaken me. I don’t have children,” he replied coldly.
“What do you mean? I saw Tanya—with a pram. The little one couldn’t have been more than four months old. I can count, you know.”
Ilya paled. He hadn’t known. Or hadn’t wanted to. Now… now it was too late.
“Where is she? Where did you see her?”
“I won’t say. It was just by chance. And you—turns out you’re one of those men who won’t claim their own child.”
Ilya stood rooted to the spot, only now beginning to understand what he’d lost. By the time he found Tanya three years later, it was too late. The boy called another man “Dad.” Ilya couldn’t compete—not in love, not in deeds, not in heart.
The ending had already been decided. Tanya had chosen wisely.
