“Have a child for me. You know I can’t have children…”
The first day at university began with a lecture. Helen wandered the corridors for ages before finding the right room. She’d just taken the last seat in the front row when the professor strode in. He introduced himself, explaining what they’d cover that year, stressing that exam questions would come from lectures, not textbooks. “Attend now,” he warned, “or waste time later scrambling for answers online.”
Then the door swung open, and in walked a dazzling girl. The room tittered. The professor turned sharply.
“Are you here for the lecture? Name?”
“Caroline Elizabeth Whitmore,” she shot back, unbothered.
“First and last warning, Caroline. Next time, don’t be late. I don’t tolerate tardiness.” He eyed the hushed room. “That goes for all of you. Now, where were we?”
Caroline teetered to the front in her heels, and Helen scooted over.
“Hi. Did I miss anything scary?” Caroline whispered.
“Be quiet, or he’ll kick you out,” Helen hissed.
At break, they bonded. Caroline, from Surrey, commuted by train and misjudged the timing. Helen, from Manchester, lived in student halls. Caroline breezed through studies, baffled by Helen’s diligence.
“What’s the difference between a second-class degree and a first? Marry well—that’s success.”
“I promised my mum I’d study hard. She raised me alone—dropped out of uni when she got pregnant. My dad vanished. I won’t repeat her mistakes.”
“You’ll wither over books! When will you actually *live*?”
“After graduation,” Helen laughed.
Despite differences, they became inseparable. Helen attended every lecture, covering for Caroline, who skipped classes for nights out. Many warned Helen Caroline was using her.
“So? Friendship’s rarely selfless. Someone always leans harder,” Helen shrugged.
By fourth year, Caroline fell in love and nearly failed—until Helen rescued her grades. Then Caroline got pregnant.
“Wanted an abortion, but Steven found out and *lost it*. We’re marrying. You’re my witness.”
They wed before New Year’s, and Caroline had a boy. Exhausted, she scraped through exams on pity passes while Helen graduated with first-class honours, ready to return to Manchester.
“You’re mad! With that degree, London’s yours! Steven’s dad owns a firm—he’ll hire you. Your mum can wait. Live a little!”
Helen stayed. Steven’s father hired her, and she excelled—but her love life stalled.
Rarely meeting now, Helen was shocked when Caroline called, voice hollow: “Come over.”
Helen rushed to her London flat.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m pregnant.”
Helen exhaled. “Oh, thank God! I thought—congratulations!”
“Congratulate *this*! Just got free of nappies, planned to work—now this? Steven’s obsessed with a big family. Says *he’s* tired? Try birthing them! He’s never home—is he cheating?”
“Don’t be absurd. He adores you.”
Another boy arrived. Caroline sobbed.
“Now he wants a *girl*. What if it’s another boy? I’m not a breeding machine!”
Helen, now married to Steven’s friend, longed for children. But tests revealed she’d never conceive. Devastated, she buried herself in work until her husband left—for a woman who could give him kids.
Meanwhile, Caroline moved to a posh Hertfordshire house. Visiting, Helen admired the garden, the boys’ photos—then wept in the nursery.
“You’re so lucky.”
“Lucky? Steven’s always abroad. I’m *lonely*. And—I’m pregnant *again*. I’m getting an abortion.”
Helen froze. “Don’t. Have this baby—for *me*. I’ll take it. Please.”
“*What?*”
They struck a deal: summer in Manchester, hidden until birth. Caroline delivered early—a frail girl she dismissed. “She’s yours.”
Helen adored her. Svetlana, though sickly, was her light. Caroline cut contact.
*****
Fifteen years later, under an oak at their cottage, Helen, her husband, and Svetlana had tea. Caroline watched through the fence, then barged in, eyes locked on the girl.
Helen stiffened. “How—? Join us. This is my old friend…”
But Caroline’s intensity unnerved Svetlana, who left.
“Why are you here?” Helen hissed.
“I’ve lost everything. My sons—one dead, one abroad. Steven left me. Give me my daughter.”
“She’s *mine*.”
“Let her study in London. I’ll never tell her the truth—just let me *know* her.”
Helen remembered begging Caroline years ago. She relented.
Svetlana resisted, but curiosity won. She moved to London, thrived, married, and had a daughter. Caroline, once reluctant to mother, doted on her granddaughter. Helen visited often, and the child grew up with three grandmas’ love.
*****
Secret truths linger. But sometimes, love means sharing—even what hurts to give.
