“Do you have any regrets?” asked Matthew, holding Emily close to his chest.
“No. Do you?” Emily lifted her gaze to meet his.
“I’m happy. You know, when you first walked into our lives—into mine and Sophie’s—I knew it was meant to be. Everything before you happened so we could find each other. After my ex-wife left—”
Emily pressed a finger to his lips.
“Let’s not dwell on the past. The future is what matters now.”
—
A year earlier
Emily laid out the festive tablecloth in the dining room, then brought plates, cutlery, and two wine glasses from the kitchen.
“Are you sure staying in was the right call? It would’ve been livelier at Jack’s place. We could still join them,” Daniel said as she returned.
“Absolutely sure. Take these to the table.” She handed him a platter with sliced meats, cheese, and a bowl of salad. “We’ll see our friends tomorrow. Three years together, and we’ve never spent New Year’s Eve alone. However you start the year is how you’ll spend it.”
“So you’re planning to lock us in together for the next twelve months?” he teased, pausing in the doorway.
“Wouldn’t that be nice? Shame it’s impossible,” Emily sighed.
“Fine, we’ll give it a go.” Daniel relented and carried the food out.
She retrieved a chilled bottle of champagne and another salad bowl before joining him.
“Well? Looks decent, doesn’t it?” He gestured at his table arrangement. “Can we get started? I’m practically drooling.”
“Five more minutes. I need to change into my new dress.” She headed for the bedroom.
“Why bother if it’s just us?” he muttered, snagging a slice of ham.
“Because it’s a celebration!” her voice floated back.
Dramatic as ever, Daniel thought, grabbing another slice.
Moments later, Emily reappeared, radiant in a sapphire-blue dress, her curls cascading over her shoulders. Daniel gave an approving nod as she twirled, the skirt flaring before settling around her legs.
“Now we can send off the old year properly,” she said, glancing at the clock.
“This spread’s too much for two. Should we call Tom? He’s home with his mum.”
“Call him tomorrow. Pop the champagne.” Her smile was electric.
She’s acting odd tonight. Daniel twisted the bottle cap, frowning.
“You seem… different,” he began cautiously.
“A little excited. You’ll see why soon.” The news burned inside her, but she’d wait for midnight—it had to be perfect.
They toasted, nibbled at the food, and Daniel leaned back, watching a lighthearted film while Emily barely sipped her drink.
“You’re not drinking?”
“Don’t want to doze off before the countdown.”
He stepped onto the balcony for a smoke. Snowflakes drifted past glowing windows; distant cheers erupted as fireworks crackled behind rooftops.
“Matt’s speech is starting!” Emily called.
Daniel flicked his cigarette into the dark and returned inside, barely registering the Prime Minister’s address. His mind buzzed, too many thoughts for a single wish.
“You still haven’t touched yours?” He nodded at her full glass. “How will you make a wish?”
“Daniel, there’s something I need to tell you.” She sat straighter. “Pour yourself another drink first.”
She waited, then continued. “We’re not just two tonight. We’re three. There’s… a little one on the way.” Her eyes sparkled.
He stared blankly.
“No guess who I mean? I’m pregnant. It’s early, but… it’s real.”
Daniel poured back his wine and set the glass down hard.
“Aren’t you happy?” Her voice wavered.
“I am, but…” He exhaled. “We agreed to wait.”
“Three years together, Daniel. I’m twenty-eight. I want this. Why wait? It’s already happening.”
“But… your pills—”
“I stopped last month. Usually, it takes longer, but… here we are. Isn’t it wonderful?” Her forced cheer faltered.
“Is that why you skipped Lucy’s party?”
“Yes. Honestly, I thought this would make you propose.” Her voice dropped. “Guess I was wrong.” Tears spilled as she bolted to the kitchen.
“Em, I didn’t say I wasn’t happy—it’s just a shock!” He chased her.
She darted onto the balcony, gripping the door. “Don’t be childish—you’ll freeze!” He yanked it open, nearly knocking her over.
“Why didn’t you tell me you’d stopped the pills?”
“Because you’d have talked me out of it again! This—us living together—it’s not a family. Go on, enjoy your night!” She fled to the bathroom as fireworks boomed outside.
“Sorry I’m not what you wanted. I can’t—” He pressed his forehead to the door. Water rushed inside.
Back in the dining room, he eyed the untouched glass, gulped it down, and fumed. New Year’s ruined. They were fine before this. Selfish. His anger spiked. Why stay? He grabbed his coat and left.
Emily heard the slam and sobbed into her dress until the fabric darkened. She cleared the table, changed, and curled on the sofa, the telly’s festive melodies mocking her.
Daniel didn’t return that night, or the next day. When her friend Charlotte pried the story loose, she sighed.
“Men always panic about babies. He’ll come back. Want me to talk sense into him?”
“No. Just go. I won’t do anything stupid.”
Daniel reappeared three days later, apologetic, but the tension lingered through the holidays. His phone buzzed constantly.
“Anything to say?” Emily finally asked.
“What do you want to hear? Fine—I’m leaving. You tricked me.”
“Then go.” She turned to the window.
“I thought you’d snap out of it.”
“Wanting a baby is a phase?”
“I can’t talk to you.”
After he left, Emily cried for a day. By nightfall, cramps struck. The ambulance came, but the baby couldn’t be saved. She returned to work pale and hollow.
At the music academy where she taught, one student—bright, diligent Sophie—had stopped attending in December. Emily assumed illness, but by February, she sought the headmaster.
“Her father withdrew her. Said she won’t be returning.”
“Why? She’s gifted—perfect pitch! Give me their address. I’ll speak to him.”
That evening, crunching through frost, Emily reached their doorstep. Matthew, tall and weary, answered.
“I’m Sophie’s piano teacher. May we talk?”
Sophie, hearing her voice, dashed over with a hug. Over tea, Matthew explained:
“Her mother left us. My job’s overwhelming. I switched Sophie to after-school care. By evening, we’re both exhausted.”
“Let me teach her at home. I’ll help with homework too.”
His brows rose. “Why would you do that?”
Emily looked down. “I… live alone now. My partner left when I told him about the baby.”
Sophie returned to lessons. Emily adjusted her schedule to fetch her from school, bringing homemade sandwiches. They’d practice, do assignments, and sometimes wait for Matthew at her flat, playing duets or reading.
One evening, Daniel barged in—she’d forgotten he had a key.
“Private lessons now?”
“Yes. Here for your things?” Her calm unnerved him.
“No, I wanted…” He hesitated, eyeing Sophie. “Can we talk alone?”
“She’s a child. Speak.”
“I want us to try again. I was wrong to leave. But you shouldn’t have—” He cut off, glancing at Sophie.
The doorbell rang.
“Expecting someone?” Daniel strode to answer—and Matthew’s voice boomed in the hall.
Emily rushed over as accusations flew.
“Found my replacement quick, didn’t you? Is the kid even mine?” Daniel spat.
“There is no baby anymore. Leave!” she screamed.
“You lied to trap me? Well, good luck!” The door shook on its hinges as he left.
Matthew looked stricken. “Bad timing. Sophie, coat on.”
“No, you saved me. I almost believed him…” Emily collapsed onto her bed, weeping.
Charlotte later confirmed Daniel had been with an old flame.
By March, snow melted into spring. As lessons ended, Matthew arrived unexpectedly.
“Daddy! Are we taking Miss Emily home?” Sophie beamed.
In the car, he thanked her, then proposed dinner. “No time to cook.”
Two months later, he knelt in that same café.
“No rush, but why wait? Sophie adores you, and I… I’ve never been happier.”
She stayed silent.
“Don’t answer yet. I get it—a single dad’s baggage.”
But she’d already decided. “I don’t need time. Yes.”
They married inAs the years passed, their family grew, laughter filled the house, and Emily knew every heartache had led her to this joy.
