Alex, can you watch Charlie for a couple of hours? Emily stared at her husband, irritation sharp in her voice. Ive got a doctors appointment.
I cant, Alex snapped, pushing himself off the sofa. Im meeting the lads. Ive got a night shift coming up.
Please, Alex, Im serious. My headaches wont quit, and my back feels wrong. After the birth, everythings just falling apart.
Emily, you want me to repeat that? he snapped, eyes flashing. I cant. Move it to another day. I already have plans.
Alex was already pulling on his leather jacket, his fingers digging into the pockets.
I cant move it. The booking was set three weeks ago.
Fine, then youll wait three more weeks, he shrugged as if the matter were trivial. Nothings going to happen to you.
The front door slammed. A soft whimper drifted from the nurseryCharlie had woken again. Emily sighed, reached for her phone, and dialed the GP surgery, the tinny holdmusic a nauseating substitute for a proper ringtone. Finally, a human voice answered.
Good morning, I need to cancel todays appointment
She collapsed onto the sofa. Postnatal health felt like a cruel lottery: a back that tightened so hard she couldnt straighten, a head that split open as if a hammer pounded from inside. Doctors waved their hands, saying she needed tests, but tests took time. And someone had to stay with the baby.
Alex didnt give a fig. The last two years had seemed to rewrite his very nature
During the pregnancy hed carried Emilyliterally. Hed lugged heavy bags, cooked, even gave foot massages before bed. Hed call her the most beautiful woman alive, swear hed never been happier. Emily bought every word. She thought shed hit the jackpot with him.
Then Charlie arrived. Everything shattered.
Screams, endless diaper changes, sleepless nights ripped the mask off Alex, revealing a man hed never wanted to be. He shouted at Emily when the house wasnt spotless, cursed at Charlie when he wailed at night, hurled objects, slammed doors, disappeared to the pub and staggered back past midnight.
Look at yourself! he roared, pointing a finger at her. Do you even recognise the woman in the mirror? Wheres my gorgeous wife? Youve become a beast!
Emily watched, seeing the dark circles under his eyes, the tangled hair, the stained old Tshirt from baby food, the stubborn extra pounds she couldnt shed despite eating barely twice a day. How could she find a moment for herself when Charlies fever spiked, his teeth ached, his tummy protested?
You only think about the kid, you treat him like the centre of the universe, Alex sneered, tugging on his boots. Do you even need me?
She stayed silent. She didnt know what to say. Yes, Emily thought about Charlie. How could she not? He was her son.
Exhaustion settled over her like a stone. She reached the point where she just wanted to lie down and never get up again. Four walls, a wailing baby, a husband who saw himself as the familys martyr.
Her job prospects were nonexistent. The firm where shed once worked had folded; the owner fled with debts, the office locked up, staff let go. Emily was on maternity leave, so the blow was indirect, but Charlie would soon be three, and she knew shed have to hunt for a new position. A threeyear gap and a toddler on a résumé didnt sit well with recruiters.
Still, she dreamed. She imagined taking Charlie to nursery, stepping onto the tube, getting to an office, chatting with real people instead of a babbling infant whose only interest was cartoons. She wanted a life beyond the house and the child; she wanted to recall who shed been before.
Charlies third birthday, Emily arranged everything herself. The little boy raced around the flat in a new onesie, cheeks flushed with joy.
Alex was nowhere to be seen.
Emily, wheres Alex? asked Susan, Alexs mother, glancing about as if she expected him to emerge from behind the curtains.
I dont know, Emily forced a smile. Hes probably running late.
How can he be late? Its his sons birthday! demanded David, Alexs father, frowning.
Emily shrugged. Shed called Alex a dozen times, texted, but heard nothing.
The guests exchanged uneasy looks, saying nothing. Emilys own mother, Helen, squeezed her hand under the tablea silent offering of support that changed nothing.
The celebration felt strained. Charlie was happy; the adults pretended everything was fine.
Emily sliced cake, poured tea, smiled at the guests while something inside cracked, fragmenting into pieces that could never be glued back together.
When the party wound down, Charlie collapsed into sleep before anyone could change him. Emily tucked him into his cot, smoothed the blanket, and returned to the chaos of the living room: dirty dishes, torn wrapping, deflated balloons.
She began clearing the mess mechanically, without thought. Plates stacked, dishes into the sink, the table wiped clean.
A jingle of keys in the lock made her freeze. She glanced at the clockmidnight. She peered down the hallway.
Alex stood in the doorway, swaying. His eyes were bloodshot, his shirt crumpled, cheap perfume clinging to his skin, a vivid red lipstick streak on his cheek.
He saw Emily and stopped, frozen.
Emily, its not what you think, his voice cracked, hoarse. I had a whisky in my head a oneoff I swear it wont happen again!
Emily exhaled slowly. A cold wash spread through her, as if ice had been poured over her heart.
Where have you been? she whispered.
I was out with the lads. We went to a bar, there were girls, and one
On our sons birthday, Emily interjected sharply. You were with some girl when Charlie turned three!
Emily, please forgive me! Alex lunged forward. I didnt mean to! It just… happened!
Just happened? Emilys voice trembled. Youre a traitor, a liar. I trusted you completely. We have a family, a child! I never thought youd stoop to cheating!
Youre the one at fault! Alex exploded. Look at yourself! There are gorgeous women everywhere, and I come home to you! Of course I get distracted! Im a young man I need love!
Emily turned and fled to the nursery. Alex called after her, but she didnt look back. She shut the door, slipped inside, lay on the narrow cot beside Charlie and stared into the darkness.
At dawn she packed what she couldher things and Charlies. Alex tried to stop her, grabbed her wrist, begged for forgiveness, a second chance. Emily didnt waver. She hailed a black cab, loaded the suitcases, and drove to her mothers house.
The first weeks were rough. Charlie didnt understand why they now lived with Grandma, he cried, calling for his dad. Emily held him, kissed his forehead, whispered that everything would be alright, though she didnt believe it herself.
Gradually life steadied. Helen helped with Charlie while Emily hunted for work. After a month she landed a jobnothing glamorous, but steady pay and a reasonable boss. The divorce was finalised; Alex didnt fight, he only asked to see his son. Emily agreed; Charlie adored his father.
A few months later she moved into a modest onebed flather own space, her own home with Charlie. Alex began popping by: first rarely, then more often. He helped fix a leaky tap, assembled a bookshelf, walked Charlie. Emily allowed it, not for herself but for the boy. Charlie laughed, clung to his dad, and Emily couldnt deny the warmth his presence brought.
Six months after the divorce Alex remarried. Emily spotted him by chance in a shopping centre, arminarm with a sleek, stylish womanVicky, hair glossy, makeup perfect, a dress that whispered of runway models.
Alex still turned up, even more often than before, bragging about his new wife.
Vickys a proper homemaker, hed say. The house is spotless, dinners always ready. She looks like a model.
Emily nodded, fury smouldering beneath a polite smile. Even after the split, Alex managed to needle her.
Then an idea sparked. She would get back at him, subtly, vindictively, but fairly.
She began calling Alex for every reason.
Alex, Charlie needs a walk, can you come over?
Alex, the kitchen taps leaking, could you fix it?
Alex, Charlie misses you, when can you be here?
Alex showed up each time. He realised he just needed to be with his son to win his affection. They strolled, talked, drank tea. Their conversations stretched into hours. Emily fed him stories about Charlies antics at nursery, laughed, asked questions. Alex answered eagerly, as if hed been starved for this connection.
Soon Vickys voice cut in over the phone.
Alex, are you chatting with her again? Stop it!
Alex brushed it off, but Emily heard the irritation in Vickys tone, and it gave her a twisted sense of relief.
Months later, Alex turned up one evening without warning. Emily opened the door to see his face, gaunt, dishevelled.
Were done, he said, stepping inside.
What? Emily snapped the door shut, leaning against it.
Vicky left. She couldnt take it.
Couldnt take what?
Us. Our connection.
Emily smirked, coldly amused.
What connection, Alex?
You know the time we spend together. I thought maybe we could
No, she crossed her arms. Im already with someone else. Im happy.
Alexs face twisted.
What? Who?
It doesnt matter. It isnt you.
You thought Id wait for you? she laughed bitterly. Seriously?
Youre going to keep feeding my alimony to some strangers husband?! Alex shouted, his voice cracking. You used me! I helped, I
I never promised anything, Emily said calmly. You came to me like a stray dog, hoping to be part of the family. I dont need you. I cant even afford to feed a cat with your alimony, let alone a man.
You you
What? she stepped to the door, flinging it open. Go, Alex. Dont come back without an appointment.
Youre not a woman! he lunged, grabbing his coat, stumbling toward the exit. You little, petty viper!
Maybe, Emily shrugged. But you made me that.
The door slammed. Emily leaned against it, closed her eyes. Inside there was no joy, no reliefonly a hollow void.
She knew shed acted harshly, but Alex had once smashed her dignity, her faith, her love. She had answered in kind.
Emily slipped into Charlies room. He slept, arms outstretched. She sat beside him, ran a hand over his hair, and for a moment the world felt steady again.
