**Diary Entry**
I shouldve known better. When Laura hesitated on the phone, her voice dripping with forced sympathy, I felt itthe weight of her words before she even spoke.
*”Im sorry, but we all have children. We cant afford trouble. Especially not this kind.”*
*”Laur, what are you on about?”*
It hit me like a bucket of icy waterdisgusting, humiliating, leaving me frozen where I stood.
*”We all feel for you, truly,”* she fumbled, her tone painfully careful. *”But no one wants to take risks. Not with your situation.”*
She wasnt trying to hurt me. She was saving herself, her family. In some twisted way, I understood.
But that wasnt the point.
*”Im not contagious!”* I snapped. *”Where on earth did you get that idea?”*
*”Well”* A pause. *”We all know. About your ex. What he gave you.”*
*”You know nothing! Yes, I had issues, but Im fine now!”*
*”Im sorry, but from what Ive heard some things dont go away. We cant risk it.”* Her voice was small, defensive. *”Youd do the same. You know you would.”*
The line went dead. I dropped my phone as if it burned me.
—
Six months. Thats how long my friends had ghosted me. Polite check-ins, nothing more. No invites, not even for birthdays. At first, I wondered if Id offended someone. Maybe they suspected me of something. But no one bothered to ask.
So I called Laura. Asked directly.
Turns out, they all saw me as tainted.
—
I shouldve seen it coming.
The late nights. The untouched soup on the stove. The unread messages in our chatmine, never his. James was always “working late.”
At first, I was angry. Then anxious. Eventually, just numb.
*”Mad workload. Everyones scrambling for loans, diving into startups,”* hed say.
But the changes were obvious. Suddenly, he was meticulous about hygiene, never left his phone unattended, jumped at every weekend call from colleagues. Even started getting haircuts regularlya miracle, for him.
I noticed, but ignored it. A rough patch, thats all. Then came the pain. Googling gave me hopemaybe a temporary glitch. But the “glitch” didnt fade. The doctors verdict shattered everything.
*”Theres only one way this happens,”* he said, blunt. *”Youve got questions for your husband.”*
—
The confrontation was short. First, denial. *”Youre pinning this on me?”* Then, deflection. A mistress, admitted without remorse.
*”I needed an escape. You saw us falling apart and did nothing.”*
No apology. Just a hollow, *”Can we fix this?”*
*”No, James. Not after your little gift.”*
The divorce was smoothno fights, no shared assets. He seemed relieved.
But the damage lingered. The doctors words echoed: *”Reproductive complications are likely.”*
My cousin, a nurse, was blunter: *”A pregnancy would be a miracle.”*
That night, I called Kate. My oldest friend, the one whod seen me through every crisisfamily rows, breakups, even when her spaniel, Biscuit, passed.
*”Kate I need you tonight,”* I whispered.
She came. Held me as I sobbed about James, about the future Id lost.
*”Im terrified of ending up alone,”* I choked out.
*”Youre not. Youve got family. Youve got me.”*
By dawn, Id calmed. As she left, I begged her to keep it quiet.
*”Of course. My lips are sealed.”*
A lie.
Because later, Laura admitted it*Kate* had talked. Not the details, but enough for rumours to spread.
When I confronted her, she stammered, *”I just told Annie you were struggling! I never thought”*
*”You never think,”* I spat. *”Thats the problem.”*
I hung up. The silence was deafening.
No more messages. No more plans. Just me and my pillowthe only thing that wouldnt betray me.
Funny, how quickly the people you lean on vanish when you need them most.
