The air in the flat felt thick, like syrup poured over a silent scream.
“Look, Im sorry, but… weve all got kids. We cant afford… complications. Not like this,” her friend murmured, voice laced with something between pity and fear.
“Claire, what on earth are you on about?”
Emily felt as if someone had tipped a bin over her headfilthy, cold, humiliating.
“We all feel for you, we really do,” Claire continued delicately. “But no one wants to take the risk. Youve got… well, you know. That *situation*.”
It wasnt malice. Claire wasnt trying to wound her. Just stating facts, shielding her own family. In another life, Emily mightve understood.
But that wasnt the point.
“Im not contagious!” Emily snapped. “Whered you even get that idea?”
“Well…” Claire hesitated. “Weve all heard. About your husband. What he brought home.”
“That was ages ago! Im fine now!”
“Love, from what Ive heard… its permanent. We just cant take the chance,” Claire said weakly. “Youd do the same, honestly. Im sorry, Em…”
The line went dead. Emily dropped her phone onto the table like it had burned her.
Six months. Thats how long her friends had vanished. Polite check-ins, nothing more. No invitesnot even to birthdays. Shed seen the photos online, of course. Laughter, cake, everyone but her.
Had she offended someone? Fallen out of favour over some baseless rumour? No one had even bothered to ask.
So shed called Claire. And now she wished she hadnt.
They all looked at her like she was cursed.
She slumped onto the sofa, replaying the memory.
…Evening. Silence. A pot of soup going cold on the hob. Unread messages in the chat with her husbandall from her. James was late. Again.
At first, shed fumed. Then came the gnawing dread. Then numbness. She stopped expecting him before midnight.
“Mad workload. Everyones scrambling for loans, trying to start businesseswere swamped,” hed explained.
But other things changed too. James became obsessive about hygiene. Left his phone face-down. Volunteered for weekend shifts without complaint. Even started getting haircuts weeklya miracle, for him.
Emily noticed. Chose to ignore it. Just a rough patch, right?
Then the pain. The googling. The doctors visit.
The words that unravelled her life.
“Im sorry, but theres only one way this happens,” the doctor said, eyeing her like she was slow. “Youve got questions for your husband.”
Shed sat on the bench outside, staring at the linoleum. The walk home blurred.
James lied first. Denied everything.
“*You* probably picked it up somewhere and blamed me!”
Then the confession. A woman at work. No remorse.
“I was exhausted, and you were nagging for attention. Course I looked elsewhere. You saw us falling apartdid nothing.”
He didnt shout. Didnt apologise. Just asked, weakly, if they could fix it.
“Nothing to fix, James. Not after your little *gift*. Were done.”
The divorce was smooth. Nothing to split. James seemed almost relieved.
She thought it was over. It wasnt.
“The infections cleared,” the doctor said later. “But there may be… fertility complications.”
“Youre saying I cant have children?”
“Lets say… the odds arent favourable.”
Medical code for *no chance*.
Her cousin, a nurse, was blunter: “If you conceive, itll be a miracle.”
Emily had grown up with three brotherschaos, bickering, stolen sweets. Shed wanted that noise, that love, for her own children. Now she sat in her silent flat, the dream crumbling.
That night, she broke. She called Kate. Her oldest friend. The one whod seen her through every heartbreak since primary school.
“Just… be my shoulder tonight,” Emily whispered.
Kate arrived. Emily sobbed into her jumper.
“They said I might never”
“Medicines brilliant these days,” Kate cut in. “And theres always adoption.”
Kate held her, stroked her hair, promised shed never be alone.
When dawn came, Emily made her swear to secrecy.
“Course! Mums the word,” Kate vowed.
But the “word” spread.
Now, Emily dialled Kate again.
“Em! Long time,” Kate chirped, too bright.
“Yeah. Wonder why,” Emily bit back.
Silence.
“Whats that mean?”
“Dont play dumb. Everyone thinks Ive got the plague! You were the *only* one who knew.”
A sigh.
“Look, I didnt say *what* it was. Just told Annie about your… issues. She mustve filled in the blanks.”
“After I begged you not to?”
“I didnt think itd blow up! I justI was worried!”
Emily closed her eyes. The road to hell, paved with good intentions.
“You dont worry by blabbing. I trusted you.”
“Im sorry! It just… snowballed. I never meant”
“*Meant*? Kate, youre just a gossip. Thats worse.”
She hung up. The flat swallowed the silence. No more texts. No more plans.
All those promises, those friendshipsdust.
She hugged a pillow to her chest. At least it wouldnt betray her.
