“Oh, for heavens sake! So he had a fling. All men do it. Stop whining and go make up with him. Or do you think Ive got room here for you and that belly of yours?”
“Mum… He cheated on me,” Emily reminded her, voice trembling.
Her whole world had shattered. Yesterday, shed caught her husband in bed with another woman. Today, her mother was all but shoving her out the door. Both spoke to her as if she were a spoiled little girl throwing a tantrum.
“So he cheated. Big deal,” snapped Margaret, frowning. “You drove him to it. What, do you think youre some kind of martyr? Plenty of women go through pregnancies without making a fuss. But youyoure just too delicate! You kept working, so you couldnt have been that poorly.”
“Mum! Dont you remember waiting up for Dad all those nights?” Emily choked out through tears.
“Thats exactly my point!” Margaret threw her hands up. “They all stray. Just not all get caught. Right, youve got a week to sort things out. If you dont, youre on your own.”
Just yesterday, her mother had raged about her son-in-law, swearing hed “pay for this.” Today, she was practically pushing Emily to beg forgiveness from the man whod betrayed her. Emily knew the truthher mother just didnt want to lift a finger to help.
She wouldnt have asked, not normally. But right now, she could use a shoulder to lean on. Especially since she was pregnant.
Her mother knew exactly what that felt like. Emilys father, Richard, had cheated on her constantly. Margaret had her own way of dealing with itcrying, sleepless nights, waiting by the window. Then, when hed slink home at dawn with a bouquet, shed beat him with the very flowers hed brought.
“Never buying you roses again,” Richard once joked, shameless. “Too prickly.”
And shed laughed with him. Every time he strayed, shed unleash her furythen demand compensation. Sometimes with hints, other times outright. That was how Margaret ended up with a mink coat, a car, and a shelf full of French perfume.
“Hes putty in my hands after,” shed boasted to a friend, showing off her latest prize. “I strike while the irons hot. What, should I just throw him out? At least this way, I get something out of it.”
“Mags ever think of leaving him?” her friend sighed. “This isnt living.”
“Oh yes, so another woman can have him? Not a chance!” Margaret scoffed.
Over the years, shed convinced Richard to put the flat in her name and renovate itfor security, shed said. After all, he might walk out one day, leaving her and Emily on the street. Hed gone along with it.
When Emily was eight, her parents divorced. Richard left for another woman and barely kept in touchjust the odd holiday call, neither of them eager for more.
Margaret had been devastated but resigned. For a while, they scraped by on savings and leftover luxuries before she had to go back to work.
“Used to live like royalty, now Im counting pennies,” shed lamented.
“At least youre not wondering who hes with,” her friend countered.
“True. Still, its a miserable way to live.”
It was hard. So hard that Margaret pawned her gold jewellery. But eventually, they adjustedsmaller meals, fewer theatre trips, wearing clothes more than one season. Emily watched it all, vowing never to end up in a marriage like that. Never to let her children see such things.
How wrong shed been.
Emily was repeating her mothers mistakes.
James was well-off, tooa wealthy heir with a sharp mind. He owned a chain of beauty salons across the city, pulling in steady money.
Not that wealth was his only charm. Early on, hed waxed poetic about his idea of a perfect relationship.
“People need to communicate. Thats the key,” hed say. “If couples just sat down and talked things through, thered be far fewer divorces.”
James seemed gentle, accommodating, kind. But once they married and real conflicts arose, the cracks showed. Hed bring her fresh peaches in the morning, dash out at midnight for her cravings, pay for her salon visits. But when tensions flared, his true colours emerged.
Emily worried when he stayed late at work. James brushed it offtoo busy. When she begged him to at least answer her calls, hed nod then still ignore them.
“James, do you have any idea how worried I get?!” shed snapped one night as he strolled in near midnight. “Is it really so hard to pick up the phone?”
“Em, youre overthinking. Your emotions are your problem,” he replied.
“And if I did this to you? Youd just sit there?”
“Yep. Thatd be my issue to deal with. I wouldnt bother you with it.”
His logic baffled her. Hed negotiatebut only if it suited him. When interests clashed, Emily always folded. Shed foolishly dismissed it as a quirk, telling herself men just didnt “get” emotions.
Maybe thats why she hadnt quit her job. Not even when she got pregnant. She refused to depend on him.
It wasnt easy. By the second month, morning sickness was relentless. A quick movement left her nauseous. Headaches and dizziness plagued her. She craved quiet, but forced herself to work, doubting the pointyet going anyway.
Turns out, it was worth it.
First, the household crumbled. Emily stopped cleaning and cooking. Meals became pasta, steaks, frozen burgers. James never complainedif he fancied something special, hed order in. To her, that was his version of compromise.
Then came the lack of intimacy. She was too exhausted. At first, James sulked, but seemed to accept it. Or so she thought.
His phone was glued to his hand, always texting partners, staff, clients. Lately, he took it to bedeven the shower. Suspicious, Emily checked it. There they were: flirty messages, photos, sweet nothings.
She confronted him the same day.
“This is your fault! Did you expect me to join a monastery? Im a man! Im not waiting a year while youre pregnantthen what? Kids screaming, headaches forever? What reaction did you expect?”
“Understanding. Patience,” she forced out. “Not an affair.”
“Try seeing my side! One of my barbers, Petehis wifes pregnant too. She doesnt push him away. But you? Too much effort, is it?”
Thats when it hit her. Jamess kindness was just wrapping paper. Underneath, he was pure selfishness. He loved himselfnot her.
She packed a bag and fled to her mother, hoping for support. Instead, she got blame.
“Mum, I need help right now,” Emily gasped, tears choking her.
“I *am* helping! Im giving you sense. Go back to him. You need a man, and that baby needs a father. Stop snivelling.”
Margaret saw things differently. Affairs were opportunities for gifts. Forgiveness was wisdom; endurance, just survival. Maybe she truly thought she was saving her daughter.
Emily didnt see it that way.
The next day, she met her friend. She had to vent to someone. She and Angela had worked together years ago, covering for each other often. Even after Emily left, theyd stayed close.
“Em, this is rough but youll get through it,” Angela said gently. “Youve got maternity pay, child support, benefits. You wont be homeless. Stay with me if you needIve got the space. Cant promise forever, but for now, its yours. Well split the bills, ease the load.”
Emily was stunned. Her husband blamed her. Her mother sided with him. Yet here was someone offering helpno strings.
Of course, she said yes. Not just for the room, but for the lifeline.
She went home to pack. Margaret cornered her at the door.
“Changed your mind? Made up?” she smirked.
Emily looked up, calm.
“Never.”
Margaret gasped, flailed, rantedbut Emily was already gone. Inside, she was raw with pain, loneliness, fear. Yet for the first time, she breathed freely.
However hard it got, she wouldnt go back. Not to him. Not to her mother. Shed claw her way through hell before shed stay with traitors. Alone was better than betrayed.
