“Oh, for heaven’s sake! So what if he had a fling? All men do it. Stop whinging! Go make up with him. Or do you think Ive got room here for you and that bump?”
“Mum… Hes cheated on me,” Emily reminded her, voice trembling.
Her whole world had crumbled. 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 like she was some petulant child throwing a tantrum.
“So he cheated. Big deal,” huffed Margaret, brows knitting together. “You pushed him to it. What, do you think youre the only woman ever to fall pregnant? Others manage just finewhy must you be so delicate? If you could drag yourself to work, you werent as poorly as you claim.”
“Mum! Dont you remember waiting up for Dad all those nights?” Emily choked out through tears.
“Thats just it!” Margaret threw her hands up. “They all stray. Some just dont get caught. Rightyouve got a week to patch things up. If not, youre on your own.”
Only yesterday, her mother had raged about her son-in-law, swearing hed “get whats coming to him.” Now she was practically shoving Emily into the arms of the man whod betrayed her. Emily knew the truthher mum just didnt want to lift a finger.
Not that shed asked. But right now, a shoulder to lean on wouldve meant everything. Because Emily was pregnant.
Her mother knew exactly how it felt. Emilys father, Robert, had cheated relentlessly. Margaret had her own way of dealing with itweeping, lying awake, waiting. Then, when he slunk home at dawn with roses, shed batter him with the bouquet.
“Never buying you flowers again,” Robert had joked once, shameless. “Too prickly.”
And shed laughed with him. Every betrayal ended the same: fury, bargaining, compensation. Hints dropped, then demands. A mink coat. A car. A shelf of French perfume.
“Hes putty in my hands after,” Margaret had boasted to a friend, flaunting her latest prize. “Strike while the irons hot. What, should I throw it all away? At least this way I get something out of it.”
“Meg… ever thought of leaving him?” her friend had sighed.
“And let some other woman have him? Not bloody likely!”
Over the years, Margaret had talked Robert into signing the flat over to her, renovating itjust in case. After all, he might vanish one day, leaving her and Emily homeless. Hed agreed.
When Emily was eight, her parents divorced. Robert left for good, barely speaking to his daughterneither bothered beyond the odd birthday call.
Margaret had been devastated but swallowed her pride. For a while, they lived off savings and fading luxuries. Then shed gone back to work.
“Went from living like a queen to counting pennies,” shed moaned.
“At least youre not wondering who hes with,” her friend had pointed out.
“Ha. Just wondering how to stretch a fiver.”
Life had grown lean. Margaret pawned her gold jewellery. They learned to eat cheaply, skip theatre trips, wear clothes till they frayed. Emily watched it all, swearing shed never end up like that. Never let her children see such misery.
How wrong shed been.
Emily was reliving her mothers life.
James, too, had moneyinherited wealth, a sharp mind. He owned a chain of salons across London, turning a tidy profit.
Not his only charm. Early on, hed waxed lyrical about perfect relationships.
“People should talk things through. Thats the key,” hed say. “If couples just sat down and hashed things out, thered be far fewer divorces.”
James seemed gentle, yielding, kind. But once married, the cracks showed. Hed fetch Emily peaches at dawn, sprint out for midnight cravings, cover salon bills. Yet when real conflict arose, the act crumbled.
Emily fretted when he worked late. James brushed her offtoo busy. When she begged him to at least answer his phone, hed nod… and still ignore her.
“James, do you have any idea how worried I am?” shed snap when he stumbled in near midnight.
“Em, youre overreacting. Your emotions, your problem.”
“And if I did this to you?”
“Then itd be my problem. I wouldnt burden you with it.”
His logic baffled her. Hed “compromise” only when it suited him. When push came to shove, Emily caved. Shed told herself it was just how men wereclueless about emotions.
Maybe thats why shed kept working, even pregnant. She refused to depend on him.
It wasnt easy. Morning sickness hit harddizziness, migraines, relentless nausea. She dragged herself to the office anyway, doubting, but going.
Turned out, shed been right.
First, the housework slipped. Dust piled up; dinners became pasta or frozen pies. James never complainedif he fancied a proper meal, hed order takeaway. Emily took it as patience.
Then intimacy died. She was too exhausted. James sulked, then seemed to accept it. Or so she thought.
His phone was glued to his handclients, staff. But lately, he took it to bed, even the shower. Sneaking a peek, Emily found the texts. Flirty. Explicit.
She confronted him that night.
“This is on you! What, did you expect me to live like a monk? Im a manI cant wait a year while youre knocked up!” hed roared. “First pregnancy, then kids, then headaches? What reaction did you expect?”
“Understanding. Patience.”
“Try seeing my side! My barbers wifes pregnantshe doesnt push him away. But youre too precious to please your husband?”
Thats when she saw it: James kindness was wrapping paper. Underneath? Pure selfishness. He loved himself, not her.
She packed up and fled to her mothers, hoping for comfort. She got blame.
“Mum, I need help right now,” Emily had gasped through tears.
“I am helping! Go back to him. You need a man; that baby needs a father. Stop snivelling.”
Margarets world was different. Betrayal meant gifts. Forgiveness was wisdom; endurance, survival. Maybe she truly thought she was saving her daughter.
Emily didnt.
Next day, she met her friend Lucy. Theyd worked together years back, covering each others shifts. Still close.
“Em, this is rough… but youll get through,” Lucy said gently. “Youve got maternity pay, child support, benefits. You wont be homeless. Failing that, move in with me. Im aloneno plans to change that soon. Well split bills, ease the load.”
Emily was stunned. James blamed her. Her mother sided with him. Yet here was near-stranger offering a lifeline.
She said yes. Not for the spare roomfor the shred of solidarity.
Back home, she packed. Margaret cornered her at the door.
“Changed your mind? Made up?”
“Never.”
Margaret gasped, splutteredbut Emily was already gone. Inside, she was raw, terrified. But for the first time in months, she could breathe.
However hard it got, she wouldnt crawl back. Not to James. Not to her mother. Better alone than with traitors.
