**Diary Entry**
*Forty is the perfect age!*
Em, whats taking so long? Have you fallen asleep? Hurry up, or well be late for work!
Coming! Emma flinched slightly, glancing at the bathroom door.
She knew shed been in there longer than usual, but she had her reasons. All week, shed felt queasy in the mornings, and though shed brushed it off at first, now it terrified her. Deep down, Emma suspected whybut the thought of being pregnant was too frightening to entertain. Shaking off the idea, she stepped out.
Sorry, she muttered to her husband, couldnt get my eyeliner right on the first try.
You do that in the bedroom! James frowned at her.
Right, of course! Emma didnt argue.
She hurried to the kitchen to make coffeetheir usual routine. But today, even the smell turned her stomach. She couldnt bring herself to drink it.
You alright? James asked, concerned.
Fine. Just not in the mood for coffee.
Really? You looked like you were about to be sick! Are you ill?
Emma wrapped her arms around herself. The mere thought of a child sent a tremor through her. James moved closer, pressing a hand to her forehead.
Youre not feverish Maybe stay home today? Call in sick. The last thing we need is you falling ill with the mortgage still hanging over us
Once James left, Emma sank onto the sofa, lost in thought. She knew what she had to dobuy a test and face the truth. But the idea terrified her. If it was positive, everything would change.
*I just got that promotion, and James is right about the mortgage. And we were finally planning that trip to Cornwall*
Once, years ago, theyd dreamed of childrenback when they were newlyweds, full of youthful hope. But it never happened, and over time, theyd stopped talking about it. Emma had grown content with their life together. A baby now? It would mean sleepless nights, endless expenses, their carefully laid plans upended
Groaning, she dragged herself to the pharmacy.
The test confirmed her fears. Positive. She placed a hand on her stomach, half-convinced it already looked different, though she knew that was impossible. Then, a flutter of awesomething tiny, growing inside her. The fear and joy tangled into one.
Youll be the best little one, she whispered.
But doubt crept back. She wasnt young anymore. What would James say? What if he was angry? What if he didnt want this either?
By evening, shed worked herself into a panic. She knew she had to tell him, but when James walked in, all she managed was:
Fancy some dinner?
Obviously! Im starving!
He studied her as she bustled to the kitchen. Something was off. Her eyesbrighter somehow. Was she happy? James pushed the thought aside. Maybe shed tell him in her own time.
Feeling better?
Much. Had a nap earlier. Work said not to worryits a short week anyway, with the company gala tomorrow.
Youre going?
She nearly said yesthen remembered.
Think Ill skip it. Better safe than sorry, right?
If you say so.
Now he was sure. Emma never missed parties, especially not with her girls.
What about celebrating your promotion with the girls?
Not in the mood. Fancy a walk tomorrow, just us?
James nodded, then asked for tea. Emma moved slower than usualno rushed, efficient motions. Just quiet, deliberate care.
His chest tightened. There was only one reason shed act like this.
Who is he?
What?
The man youve fallen for.
Emmas confusion was genuine, but James didnt buy it. He stood, voice low.
Youre glowing. Dancing around like youve won the lottery. If youve found someone else fine. Just dont lie.
He turned to leave. Emma, stunned, finally blurted it out:
James, Im pregnant!
He froze. Slowly, he stepped closer, eyes searching hers. She took his hand, pressing it to her stomach.
Its yours.
A storm of emotions crossed his face. Then, without a word, he walked out.
Emma stood alone, heartbroken. Once, hed wanted this more than anything. Now, hed just left.
She mechanically tidied the kitchen, fighting tears. Without James, how could she raise a child?
Half an hour later, slumped in the dark, she heard the doorbell.
Flowers. A massive bouquet of her favourite lilies. Then James, grinning.
For you, Em.
He pulled her into the hall, breathless.
Im sorry I ran. I was justGod, Im so happy! If its a boy, well call him Oliver. A girlSophie. Well ring my parents, book the midwife
He stopped. Emma was crying.
Hey, whats wrong?
I thought you didnt want this. That forty was too old
Dont be daft! Im not going anywhere. And fortys perfect.
But the mortgage, my job
Listen. A babys worth more than all of that. Well manage. Ive got you. And sleepless nights? Bring them on.
Emma buried her face in his shoulder, relief flooding her. Theyd figure it outtogether. All three of them.
