“Jenna! Jen, why are you standing there like a statue? Come on, or well miss the film! We still need to grab popcorn,” called her friend Emma.
Jenna blinked, startled, her heart pounding. “Huh?”
“Whats wrong with you? Lets go! The others are waiting!” Emma snapped impatiently.
“Em, I dont feel right. You go aheadIll head back to the dorm,” Jenna replied.
“Should I call an ambulance? Youve gone completely pale,” Emma fretted.
“No, no Just apologise to Mark for me, alright?” Jenna tried to steady her voice but failed.
“Fine. Get some rest. Maybe exam stress is getting to you?” Emma suggested.
“Yeah, probably,” Jenna forced a weak smile.
Emma left, glancing back a few times. Jenna sank onto a bench, took a sip from her water bottle, and wiped her face. The tightness in her chest eased slightly.
She hadnt told Emma the real reason for her panic. It wasnt exams. Moments earlier, a pregnant woman had walked past, pushing a pram with two toddlers in tow. Emma hadnt noticed, but Jenna had. Rubbing her cheeks, she was pulled back a decade
*”Jenny, stop dawdling with the dishes! Hurry upI still need you to fetch nappies,” her mother ordered, storming into the kitchen.
Jenna dropped a plate. It clattered loudly into the sink. From the nursery, baby George began wailing.
“Clumsy girl! Now go and settle him! I just got him to sleep!” her mother shouted.
“Im going,” Jenna mumbled, heading to the cot.
As the eldest in a fatherless household, Jenna shouldered the chores and care for her younger siblings: Lucy, Sophie, Tommy, and George. Her mother cycled through boyfriends, bearing a child with each.
“Has he settled?” Natalie asked, cracking open a jar of jam.
“Yeah” Jenna whispered, turning back to the dishes.
“Leave those. Fetch the nappies. You can finish later, after school,” Natalie commanded.
“Mum, Ill be late. My form tutor already complains,” Jenna protested.
“Ten minutes wont kill you. I used to skip school altogether, and lookI turned out fine,” Natalie scoffed.
On her way back with the nappies, Jenna bumped into classmates eating ice cream.
“Oh, lookits Mummy Jen,” one girl sneered.
The nickname had stuck since shed been seen pushing prams instead of hanging out. She resented not the children, but her mother
At eighteen, Jenna dreamed of freedomuniversity, moving to London. When her mother returned to work after maternity leave, Jenna thought escape was near.
Then, one May morning, she found her mother pale and queasy.
“Mum, are you ill?”
“Just morning sickness. Fry some eggsthe smell of food makes me heave.”
“Whats wrong?” Jennas voice trembled.
“Dont be daft. Im pregnant. Dave wants a kid of his own. Hes moving in soon, so well have to squeeze tighter. Now, go cook.”
Jennas resolve hardened. That August, she left for university amid a storm of arguments.
In the city, she built a new life: part-time work, friends, and a vow never to have children.
***
“Miss? Are you alright?” A mans voice snapped her back to the present.
“Sorry, just tired,” Jenna mumbled.
“Fancy a coffee to wake up? Theres a nice café nearby.”
She agreed. The stranger, Andrew, was kind. They dated, but the closer they grew, the more an unnameable dread gripped her. She mightve wanted marriagebut children? Never.
One evening, over dinner, Andrew slid a velvet ring box across the table.
“Jen, I love you. But before you answer, theres something you should know.”
“What?” Her vision blurred with tears.
“I cant have children. If you marry me, therell be no adoption, no surprises. I need you to be certain.”
“I am,” she choked out. “I dont want kids. Never have.”
They married, moved away, and severed ties with her family.
Now, in their cosy home, Andrew works at a firm while Jenna runs a small art studio. Evenings are spent on the balcony, sipping tea in contented silence. Some question their choice, but Jenna knowsthis is her happiness.
Her past no longer hurts. Its simply the road that led her here. And as Andrew smiles at her, she knows: some choices, though unorthodox, are perfectly right.
Happiness isnt one-size-fits-allits finding the life that fits you.
