Broken hearts: a tale of betrayal and salvation
Thomas, Im with child! she announced at the doorway, giving her husband no time for speculation. He froze, glanced aside and sighed, Well then if its meant to be, before planting a quick kiss on her cheek, as if trying to flee his own feelings.
Clare had first fallen for Andrew while she was still a university student. He worked at the engineering firm where she was completing her placement. Young, handsome, already deputy department manager, he seemed to belong to another world. A modest girl from a Norfolk village could never have imagined that he would notice her. Yet on the final day of her internship, he approached her, handed her a box of chocolates and asked her to join him for an evening walk. Thus began their story.
On their first date he confessed that he had grown up without parents. His mother had remarried and left, leaving him in his grandmothers care. Clare never mentioned that her own parents had never shown any interest in her. Her childhood had been a cold stretch of indifference, lacking even a flicker of warmth. Both knew what loneliness felt like, and perhaps that is why they clung to each other so swiftly.
A month later Clare moved into Andrews rented flat in a cramped part of Birmingham. Soon after came the weddingmodest, without extravagance, but full of hope. They dreamed of a future together, of a house of their own, of a quiet life. The only point of friction was children. Clare had longed for a baby, while Andrew kept delaying, Were fine as two, why rush?
When the pregnancy test showed two pink lines, Clare hesitated to reveal it, fearing judgment and reproach. At last she gathered the courage.
Well be parents, are you happy? she asked.
I thought that would be later he replied, his disappointment plain.
He skipped the first ultrasound, waiting in the car while Clare returned, eyes brimming with tears and joytwins. Two tiny heartbeats thumped within her.
Twins?! Andrew paled. That wasnt what we agreed on. You must have an abortion!
What are you saying?! I saw our children I cant Clare sobbed.
She hoped he would find compassion, but each day he grew more distant. He began to criticize her, saying she had put on weight and lost her figure. She tried to ignore it. After the babies were born, things worsened.
Blythe and Ellinorher twin daughtersbecame the centre of her world. Andrew, however, lingered after work, keeping his distance, unwilling to help. Clare endured it allfor the children, for love, for family.
When the girls reached a year and a half, she mentioned returning to work. Andrew sat opposite her, staring at the floor.
Youll see I have another. Im leaving. I wont abandon the children, but I want to live with her.
Clare was struck dumb.
You swore youd never be like your parents! she choked out between tears.
He left. At first he still turned up, then vanished for good. Clare was left alone, penniless, unsupported. Return to the village? There were no jobs. Stay in the city? Work existed, but nowhere to live.
Her boss stepped in, arranging a spot in a university hall of residence. A tiny room, a bit of renovation, two childrenshe managed as best she could. One crisp morning, as she struggled to push the pram onto the cobbled street, a voice called out:
May I lend a hand? Im John, I live next door.
He helped without asking questions, later offering assistance with the repairs. He began picking the girls up from nursery. Clare at first recoiledfearfulbut day by day John became part of their lives.
He was ordinary, dependable. He too had known betrayalhis wife had left him for a friend when she learned they could not have children. Yet here were two little ones who he loved with his whole heart.
When he proposed to Clare, she initially refused.
I have children. Youll find another woman.
I want to be with you. The children arent an obstacle; theyre like my own.
They married. A week later Andrew resurfaced.
Clare, Im sorry. I understand everything now. Lets start again
Too late. Im married. My children have a father now. A real one.
John stepped forward from the doorway.
Meet my husband.
Andrew turned, gave a halfwave and walked away forever.
A year passed. Clare and John bought a modest terraced house in a quiet suburb of Leeds. Where Andrew was now, she never knew, and did not wish to know. For happiness, she learned, was not the promise of a man who would never return, but the steady presence of the one who stayed.
