**Diary Entry**
I shouldve known better than to expect sympathy.
Laras voice on the phone was thick with false pity. “Im sorry, love, but weve all got kids to think about. We dont want trouble. Especially not this kind.”
“What on earth are you on about?” I snapped, though the words barely registered. It felt like someone had dumped a bin over my headfilthy, cold, humiliating.
“We all feel for you, honestly,” she carried on, tiptoeing around the truth. “But no one wants to take risks. Not with your situation.”
I could tell she didnt mean to hurt me. She was just protecting her own. In a way, I understood.
But that wasnt the point.
“Its not contagious!” I nearly shouted. “Whered you even get that idea?”
Lara hesitated. “Well weve all heard. About your husband. And what he gave you.”
“You know nothing! Yes, I had issues, but Im fine now!”
“Sorry, but from what I gather its permanent. We just cant take the chance,” she said weakly. “Youd do the same in my shoes. No hard feelings, yeah?”
The line went dead. I dropped the phone like it had burned me.
Six months. Six months since my friends had slowly erased me from their lives. The odd “How are you?” text, but nothing more. No invitesnot even for birthdays. Id seen the photos, though. Crowded tables, laughter, glasses raised. They hadnt gone quiet. Just quiet around *me*.
Had I offended someone? Was there some rumour I didnt know about? It stung that no one had even bothered to ask.
So I called Lara. And now I wished I hadnt.
They all acted like I had the plague.
I let my head drop. I knew exactly where this started. The memory hit me like a slap.
A silent flat. Soup going cold on the hob. Unread messages in our chatall from me. Paul was *always* working late.
At first, Id been furious. Then, just anxious. Eventually, numb. I got used to him slipping in after midnight.
“Mad rush for loans. Everyones scrambling to start businessesworks insane,” hed say.
But it wasnt just the hours. He started trimming his beard more. Never left his phone unattended. Jumped at every call from colleagues, even on weekends. No complaints. And the haircutsPaul, who used to put it off for months.
I noticed. I just ignored it. A rough patch, thats all. Then the pain started. At first, I Googled, hoped it was nothing. But it didnt go away.
The doctors words changed everything. Not fatal. Not forever. But
“Sorry, but you must be mistaken. Ive only ever been with my husband. Unless could I have caught it on the bus or something?”
“Love, theres only one way this happens,” he said, like I was slow. “Youll want to ask your husband.”
I sat on the bench outside, staring at the floor. The walk home blurred.
The fight with Paul was short. First, he lied. Denied everything. Then
“*You* probably brought it in and blamed me!”
Then the truth. There was someone else. No remorse.
“Im exhausted, and youre nagging for attention. What did you expect?” A shrug. “You saw how things were between us. You did nothing.”
By the end, he wasnt angry. Just indifferent. “Can we fix this?”
“Nothing to fix, Paul. Not after your little *gift*. Were done.”
The divorce was easy. No kids, no shared assets. He almost seemed relieved.
I thought that was the worst of it. Then the follow-up.
“Youre stable now,” the doctor said. “But fertility might be an issue.”
“You mean I cant have children?”
“Lets say chances are slim.”
Translation: none. My cousin, a nurse, was blunter. “If you get pregnant, itll be a miracle.”
Thats when my dream shattered.
I grew up with three brotherschaos, bickering, stolen sweets. They teased me but always had my back. I wanted that for my own kids. Now I sat alone in my silent flat, replaying the doctors words.
That night, I broke. I called Katy. Wed been inseparable since primary school.
“Kat be my shoulder to cry on tonight?”
Wed done this before. Her mums rows, her exs temper, the day her terrier diedId listened to it all, chocolate bars and silent hugs at the ready.
“I might never have kids,” I said when she arrived.
“You sure? Did they say its definite?”
“No. But the way they spoke like they were softening the blow.”
“Medicines amazing these days,” she said quickly. “And theres always adoption.”
I sobbed into her shoulder about Paul, about the future Id lost.
“Im so scared of ending up alone,” I whispered.
“Youre not. Youve got your parents, your brothers. *Me*.”
By morning, I was calm. As she left, I made her promise.
“Dont tell anyone.”
“Course not! Your secrets safe with me.”
Turns out, that “secret” spread faster than gossip at a pub. Only Katy couldve blabbed. I hadnt even told my family. Paul certainly wouldnt.
After Laras call, I rang Katy.
“Al! Long time,” she said, too bright.
“Yeah. Wonder why,” I bit out.
Silence.
“What dyou mean?”
“Dont play dumb. Everyone acts like Ive got the plague. *You* were the only one who knew.”
A sigh. “Al I didnt say *what* was wrong. Just told Annie you had lady issues. She mustve filled in the blanks.”
“You *told* her? After I begged you not to?”
“I didnt think itd snowball! I just wanted her to check on you. You looked rough.”
I shut my eyes. Good intentions, disastrous results.
“You dont help by sharing my pain. I *trusted* you.”
“Im sorry! I just couldnt stop it once it started. I didnt mean to”
“Not meaning to makes it worse, Kat. Youre just a gossip.”
I hung up, hugged a pillow. My phone stayed silent. No more invites, no more memes from the group chat.
Id thought these people were my safety net. Turns out, it was all loose threads.
*Pillows the best friend youve got*, I thought bitterly. Silent. Steady. Never betrays you.
