I was hoping for a quiet baby, James shouted, slamming the bedroom door. Just shut up already! Im fed up!
Poppy sighed and pressed her small son, Tommy, tighter against her chest. The sixmonthold wailed nonstop, his little face flushed from the strain. She rocked him gently, humming a lullaby, but the infant showed no sign of calming.
Come on, little one, settle down, she whispered, rubbing his back. Mums here, everythings alright.
The past months had been a relentless blur of sleepless nights and constant worry. Tommy was a nervous little fellow, often ill and waking at odd hours. Poppy had thrown herself into motherhood, while James seemed to live in a parallel world where a crying baby and responsibility simply didnt exist.
As she rocked, Poppys thoughts drifted back to yesterdays chat with her friend Claire over coffee.
Does he ever help you at home? Claire had asked.
Help? Hes either at work, out with his mates, or staying with his mother. He only comes home to crash on the sofa, Poppy had replied, shaking her head. And money? He knows Im on maternity leave.
That question made Poppy smile bitterly.
Sometimes he chips in, but its never enough. Diapers, formula, medicines they cost a fortune.
Now, with Tommy finally asleep, Poppy set him gently in his cot, slipped out of the nursery and padded to the kitchen. The flat was silent; James was already snoring in the living room.
The next two weeks turned into a nightmare. Tommy stopped sleeping through the night, his cries echoing through every room. Poppy was a wreck, barely standing on her feet, while James, returning in the early hours, grew more irritable.
Are you doing this on purpose? he snarled one night, yanking the pillow from under his head. Why cant you calm him? I need my sleep!
Im trying! Hes just a baby, his teeth are hurting, Poppy replied, still rocking.
James grabbed the blanket and trudged to the door.
Do I even matter then? Im heading to the guest room. Fix the crying, will you?
Days blended into each other. James showed up less often, and Poppy barely found the energy to speak to him.
One evening, after a brief walk, Poppy opened the front door to find James standing in the hallway, a travel bag in his hand.
Whats happening? she asked.
James didnt look at either her or Tommy.
Im going to my mums, he said, zipping his bag. Im not staying here while the kid still needs a proper home. Ill be back when hes older.
Poppys heart hammered.
Youre joking, right?
No, James replied, still avoiding eye contact. I want a decent nights sleep. This place is impossible the baby never stops screaming and you do nothing.
Poppy carefully adjusted the stroller so she wouldnt wake Tommy, crossed her arms, and said, Remember you wanted this child? You said it was the right time and wed face it together.
James shrugged. I didnt think itd be this hard. I expected a normal, calm baby.
He grabbed his bag and walked past her to the door. Ill call you later, he muttered, and left.
Poppy stood in the hallway, stunned, for several minutes before shuffling to the kitchen and collapsing into a chair. Tears streamed down her cheeks, though she didnt even notice them.
The next day she called her mother.
Mum, its Poppy, she said, voice trembling. James has left. He said hell return when Tommys older.
What do you mean left? her mother, Margaret, replied sharply. Hes not a father then. File for divorce and demand maintenance. Dont wait around!
For two weeks Poppy clung to the hope of a phone call, unwilling to tear the family apart too quickly. The line stayed silent. James vanished as if hed never existed.
Poppy decided shed had enough and made a decision
When she returned home, James was already waiting.
What did you do? Why are you filing for divorce? Im the father!
Poppy smirked.
Father? Youve been away for almost a month, never called, never asked about Tommy.
I just needed a break. I needed time to think.
She turned away.
I needed a husband, not a coward who runs when things get tough. I can manage everything on my own. I dont need a husband like you.
Their divorce was swift. Poppy secured maintenance from James. Tommys first year passed without his dads presence; James phoned once a month or two, asking how things were.
When Tommy turned one and a half, he settled down a bit, and James began to appear more often, asking to join weekend outings, insisting on the threeofakind.
I want to be part of my sons life. Give me a chance, he pleaded.
She agreed, not wanting to deprive Tommy of a father. That arrangement lasted another six months.
After a café visit and a stroll, they returned to Poppys flat. James asked to use the bathroom to wash his hands. Poppy nodded, tended to Tommychanging his diaper, dressing him in comfy clothes, and placing him in the playpen with toys.
A furious shout came from the bathroom.
Poppy! Whats this? Explain yourself!
James emerged, toothbrush in hand, face red with anger.
Why are there two toothbrushes? Explain!
Poppy shrugged.
This is my boyfriends toothbrush. He sometimes stays over. Whats the problem?
Jamess face twisted.
Youre cheating on me? Not even ashamed?
Cheating? Poppy blinked, astonished. James, weve been divorced for over a year.
Divorce is just paperwork! James waved the brush. Im helping with the child. I thought when Tommy grew up Id come back and propose again!
Poppy stared, unfazed.
Ive tolerated you only for Tommys sake. I fell out of love with you long ago, when you first left.
James continued his tirade.
Youve ruined our solid family, denied my son a real father, and now you bring some stranger into the house!
Tommy, frightened by the shouting, began to whimper in the playpen. Poppy scooped him up.
This stranger, as you call him, has been a great support, she said softly, calming her son. I met him three months after the divorce. I was working from home, exhausted, and we bumped into each other at the corner shop. Hes helped me get back on my feet.
She patted Tommys head. Harry has become my rock. Youre just a man who pops in now and then. To me, youre nothing more than an empty space.
James turned crimson, flung the toothbrush onto the floor, and headed for the door.
Youll regret this, he hissed.
After that, he kept his distance, always finding a reason to needle Poppy.
Mums bad, isnt she? he whispered to Tommy. She split us up. Soon your mum will see what shes done and fix everything.
Poppy endured, but finally she could not take it any longer.
Listen to me, she said, once Tommy was asleep in the stroller after a walk. I will never go back to you, even if Harry and I part ways. Youre not the person I can rely on.
Youre useless! James snapped back. A baby on your back and a temperament like a viper.
After that exchange, James stopped contacting his son. He vanished from Tommys life, and Poppy felt a strange reliefshe had long suspected he wanted a convenient lifestyle, not a family.
For three months there was no word from him. Poppy watched Tommy building towers of blocks with Harry, laughing as Harry tossed him gently into the air.
One afternoon Harry took her hand.
Poppy Ive wanted to ask this for ages. Will you marry me?
She smiled, with no need for hesitation.
Yes.
That night Poppy tucked Tommy into bed and realized she no longer thought about James. A new chapter began, free of past mistakes.
She learned that sometimes the hardest battles bring the strongest allies, and that true partnership is built on respect, not on desperation or convenience. The real lesson: a life worth living is one you shape with people who lift you up, not those who drag you down.
