Who did you have the baby with? Mrs. Margaret Bennett demanded, her voice sharp as a winter wind.
I told you, it was Mark! Emily replied, eyes wide with a nervous grin.
Its not about who the man was, its that you finally found someone to bear a child for! Margaret snapped, suspicion flickering in her gaze. Or are you saying you acted in a fit of passion?
Emily blushed. I got pregnant, thenWhat now?and the little boys first words were, Hello, mum.
Sweetheart, you can get knocked up by accident, but you cant accidentally give birth or carry a child, forgive me, thats impossible! Margaret chided, leaning in. Or are you suggesting you were in a state of frenzy?
Emilys lips pressed together. It wasnt like that. It happened when everything seemed fine.
Lord Almighty, youve been through those good times for five years now! Up and down, up and down! You should have realised long ago that a relationship with Mark is a dead end! Margaret exclaimed.
I thought hed changed, Emily protested.
A decent man can reform, not someone who behaves nicely one moment and makes you want to kill him the next! Margaret flailed her arms. Hes already drained you of nerves, yet you keep going back to him as if you cant decide!
Its like stepping on a rake. Others see the point right away, but you keep tripping over the same thing, even after youve had a son! Emily muttered.
If you dont like me coming back, I can leave, Emily said, hurt edging her tone.
To Mark? Margaret asked, laughing.
Emily smiled too. The idea of moving out seemed so absurd it wasnt even a consideration.
I could rent a flat, Emily offered. I have savings, even a little childs allowance. I wont disappear.
Fine, Margaret sighed. No ones chasing you. Whats your next move?
Well raise little Eli together, then Ill get him a garden job and go back to work, Emily said.
And what about his father?
Nothing yet, Emily shrugged. Mark wants to marry me and be the official dad, but
Hes not even on the birth certificate? Margaret asked, incredulous.
Whats the point of putting him there? What could he give the child? Hes all talk, a peacock, and I cant even compare him to anything! Emily snapped.
He promised me a car for the babys birth, and a flat if I agreed to be his wife. When he came last week to see his son, I asked, Do you want to see him? You know you have to support him. He handed me £5,000. The baby was only a month and a half old!
What about you? Margaret probed, eyes narrowing.
She only appeared at the climax of this tale. Emily had shoved Mark down the stairs with a filthy diaper, slamming the money into his collar and declaring it wouldnt even buy nappies. Then she drove him out.
The next day he called, demanding to see his son! I told him he must legally acknowledge paternity, or Id file a counterclaim for maintenance, Emily smirked. He fell silent.
Oh, Emily, Margaret shook her head. Where do you find men like that? Your first husband was a surprise, now Mark! He brings more trouble than anything else.
Im driving him away, Mother, but he wont go. I scolded, cursed, hurt him, and he brushed it off like water off a ducks back. Yet Im done with him! Hes all tongue, no substance.
Why did you even have his child? Margaret asked again, exasperated.
Mother, Im already thirtyfour
***
Emilys love life had become a running joke among friends. Whenever her name surfaced, people leaned in, fascinated by how uniquely tangled her romances were. Nature had gifted Emily beauty and a sharp mind, yet her taste in men was baffling.
Her first serious relationship began while she was still at university, moving in with a boxer named Boris in a cramped flat above a noisy pub. He was all muscle, no brain; his only hobby was punching bags.
What were you thinking? her mother had asked. Hes got no brain, only a throat for grunts!
I hoped hed work out both his biceps and his head, Emily defended.
Did you ever tell him you were only there to dance? Margaret teased, shaking her head. Or did you expect him to develop any sense?
Emily bristled. Boris followed her around, training obsessively, even staging a onemanagainsteveryone bout when he saw other men dancing nearby. After two years of that, he left the ring to make amends elsewhere.
Later she met Andrew, a tall, welleducated man who adored her. He was a hard worker, though his earnings barely matched Emilys, who made double what he did after graduation. Still, she hoped hed soon climb the corporate ladder, perhaps with a little nudge from her.
Andrew never balked at her advice; he even admitted Emily was smarter and more capable than he was, treating her as the head of the household. They married, the ceremony paid for by Emilys parents, because why should love be cheap?
Two years in, Andrew grew jealous of a colleague and took a night out with a coworker, thinking it was harmless flirtation. The next day, after a drunken scramble home, he assaulted Emily, leaving her in the hospital. The marriage collapsed, and Andrew barred her from their flat. She slept on a park bench before seeking refuge with a friend, while her belongings, jewellery, and the savings for a car vanished with him. He claimed ignorance, stating the flat contained only his things, and refused to return any compensation, prompting the police to intervene. The jewellery turned up in a rubbish heap, but the proof of Emilys ownership remained in the photos shed posted online.
When Andrew finally returned the money for the car, Emily withdrew her theft report, despite warnings that the man was a lost cause.
Now what? she asked herself. My second husband ends up in prison, as does the next bloke. Is this a pattern?
Then Mark appeared. For five years she never heard anyone call him anything else. She fell for him because, beneath his endless compliments and hollow promises, he seemed safehe never raised a hand.
Emily swore she would never again be a boxers punching bag. Mark, however, was a master of words and empty gestures, never willing to act.
Emily had moved from her hometown to a larger city for university and never left. She lived in a onebedroom flat on the fifth floor of a cheap panel block, saving every penny for a future home. When she began seeing Mark, she met his mother, who glowed with pride at Emilys beauty and intelligence, immediately declaring, Well remodel the flat, then Ill move in with my sister and leave it to you!
Three years passed and the renovation never materialised. Mark would live with his mother one week, then with Emily the next, shuffling between the two as if the flat were a stage. One day, feeling a sudden pang, Emily rushed to the bathroom of the future motherinlaw, only to discover the flat unchangedno paint, no new fixtures.
She decided to send Mark packing, but he crawled back, promising a surprise purchase of a house for them once they married. Emily, scarred by past betrayals, hesitated. After four years of broken promises, Mark finally sabotaged her birth control.
When Emily announced she was pregnant, Mark suddenly became overly attentive, showering her with money, as if fatherhood had finally sharpened his mind. His support lasted three months, just long enough for the abortion to become too late. He vanished for half a year, missing the birth and the hospital discharge, leaving Emily to notify him through mutual acquaintances, refusing to rely on social media.
Emily gave birth and, with her newborn, fled back to her mothers town. Mark turned up, pleading, Im the father, I want to see my son! I have a right! He never bothered to register the paternity officially.
Mother, Im thirtyfour now! When will I find a decent husband? Emily sighed.
Are you going to marry Mark? Margaret asked, surprised.
No, Emily brushed it off. Hes only a donor, nothing more. He wont take responsibility, and Ill get rid of him. At least I have my boy.
She thought of Marks health, his looks, his willingness to donatehe seemed a perfect candidate after all.
A knock interrupted them. Whos at the door? Emily called, stepping toward it.
Its me! Mark shouted from the hallway. You drove me away, but Im not angry. Can you spare some money for a ticket home?
What? Emily burst into laughter. You made a child and now you cant afford a fare? You cant even give me money for my own survival. Dont you dare ask for a ticket! Get out, or Ill file a harassment complaint!
Not my son, Mark scrambled, trying to peek into the flat. Its not on any record! If you want to be a father, support the child! Prove paternity in court, pay child support, or Ill strip you of parental rights forever.
Give me £1,500 and Ill leave, Mark pleaded miserably.
Emily tossed a few notes at his feet and slammed the door. He never returned.
With that sort of temperament, dear, Margaret mused, youll raise a fine lad, but youll never find a husband.
Emily shrugged. At least I have my sonwealth, happiness, a proper family without any Marks.
