**Diary Entry**
I cant believe its come to this. Anton left mejust walked out, taking hardly anything but his laptop and what little dignity he had left. And then, as if the day couldnt get worse, my mother-in-law showed up.
Little Emily had finally fallen asleep in my arms, but I couldnt tear myself away from the window. An hour had passed since I watched his car disappear down the street. Part of me kept waiting, foolishly hoping hed change his mind, that hed come back and say it was all a stupid joke. But no. He was gone.
Hed come home from work earlier that evening, and something felt off immediately. I was in the kitchen when I realised he hadnt followed me in. When I stepped into the living room, he was shoving clothes into a bag.
“Where are you going?” I asked, my voice barely steady.
“Im leaving. For good. Theres someone else,” he said, not even looking at me.
“Anton, this isnt funny. Did something happen at work? Are you going away for business?”
“For Gods sake, listen to me. Im done. Youve got nothing in your head but Emily. You dont even look at me anymore.”
“Keep your voice downyoull wake her.”
“See? There you go again. Your husbands walking out, and all you care about is the baby.”
“A real man wouldnt abandon his wife and child,” I whispered before slipping into Emilys room.
I knew him too wellif I kept arguing, it would turn into a screaming match. Tears burned in my eyes, but I refused to let him see them. I scooped Emily up and carried her to the kitchen. At least he wouldnt follow me in therenothing of his was left to take.
Through the window, I watched him drive away without so much as a glance back. I stayed there all night, numb. Who could I even call? Mum had barely acknowledged me since my weddingher golden child had always been my younger brother, Daniel. My friends? They were mums like me, probably asleep by now. What could they do, anyway?
By dawn, exhaustion finally pulled me under. When I tried calling Anton, he hung up and texted, *Dont contact me again.*
Emily fussed, snapping me back to reality. No time to fall apart. She needed me. I had to figure out how to survive.
The numbers in my wallet and bank account made my stomach twist. Even if the landlady let me delay rent for five days, it wouldnt be enough. And food? I couldve picked up remote work, but Anton took his laptop.
I had two weeks to find a solution.
By the time Id called every contact I had, reality hitno one would hire me with a baby. Even cleaning jobs required childcare, and I had no one. Moving to a cheaper flat wouldnt helpwe were already in the most affordable place. The only option was Mums, but Daniel, his wife, and their twins already crammed into her two-bedroom. Five people. Add Emily and me? Impossible.
I told the landlady Id leave when my rent ran out. Shared housing was the next best option, but the places Id seen were grim. I messaged Anton, begging for help with Emilys expenses. No reply. Probably blocked.
Five days left. I was packing when the doorbell rang.
Standing there was MargaretAntons mother.
My heart sank. *What now?*
Margaret and I had never gotten along. From the moment we met, she made it clear I wasnt good enough for her son. The rare visits were torturecriticism over dust, disdain for my cooking. When Emily was born, she questioned if Anton was even the father. Only after six months did she soften, recognising his features in her.
Anton had always excused her, saying she raised him alone, that she was just protective. Id tolerated it. But now, here she wasafter hed left. Here to gloat, I assumed.
“Pack your things. Quickly,” she said, stepping inside.
“II dont understand.”
“You heard me. You and Emily are coming with me.”
“To *you*?”
“Where else? Your mothers, with that circus of a household? Ive got a three-bed. Theres space.”
I had no choice.
Her house was intimidating at first. But she showed us to a roomclean, warm. Once Emily was asleep, I hesitantly joined her in the kitchen.
“Lena,” she sighed, “I know weve never been close. But I hope you can forgive me.”
“You just wanted the best for Anton.”
She scoffed. “No, I was selfish. Today, he called metold me everything. Im sorry I raised a man like him. His father left when he was three months old. He *knew* how hard it was. And yet he repeated it.” Her voice cracked. “Stay as long as you need.”
I never imagined shed take my side. Tears spilled over, despite my efforts.
“None of that,” she said, firm but not unkind. “Well manage. Roof over our heads, food on the table. When you find work, Ill mind Emily.”
From that day, we became inseparable. She wasnt perfectold habits surfaced sometimesbut she tried.
A year later, the flat was decked in balloons for Emilys birthday. A homemade apple pie sat on the table.
Just as Emily took her first wobbly steps, the doorbell rang.
Margaret answeredand froze.
Anton stood there, some woman beside him.
“Mum,” he said casually, as if he hadnt vanished for months. “We need a place to stay.”
Margaret didnt flinch. “No. You dont live here anymore.”
He pushed past her, spotting Emily and me at the table. “Whats *she* doing here?”
“Your *wife*,” Margaret snapped. “And your daughter, whose birthday it isnot that you remembered.”
Anton sneered. “Is she even mine?”
Margaret pointed to the door. “Get out.”
He hesitated. “If I leave now, its for good.”
She didnt answer. Just shut the door behind him.
Later, I found her staring out the window.
“Mum are you alright? I can go if”
“Hes my son,” she said quietly. “But hes done wrong. Wives come and gochildren dont. He knew better.”
Four years passed.
“Lena,” Margaret teased one evening, “how long will you hide this new man of yours?”
I flushed. Shed guessed.
“Bring him round. As long as he treats you and Emily right, hes welcome.”
She was at our weddinggenuinely happy for me, for *us*. And when my son with David was born, she cradled him like her own. Because to her, he was.
Anton married that womanAngela, I think. They moved away. Margaret still checks on him through distant relatives. Hes her son, after all.
But now? Now shes got a daughter. And two grandchildren.
For now, at least. Shes hopeful for more.
Love, after all, isnt something that runs out.
