The husband never once set foot in the maternity ward, not even a phone call. Emilys mother, with a quiet dignity, drove her from the hospital in a modest Austin. Emily had braced herself for the inevitable, yet the sting remainednot for herself, but for the tiny boy shed been carrying, a longawaited son who was being greeted by a world that seemed to reject him.
She had clung to the hope that, when James saw his child, something would stir in his chesta primal bond, a glimpse of himself in the infants eyes. Instead, he averted his gaze, his silence louder than any accusation.
Twelve years had slipped by, a dozen seasons of what Emily believed to be a happy marriage, soultosoul. Their fifteenyear age gap had never been a hurdle. Theyd met in the planning department of a municipal office in Birmingham, fresh from university. James, a widower of a failed marriage with no children, had wrapped Emily in attention and courtesy, courting her with the charm of a gentleman from a bygone era. Their wedding felt like a fairytale: smart, industrious, kind, handsome, and fairminded.
But the very trait that made James admirablehis razorsharp sense of justiceproved a shadow over Emilys life. Deep down she sensed that his righteousness could tip into quarrelsomeness, yet it was too late to reshape him. He never stayed at one job; one week hed clash with a boss, the next hed scoff at a demand he deemed unreasonable, drifting from post to post. Periods of unemployment stretched long, while Emily, steadfast and diligent, climbed the ranks to deputy head of her department, her salary in pounds enough to keep the lights on and the kettle boiling.
Emily longed for a child, but months turned into years of empty scans. Doctors assured them both were healthy; the baby just wouldnt come. Despair settled like a cold fog until, at last, a miracle blossomed. She beamed with joy, her voice trembling as she told James the news. His reaction shattered her.
With a cold, lingering hatred, he spat, I dont need this child now. If Im fifty, Im not going to play the young dad and be the laughingstock of everyone. I want a quiet old age. He rattled off his grievances: Do you realise youre dragging this family into poverty? My pension wont stretch to feed a baby. Im too old to chase sidejobs. He gave her an ultimatum: keep the baby and he would walk out, because the flat was legally his.
Emily was crushed. After twelve years of shared life, those words hit like a sledgehammer. She had sensed his aversion to children, but never imagined such a visceral rejection of his own. The shock turned her world upside down, the foundation of her marriage crumbling before her eyes.
She tried in vain to pierce his hardened shell, but his barbs grew sharpercalling her foolish, mocking her sickness, blaming her for every ill turn. With her mother living alone in a cottage on the outskirts of York, Emily moved in with her. James vanished from her life as if hed never existed, no calls, no visits. Mere weeks before the birth, a summons arrived: James had filed for divorce, and the court postponed the hearing, leaving the dissolution of their marriage hanging over her like a storm cloud.
Emily never regretted defying James and bringing her son into the world. He may have chased a tranquil retirement; she, still in the bloom of her thirties, could raise the boy on her own. The child became the apple of discord, proving that while children are often said to cement a marriage, sometimes they tear it asunder.
