The air was thick with everything unsaid as James stared at his phone.
“I won’t be able to pick you and the baby up from the hospital tomorrow—I’ve got plans,” he said, his voice crackling through the speaker like distant thunder. “Just call a cab.”
“You really picked your moment, didn’t you?” Emily’s grip tightened around the phone. “Right as Caroline enters the world, and suddenly you’re too busy? Let me guess—Oliver’s idea?”
“Keep your voice down, you’ll wake the kids,” James replied, his tone clipped.
“This isn’t about Oliver. It’s about us. Five years married, and the last three? A void. You didn’t even ask how the discharge went. Or how Caroline’s doing. Or Leo, for that matter.”
“Are you serious? I texted you three times this week saying we’d be discharged either today or tomorrow. Just yesterday, I told you—tomorrow at eleven! You even replied saying, ‘Got it.’”
Emily almost laughed.
“Three vague texts. One with an actual time. And somehow, it’s my fault you forgot?”
James sounded offended, like she’d wronged him.
“Well, you should’ve reminded me.”
She stared at the phone in disbelief, a newborn in one arm, the other shoving baby clothes into a bag.
“You’re unbelievable.”
“I’ve been swamped, alright?” he muttered. No apology. No regret.
Silence. Heavy and sharp.
Emily stayed still, her fingers tracing the soft curve of Caroline’s back.
“Look, bottom line—I can’t come. Got other stuff going on. Call a taxi.”
Emily inhaled slowly, heat rising beneath her skin.
“What on earth could be more important than picking up your wife and newborn?”
“Work’s a nightmare. Meetings moved. Deadlines. You’ll manage—you’re tough.”
That line again. The lazy excuse he pulled out anytime he didn’t want to show up.
“Of course,” she said quietly. Calm, too calm. “I’ll handle it.”
“Knew you would!” he said, almost cheerfully, then hung up before she could speak again.
Emily lowered the phone and stared out at the grey October sky. Something shifted inside her—clean, cold, decisive. No tears. Just clarity.
Caroline stirred, and Emily kissed her daughter’s forehead.
“I’ll handle it,” she repeated to herself. But this time, the words had steel.
She unlocked her phone, scrolling to a contact she hadn’t touched in months.
“Hey, Sarah? Are you free tomorrow morning?”
Five years ago, Emily met James at a work party. He was the confident sales director, and she, the quiet accountant. Six months later, she was married and had given up her job—his suggestion.
The first couple of years felt like a dream. Cozy flat, romantic getaways, a man who doted on her.
Then Leo was born.
James had wanted a son. Told everyone. But when the sleepless nights and colic came, he vanished into his work.
“Babe, I’ve got early meetings. Can’t be wrecked,” he’d say, closing the bedroom door while she rocked their crying son for hours.
A wall built itself between them. Brick by quiet brick.
She became a full-time mother; he became a ghost in his own home. Saturdays turned into “lads’ nights,” dinners out became client meetings.
She never complained. Just whispered into Leo’s hair, “Good thing you’ve got me.”
The second pregnancy caught them both off guard. James hesitated. Suggested she “think it through.” She didn’t.
The months were rough—nonstop nausea, swelling, eventual bed rest. Surprisingly, James’s mother, Margaret, stepped in to help.
“James’s father was the same,” she told Emily. “Men in this family—married to the job.”
Caroline arrived two weeks early. Complications. Cord around her neck. Everything a blur. When the baby finally cried, Emily collapsed into sleep.
James came on day three. Flowers in hand, already talking about work.
“Leo’s with Mum,” he said, glancing at his watch.
Two days later, he showed up again. Same routine.
“Got a meeting. Love you!”
Sarah was waiting outside the hospital with a bouquet. When she hugged Emily, something inside her loosened.
“Let’s see her,” Sarah said, peeking into the bundle. “What’s her name?”
“Caroline. James picked it.”
The ride home was silent. That eerie calm from James’s call still hadn’t lifted.
Two notes waited on the kitchen table. One from Margaret: “Dinner’s in the oven, back by three.”
And one from James: “Last-minute trip to Manchester. Back in three days. J.”
Not even a call.
“Go rest,” Sarah said, scooping Caroline into her arms. “I’ve got her.”
Later, after the baby had settled, Sarah asked gently,
“How long’s he been… not really there?”
“Years,” Emily said quietly. “It started with work. Then projects. Now it’s just… absences.”
Leo ran in, beaming.
“Mummy! Where’s Daddy? And my baby sister?”
“Daddy’s away. Sister’s sleeping,” she said, pulling him into a hug.
That night, over mugs of tea, Emily finally admitted,
“Today’s the first day I’ve actually thought about divorce. Isn’t that awful? Two kids.”
“When Pete and I split, I thought it was the end of the world,” Sarah said. “Then I realized it was just… a different kind of life.”
She picked up her phone.
“Let me call the girls. It’s been too long.”
“Why?”
“Because you need support. And friends.”
The next day, Lucy knocked on the door.
“Been meaning to visit,” she said. “Sarah told me James is… away again?”
“Same story,” Emily muttered.
That evening, Rachel called.
“Heard the crib needs assembling. Tom and I are coming over.”
They arrived with tools and cake.
“Does he always vanish like this?” Rachel asked.
“Always,” Sarah answered.
“When Lily was born, I took a month off,” Tom said. “Couldn’t imagine leaving Rachel alone.”
Emily remembered the nights with Leo, and James on the other side of a closed door.
“Have you ever told him how you really feel?” Tom asked. “Or have you just… let it slide?”
“I haven’t,” she admitted. “It just sort of… happened.”
“Nothing just happens,” Rachel said. “We choose our lives. Even when we act like we don’t.”
That night, Emily couldn’t sleep. Rachel’s words echoed in her mind.
We choose our lives.
Three days after being discharged, Emily sat at the table and made a list:
What’s Next:
- Call a solicitor.
- Reach out to old boss—ask about remote work.
- Review finances.
She texted her former manager:
“Hi! Any chance you’re hiring for remote invoicing work?”
The reply was instant:
“Emily! Yes! We’ve been looking. When can you start?”
“Couple weeks. Just had baby number two.”
“Even better. Let’s talk tomorrow.”