“Heartbroken, Not Defeated: The Story of a Woman Who Had to Start Over”
“Edward, I’m pregnant!” Emily announced the moment she stepped through the door, leaving her husband no time to guess. He froze, glanced away, and exhaled. “Well… if that’s how it is,” he muttered, kissing her cheek as if hiding from his own feelings.
Emily had fallen for Edward while she was still at university. He worked at the firm where she did her internship—young, handsome, already a deputy department head. To her, he seemed from another world. A shy girl from the countryside, she never imagined he’d notice her. But on her last day, he approached her himself, handed her a box of chocolates, and asked her to meet that evening. That was where their story began.
On their first date, he confessed he’d grown up without parents. His mother remarried and left, leaving him to be raised by his grandmother. Emily didn’t mention that her own parents had never shown her warmth—just coldness and indifference. Both knew loneliness, and perhaps that was why they grew so close so quickly.
Within a month, Emily moved into Edward’s rented flat. Then came the wedding—quiet, humble, but full of hope. They dreamed of a future, of their own home, of a peaceful life. The only thing dividing them was children. Emily had longed for a baby, but Edward kept putting it off: “We’re fine as we are—why rush?”
When the test showed two lines, Emily hesitated for days before telling him. She feared judgment, but finally gathered her courage.
“We’re going to be parents—are you happy?” she asked.
“I thought this would come later,” he replied, unable to hide his disappointment.
He didn’t attend the first scan, waiting in the car instead. Emily returned with tear-filled eyes, glowing with joy—twins. Two tiny hearts beating inside her.
“Twins?!” Edward went pale. “No. This wasn’t the plan. Have an abortion.”
“Have you lost your mind?! I’ve seen our children… I could never,” she sobbed.
She hoped he’d come around, but he only grew more distant. He criticised her weight, said she’d let herself go. She tried to ignore it, but after the twins were born, it only got worse.
Sophie and Charlotte became the centre of her world. Edward, meanwhile, stayed late at work, withdrew, refused to help. Emily endured it—for the children, for love, for the family.
When the girls turned eighteen months old, she mentioned returning to work. Edward sat across from her, staring at the floor.
“You’ll find out soon enough… There’s someone else. I’m leaving. I won’t abandon the girls, but I want to live with her.”
Emily went numb.
“You swore you’d never do what your parents did!” she choked out.
He left. At first, he visited, then vanished entirely. Emily was alone—no money, no support. Return to her village? No work there. Stay here? Nowhere to live.
Her boss stepped in, securing her a room in company housing. A tiny space, barely repaired, two small children—she managed. One evening, struggling with the pram on the stairs, she heard a voice:
“Let me help. I’m Thomas. I live nearby.”
He helped without prying. Later, he fixed things around the flat, picked the girls up from nursery. Emily kept her distance at first—afraid—but slowly, Thomas became part of their lives.
He was steady, reliable. Betrayed too—his wife had left him for a friend when she learned he couldn’t father children. Now here were two little girls he’d come to love as his own.
When he proposed, Emily refused.
“I have children. You could find a woman without burdens.”
“I want you. And they aren’t burdens—they’re family.”
They married. A week later, Edward reappeared.
“Emily, I’m sorry. I’ve realised my mistake. Let’s start over.”
“Too late. I’m married. My girls have a father now—a real one.”
Thomas stepped around the corner.
“Meet my husband.”
Edward turned away with a dismissive wave and left—for good.
A year passed. Emily and Thomas bought their own home. Where Edward was now, she neither knew nor cared. Because happiness isn’t about the one who made promises—it’s about the one who stayed.
