**When Fate Offers a Second Chance**
“Why are you home so early?” muttered Oliver, fumbling with his inside-out shirt. But Eleanor wasn’t listening. She stood frozen in the hallway, knuckles white, staring at the red heels by the door. Not just any heels—they belonged to Charlotte, her oldest friend. She knew them instantly. She’d seen them in too many photos, clinking wine glasses. But she never expected to see them in her own flat.
It started that morning at work when Eleanor suddenly felt ill—dizzy, nauseous. She brushed it off as exhaustion or stress, until her colleague, Emily, leaned in and whispered, “You’re not pregnant, are you?”
“Don’t be silly,” Eleanor scoffed, but her stomach twisted. She *knew* something was wrong. Twenty minutes later, she was clutching a pregnancy test with two unmistakable lines.
She barely remembered leaving her boss’s office or rushing home, desperate to tell Oliver, to see his face light up, to collapse into his arms. But then—
The moment she turned the key, flicked on the light, there they were: those damned shoes. Seconds later, hushed whispers from the bedroom. She prayed she was wrong, that it was some absurd mistake—until she flung open the door and found Oliver half-dressed, Charlotte clutching the sheets to her chest.
“Eleanor? What the—?” he stammered, while Charlotte stared at the floor, silent.
Everything blurred after that—screaming, tears, belongings hurled across the room. Then silence. Emptiness. Eleanor sat alone on the shattered flat’s floor, arms wrapped around her stomach, around the tiny life inside.
Days passed before she made her choice. She couldn’t bear a lifelong tie to Oliver. She couldn’t face single motherhood—her parents miles away, her friends now one fewer. Her salary wouldn’t cover nappies, let alone a nanny. So she booked an appointment at a private clinic.
Sitting in the waiting room, she stared blankly at the wall. Terrified. She didn’t want this baby—and yet, she did, more than anything.
“Come in,” called a voice.
She stepped inside—then froze. Her heart lurched.
“William? Is that you?”
Her childhood sweetheart. Her first love. The boy whose farewell kiss at graduation had lingered in her memory as the softest thing she’d ever known.
“Eleanor? Bloody hell!” William stood, embracing her like an old friend.
They talked for ten minutes as if no time had passed. When the laughter faded, William grew serious. “But you’re here for a reason. What’s wrong?”
Haltingly, she confessed everything—the betrayal, the pregnancy, her decision.
“And you’re certain this is what you want?” he asked gently.
“I—I don’t know. I’m scared. I can’t do it alone…”
*Sometimes, the universe throws you a lifeline—not to test your strength, but to remind you it’s there.*
