When Fate Offers a Second Chance
“Why are you home so early?” Alex muttered in confusion, buttoning his shirt inside out. But Marina wasn’t listening. She stood in the hallway, fingers clenched painfully tight, staring at the red shoes by the door. Not just any shoes—they belonged to Imogen, her oldest friend. She’d recognize them anywhere, having seen them in countless photos, perched under wine glasses. But she never expected to see them in her own flat.
It had started that morning at work, when Marina felt suddenly ill. A rush of nausea, her vision darkening. At first, she blamed exhaustion or stress. Then her colleague, Ann, leaned in and whispered, “You’re not pregnant, are you?”
“No, why would I—” Marina brushed it off, but something inside her twisted. She knew. Twenty minutes later, she stood in the office loo, gripping a pregnancy test with two bold lines.
She barely remembered walking into her boss’s office. Barely remembered leaving at all. The only thought in her mind was racing home to tell Alex. She wanted to see his face, to embrace him, to cry from sheer joy. But—
The key turned in the lock. She stepped inside, flicked on the light. And there they were—those shoes. A second later, hushed whispers drifted from the bedroom. For a fleeting moment, she hoped it was a mistake. Some absurd coincidence. But when she flung the door open, she found her husband half-dressed, Imogen clutching the bedsheet to her chest.
“Marina? What—?” Alex stammered, while Imogen stared at the floor, silent.
What followed was a blur—shrieks, tears, objects hurled across the room. Then silence. Emptiness. Marina sat alone in the shattered remains of their home, arms wrapped around her belly, where a tiny life fluttered.
Days later, she made her choice. She refused to be tied to Alex. She refused to be a single mother. Her parents were miles away, her circle of friends now one smaller. Her salary wouldn’t cover diapers, let alone a nanny. So she went to a private clinic.
She sat outside the doctor’s office, staring blankly at the wall. Fear coiled in her chest. She didn’t want this child—and yet, she did, more than anything.
“Come in!” called a voice from behind the door.
She stood, stepped inside—then froze.
“Anthony?! Is that you?”
Her old schoolmate. Her first love. The boy she’d never truly forgotten. His soft kiss on her cheek at graduation—still her gentlest memory.
“Marina? Bloody hell, is it really you?” Anthony rose, embracing her warmly, like an old friend.
They talked for ten minutes as if no time had passed. When the rush of emotions settled, he asked, “But you’re here for an appointment. What’s wrong?”
Marina hesitated, then confessed everything—the betrayal, the pregnancy, her decision.
“And you really want to… end it?” Anthony murmured.
“Yes… I’m scared. I can’t do this alone…”
