A Creative Spirit with a Love for Drama
“Don’t you regret it?” asked Max, his arm wrapped around Polly, who nestled against his chest.
“No. Do you?” Polly lifted her head and looked at her husband.
“I’m happy. You know, when you first came into our lives—mine and Lizzie’s—I knew right away it was fate. Everything that happened before you… it all led me to you. After my wife—”
Polly pressed a finger to his lips.
“Don’t think about the past. Everything’s good now…”
**One Year Earlier**
Polly spread the festive tablecloth over the dining table, then carried in a tray of plates, forks, and two wine glasses from the kitchen.
“Are you sure staying home was the right call? It would’ve been livelier at Tom’s place. We could still join them,” said Daniel as Polly returned to the kitchen.
“I’m sure. Take this out.” She handed him a plate of sliced ham and cheese along with a salad bowl. “We’ll see our friends tomorrow. Three years together, and we’ve never spent New Year’s Eve just the two of us. How you ring in the new year sets the tone for the next twelve months.”
“So, you’re programming us for a year of just us?” Daniel paused in the doorway.
“It would be lovely. Shame it won’t last,” Polly sighed.
“Alright, let’s give it a go.” Daniel relented and carried the food out.
Polly grabbed a bottle of champagne from the fridge, another salad bowl, and followed him.
“Well? I think it looks nice.” Daniel gestured to the table settings. “Can we start saying goodbye to the old year? I’m practically drooling.”
“Not yet. Five minutes. I need to change into my new dress and freshen up.” Polly headed for the bedroom.
“Why bother with a new dress if it’s just us?” Daniel muttered, snagging a slice of ham from the plate.
“Because it’s a celebration!” Polly called back.
*This creative spirit with her love for drama*, Daniel thought irritably, grabbing another bite.
Minutes later, Polly emerged in a bright blue dress, her curls cascading over her shoulders.
Daniel nodded approvingly, watching as she spun on her heels, the skirt flaring before settling.
“Now we can say goodbye to the old year properly,” she said cheerfully, glancing at the clock.
“Bloody hell, there’s enough food for an army. Should we call Mark? He’s home with his mum,” Daniel suggested, sitting down.
“Ring him tomorrow. Pop the champagne.” Polly beamed.
*She’s acting odd tonight*, Daniel thought as he twisted the cork.
“You seem…” he hesitated, searching for the word, “wired.”
“A bit. You’ll find out why soon.” The news bubbled up inside her, but she’d wait for midnight. New Year’s was the perfect moment for happy announcements.
They clinked glasses, nibbled at the salads. Daniel leaned back, full, as a light-hearted film played on the telly.
“You’ve barely touched yours,” he noted, nodding at her still-full glass.
“It’ll make me sleepy. I want to watch the countdown.”
“I’m stepping out for a smoke.” Daniel headed to the balcony.
Snowflakes drifted down, twinkling in the glow of fairy lights from neighbouring houses. Fireworks crackled in the distance, cheers rising from the street.
“Dan, come in! The PM’s about to speak!” Polly called.
Daniel took a last drag, flicked the stub away, and stepped inside. The Prime Minister’s speech droned on as Daniel half-listened, refilling his glass, waiting for Big Ben’s chime. His mind buzzed with too many wishes.
“Still not drinking?” he asked, spotting her untouched glass. “How will you make a wish?”
“Dan, there’s something I need to tell you.” Polly straightened. “Maybe top up yours first?”
She waited as he poured, then continued.
“This New Year… we’re not just two anymore. There’s three of us now.” Her eyes sparkled.
Daniel stared blankly.
“Don’t you get it? I’m pregnant. We’re having a baby. Well, we already are—just a tiny one.” The words tumbled out.
Daniel drained his glass, set it down.
“Aren’t you happy?” Polly pressed, frustration creeping in.
“I am, but…” he dragged a hand through his hair, “we agreed to wait.”
“We’ve been together three years. I’m twenty-eight. I want this.” Her voice wavered. “Why wait? It’s already happening.”
“But… you were on the pill.”
“I stopped last month. It usually takes longer, but… isn’t it wonderful?” Her enthusiasm faltered.
“That’s why you didn’t go to Tom’s with Laura?”
“Yes. Honestly, I thought… maybe you’d propose after.” Her voice dropped. “Well, now there’s only one thing left…” Tears spilled down her cheeks. “You can still make it to Tom’s.” She bolted to the kitchen.
“Polly, I didn’t say I wasn’t happy—just shocked!” He chased her.
She threw open the balcony door, gripping the frame. “Don’t be daft, it’s freezing!” He yanked the door back, nearly pulling her into the room.
“Why didn’t you tell me you stopped the pills?”
“Because you’d talk me out of it again! This isn’t a real family, Dan. Just convenience for you!” She sobbed. “Go on, have your fun!” She fled to the bathroom.
Fireworks boomed outside, laughter ringing in the streets.
“Sorry I ruined your expectations. I’m not ready…” He leaned against the door. The shower drowned his words.
Back in the room, he stared at the table, her full glass. He grabbed it, drank. *New Year’s, and it’s all gone to hell. Why’d she do this? We were fine. Ruined the whole night.* Anger simmered. *Fine. I’m not sitting here watching her cry.* He grabbed his coat and left.
Polly heard the slam and wept harder. Tears stained her blue dress as she cleared the table, changed, and curled up on the sofa. The New Year’s concert played to an empty room.
Daniel didn’t return that night, or the next day. Her friend Emily dragged the truth out of her.
“Men always panic about kids. He’ll come back. Should I talk to him?”
“No. Just go. I won’t do anything stupid.”
Three days later, Daniel slunk back, full of excuses. But the silence between them stretched through the holidays. His phone buzzed constantly.
“Nothing to say?” Polly finally asked.
“What do you want to hear? Fine, I’m leaving. You tricked me.”
“Then go.” She turned away.
“I thought you’d snap out of it.”
“Wanting a baby is ‘snapping out of it’?”
“I can’t talk to you.”
After he left, Polly cried for days. That night, pain ripped through her. The ambulance came, but it was too late. She returned to work, hollow-eyed, a shell.
She taught at a music school. Among her students was Lizzie, a bright, disciplined girl who’d stopped coming in December. Polly assumed it was illness—but February came, and still no Lizzie. The headmaster explained the father had withdrawn her.
Polly got their address and went that evening. Frost nipped at her cheeks as she knocked. A tall man in his thirties answered.
“I’m Lizzie’s music teacher. Could we talk?”
Lizzie dashed out, hugging her. Max—her father—poured tea, then explained over the kitchen table.
“Her mum left us. I’m swamped with work. No time for music lessons.”
“I’ll teach her. Even look after her after school.”
“You’d do that?”
“She’s got real talent. I’ll pick her up, help with homework too.”
“Why?”
Polly’s eyes fell. “I… live alone. My partner left when I told him I was pregnant.”
Lizzie returned to lessons. Polly adjusted her schedule to collect her, bringing snacks, letting her sit in on other classes. Sometimes, Max called late—Polly would take Lizzie home, play piano or read until he arrived.
Then, one evening, Daniel showed up, keys still in hand.
“Private lessons now?”
“Yes. Did you come for the rest of your things?”
“No, I—” He glanced at Lizzie. “Can we talk alone?”
“She’s a child. Speak.”
At that moment, the doorbell rang.
“Expecting someone?” Daniel went to answer.
Raised voices carried from the hall—Max had arrived. Polly rushed out.
“Found my replacement quick, didn’t you? Is that kid even mine?” Daniel snarled.
“There *is* no baby anymore. Get out!”
“So you lied? To trap me?” Daniel’s face twisted”Go,” whispered Polly, her voice steady as she looked at Max, who held Lizzie’s hand tightly, and in that moment, she knew she had finally found the family she had always wanted.
