“Got no man of your own, so you go after mine? Some friend you are. I don’t want to see your face in my house again,” snapped Emily.
Sonya didn’t want to get off the bus. She lived in a newly developed area where public transport didn’t reach yet. Walking from the stop to her flat was a long trek, especially in this weather. But she needed groceries. They’d promised a new shop would open nearby, but when? Her fridge was nearly empty—punishment for yesterday’s laziness.
Stepping onto the pavement, a gust of wind yanked back her hood and flung a fistful of icy snow into her face. The wind seemed to twist in every direction, determined to blind her. She tugged the hood lower, hunched forward like an old woman, and hurried toward the shop. Just before the entrance, she nearly broke into a run, desperate to escape the storm.
The door swung shut behind her, muffling the storm’s roar. She shook her hair loose, grabbed a basket, and moved through the aisles, picking only essentials. One bag—that was all she could manage while keeping a hand free to hold her hood on the walk back.
Up ahead, a young woman pushed a pram, a little boy in a thick snowsuit clinging to it. The woman moved slowly, balancing a basket in one hand. No way around them. Sonya veered down another aisle, grabbed milk, then headed for the bread section.
And there they were again. She turned to slip away, but a stuffed toy tumbled from the pram. She picked it up.
“Excuse me! You dropped this!” she called.
The woman stopped and turned. Sonya held out the toy—and froze. “Emily?” she gasped.
“Sonya! Blimey, what a surprise!” Emily beamed.
“I was just thinking, who’d brave this weather with kids in tow?” Sonya laughed.
“Live right upstairs. Ran out of milk and porridge oats. Thought I’d dash out alone, but Sophie threw a fit, and Ethan couldn’t handle her. So here we all are.”
The question about Emily’s husband hovered on Sonya’s tongue, but she bit it back. Too nosy. Probably still at work.
She glanced at the boy, who was eyeing biscuit packets.
“My little helper,” Emily said proudly.
“How old is he?”
“Six. Starting school next autumn.”
“Can we go home? I wanna finish my cartoon,” Ethan grumbled.
“Patience,” Emily chided. “Sorry, Sonya, you see how it is. Here—take my number. Call me sometime. Kids are usually asleep by ten.”
As Emily headed to the till, Sonya watched her go. *Never pictured Emily with two kids. How does she manage? I’d never dare drag children out in this.*
*That’s why you’ve neither husband nor kids,* her conscience jabbed.
At home, Sonya scrambled eggs—too late for a proper meal. While waiting for the kettle, she admired her new kitchen. Bought the flat six months ago, her pride and joy. The lounge was sparse—just a telly, sofa, and wardrobe—but the kitchen was fully kitted. *A woman’s kingdom,* she thought. Nowadays, she ate quick meals in front of the telly, but one day… a family. A husband. Kids. She sighed.
The kettle whistled. After dinner, she stood at the window, watching car lights flicker like fairy lights in the dark. Neighbours’ windows glowed—families gathered, sharing their day. Emily probably had no time for such stillness. Two kids. The girl who’d once vowed, *”I’m not wasting my best years on ungrateful children. Let others breed—I’m living life!”*
Funny how things turned out.
Emily called weeks later, inviting Sonya to Ethan’s birthday.
“Need help setting up?” Sonya offered.
“Nah. Got my husband and Ethan.” Her cheerful tone said all was well.
Sonya arrived in a smart dress, gifts in hand. Ethan answered the door, then bolted inside.
“Who’s there?” Emily called from the kitchen.
Sonya found her at the table, eyes red. No cake. No guests.
“What’s wrong?”
Emily wiped her face. “James came home drunk. Said he works all day while I ‘sit around.’ I lost it. Ethan’s birthday, and he…”
They salvaged the celebration, then talked over wine after the kids were asleep.
“I’m exhausted. Laundry, cooking, nursery runs—it never ends. James does nothing. Thinks kids are *my* job.”
“And you wonder why I’m single?” Sonya joked.
“Don’t listen to me. Kids are everything. I’d be lost without them.”
James stumbled in later. “Tea’s on,” Emily said tightly.
He leA few years later, as Sonya pushed her own daughter’s pram past Emily’s old street, she realized life had a way of balancing itself—sometimes through heartache, sometimes through love, but always teaching you exactly what you needed to know.
