The Final Chance
Emily lay curled up on the sofa, clutching her stomach as waves of pain shot through her. Everything ached, a grim reminder of what was coming. The same pattern each time: sharp pain, bleeding, an ambulance, the hospital, and then emptiness inside. Another miscarriageno doubt about it. The third in two years, preceded by a stillbirth and, before that, an abortion. That abortion, the one she now paid for with her inability to become a mother.
Fumbling for her phone, she dialled for an ambulance and, while waiting, called her husband, Daniel, to let him know she wouldnt be home for dinner.
“Again?” he asked, but Emily couldnt bring herself to answer. Tears streamed down her cheekstears of despair and self-loathing. How many times? Why did this keep happening? Or did she already know the reason? If she hadnt gone to that back-alley doctor years ago, everything might have been different. She and Daniel couldve had a five-year-old by now. But there was no child, and now, it seemed, there never would be.
“It hurts so much,” she gasped, as the doctor adjusted her drip with an indifferent glance.
Two agonising days in the hospital dragged by before she was discharged. Daniel met her with a bouquet of roses, the routine painfully familiar.
“You look so pale,” he murmured. Emily forced a weak smile. There was nothing to celebrateshe couldnt give him a child, and that truth weighed heavily.
In the car, she twisted the roses in her hands before turning to him. “I dont want to try anymore. I cant give you a baby.”
“Dont say that,” Daniel said gently. “Well manage. Plenty of couples live happily without children.”
“Or with just one,” she whispered bitterly.
“Lets not deny ourselves the happiness we *do* have,” he interrupted, squeezing her hand.
That was Danielpatient, devoted, unwilling to give up on her. Hed fought for her, waited, and now, even without children, he believed their love was enough. He knew her pastthe forced marriage to an older man her tyrannical father had arranged, the botched abortion that left her barren. But none of that mattered to him.
Emily rarely spoke of her family. Shed cut ties with her father years ago, and her younger sister, Charlotte, had been kept from her. So when Charlotte appeared on her doorstep, Emily was stunned.
“Whats happened?” she asked, only then noticing Charlottes swollen belly.
“Ive run away,” Charlotte sobbed, collapsing into Emilys arms. “Father wanted me to to get rid of it.”
Emily gasped. “Youre pregnant! Whos the father?”
“It doesnt matter. Hes marriedwants nothing to do with the baby. Father said either I terminate it, or hed drag me to a clinic himself.”
Emily held her sister as they cried. Charlotte had grown into a beautiful woman, but she was still under their fathers thumb. Emily knew shed try to return eventuallyshe couldnt let that happen.
Daniel welcomed Charlotte without complaint. He never opposed Emilys choices, and Charlottes presence didnt disrupt their life.
A week later, Charlotte grew restless. “I should go back,” she murmured.
“No!” Emily grabbed her wrists. “Do you want him to hurt youor the baby? Think of your son!”
“He cant force me nowIm too far along,” Charlotte argued.
“But he could induce labour!” Emilys voice broke. “Youd never even know. Please, stay.”
Charlotte relented. When her son, Oliver, was born in July, she tried to leave again.
“I wont let you take him back to that monster!” Emily clutched the baby. “If you go, he stays with me.”
Charlotte shrugged. “Fine. Father only wanted menot the baby. You keep him.”
Emily knew it was postpartum depression talking. Eventually, Charlotte would return for Oliver. But holding him, smelling his sweet scent, hearing his little coosit filled a void shed thought permanent.
“Shell come back for him,” Daniel warned gently.
“I know,” Emily whispered, her heart aching.
Then her father called, roaring threats. “Return my grandson, or Ill ruin you both!”
Emily trembled, waiting for his arrival. But it never came.
Instead, tragedy struck. Charlotte and their father died in a car crash. Oliver was hers now, and she fought to adopt him legally.
Amidst the paperwork, she forgot her gynaecologist appointment. The doctor scolded her before asking, “Any chance youve missed a period?”
Emily shrugged. “Stress, I suppose.”
“Stress? Take a test!”
The scan revealed the impossiblea healthy twelve-week pregnancy.
“Youve never made it this far,” the doctor said firmly. “Bed rest. Now.”
Emily hesitated. “But Oliver”
“Your husband can care for him. This baby deserves a chance too.”
She agreed. Two months later, she left the hospital, her pregnancy secure. Daniel waited outside with Oliver in a pram. The little boy squealed at the sight of her. Smiling, Emily cradled her growing bellyher daughter, due in months.
The final chance had become her greatest blessingproof that hope, even against the odds, could bloom anew.
