If the baby looks like him, Ill give it up I swear, Ill give it away! Laura said in a hollow voice, her words lifeless.
Its too late for regrets now, love. Youll have to wait it out, the doctor concluded bluntly. Unless you want to risk never having children at all.
Laura stepped out of the office and sank onto the waiting room sofa, trying to steady herself. She wanted to cryout of anger, out of hurt. Lifting her head, she caught sight of the autumn wind outside, ruthlessly shaking the last few leaves from the branches.
For a moment, she felt just like those branchesutterly helpless. And now, this baby, once so desperately wanted, felt like a mistake. How quickly everything had changed.
Leaving the clinic, she passed a happy coupleher husbands arms wrapped around his beaming wife. The sight twisted the knife deeper. Laura trudged to the bus stop.
When she finally reached home, she locked herself in her room for nearly an hour. Her mother, Margaret, pleaded with her to eat something, but Laura stayed silent. Defeated, Margaret retreated to the kitchen, lost in thought. The flat was heavy with quiet.
Eventually, Laura emerged and sat across from her mother at the table. Neither spoke for a long while.
If it looks like him, Ill give it up Ill let it live, but Ill give it away, Laura repeated tonelessly.
Margaret jolted at her daughters words.
Dont be daft, Valerie! she snapped, using Lauras full name when she meant business. A sensible, hardworking girl like you, throwing away her own baby? What will people say? The neighbours? Your colleagues? And the poor childs done nothing wrongits fathers the wretch, not it.
Who cares what people think? Laura burst out, trembling like a cornered animal. Her wide brown eyes were full of fear, her lips quivering, shoulders slumped.
I care, Margaret said firmly. And Ill help you. I wont let you abandon my grandchild.
Help? You can barely make ends meet as it is!
Well manage, Margaret insisted. People survived worse in the war. Its 1989were not starving.
Laura sighed heavily. Fear already gripped her, and the future was a vast unknown. She didnt yet know the hardships the 90s would bring. But today, she knew one thing: David had left her.
Theyd married just six months ago, after a year and a half together. Back then, nothing had hinted at the disaster ahead for the young, happy couple.
Laura remembered vividly the day David came home a different man. Hed tried to act normal, but his distance was unmistakablehis preoccupied stare, the look of a man whod fallen out of love.
He already knew she was pregnant. That guilt had kept him from leaving sooner. For weeks, Laura begged for answers. Only when he finally walked out did she learn the truth.
Shed sobbed hysterically when Davids mother, Susan, came by, weeping herself over her sons cruelty.
The story went back to their school days. In his final year, David had gone on a youth camping trip, meeting teens from all over the country. There, hed fallen hard for a girl named Vickytwo inseparable weeks, promises to write. But after moving house, he lost her address. No letters ever came.
Hed tried to forget her, convinced himself he had. Then, three years later, he met Laura and thought Vicky was behind him. They married, started a family.
Then Vicky reappeared. She hadnt kept his address either but placed an ad in the local paper. David saw it. He booked her a hotel room in his town.
At first, he just wanted closure. But seeing her reignited everything. The decision tore him apart, but he made it: leave Laura, pregnant with his child, and start anew with Vicky.
At work, Lauras colleagues rallied around her. A new hire sighed, A babys a blessing. My husband and I have been trying for five years.
With a husband, Laura muttered bitterly. There was no joy in her pregnancy nowonly the sting of abandonment.
At home, Margaret tried to soothe her, easing the heartache however she could. Then Susan visited, tearful, begging Laura to take David back. She had no love for Vicky, the woman whod stolen her son a thousand miles away. (In truth, David had chosen to go.)
Between the two would-be grandmothers, Laura wavered between grief and fragile relief. But one fear haunted her: what if the baby looked like David? What if she spent her life staring into his eyes, his nose, his lipsconstant reminders of his betrayal?
Leaving the hospital with her son, Laura hadnt expected the crowd waiting: her mother, Susan, her best friend with her husband, her older sister with her niece, and her entire close-knit team.
Everyone clamoured to hold the baby, showering mother and child with well-wishes. Back home, as Susan cuddled her grandson, she whispered tearfully, The spitting image of David.
Laura heard. She took the baby and said firmly, No. His name is Jack.
Susan and Margaret exhaled in relief.
Twenty years passed. By 2010, Jack was in his third year at university. At home, he doted on his two younger sisters, helping raise them since they were tiny.
Laura remarried five years after Jacks birth. Her new husband was a devoted stepfather to Jack and a loving father to their daughters. She adored her girls, but Jack held her heart. The moment shed sworn to abandon him if he resembled David haunted hershe couldnt bear to think of it.
David and Vicky, his great love, divorced after five years. Vicky moved abroad with their daughter. David remarried, living comfortably, occasionally seeing Jack.
Laura didnt interfereshe felt nothing for him now. Just the man whod fathered her beloved son.
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