Don’t Think Less of Me

Author Mitsuko NagasakiReading 7 minViews 3

Sophie could barely contain her excitement for the NewYear break. Shed booked a trip to the Scottish Highlands, hoping to finally learn how to ski. Her daughter, Alice, was in her third year at university in Manchester, studying on a fully funded place and even receiving a scholarship. Sophie bragged to her coworkers:

My clever little Alice doesnt have to pay tuition, and she even gets a stipend. I can finally afford a proper vacation.

Youre right, Sophie. Your daughters a star, unlike my own rascal whos still being coddled by his dad and barely makes ends meet, chimed Nicky, a friend and colleague.

Sophie was head of a department in a large firm, earned a respectable salary, owned a flat and a car. Shed divorced twelve years ago; her exhusband had vanished back to his parents village and never looked back. Shed raised Alice alone, and the girl now studied in Manchester, where shed probably settle.

Sophie was slim, pretty, with chestnut hair cut in a sharp bob and serious hazel eyes. Polite and friendly, shed had a few romances after the divorce, but none had blossomed into marriage.

She prepared meticulously for the twoweek ski getaway, a dream she’d nurtured since summer.

Nicky, look at this designer ski suit I splurged on. Its pricey, but its for me, Sophie laughed, twirling the sleek jacket. At last Ill learn to ski. You and your husband jet off every winter, and Ive never managed a turn. If only we had a resort closer to home.

Before NewYears Eve the office threw a big party. Drinks flowed, laughter rang, and everyone dispersed for the holidays.

Sophie, enjoy every minute, Nicky toasted. My husband and I are heading to his familys cottage for the break. See you after the holidays. Youll be back a little later, right?

Thanks, Nicky. Ill try to relax. Im used to taking summer vacations, but a winter one feels special, Sophie replied.

She boarded a flight to the Highlands. After the break, the office buzzed again, everyone refreshedsome even longing for more time off.

Hey, Sophie, Nicky greeted her at the desk, eyes sparkling. You look radiant, like youve been lit from within. Must have been a brilliant holiday.

It was spectacular! The Highlands, the ski slopes, the villages It was the best break of my life. The scenery, the fresh snow, the hot cocoaeverything, Sophie gushed.

Did you manage to ski?

Of course! And besides skiing, I tasted local whisky, tried hearty Scottish dishes, and met an instructor named Arthur.

Ah, thats the story, Nicky laughed. So, whos this Arthur?

Hes the snowboard instructor who taught me. Ive fallen for him.

Congratulations, Sophiefinally something serious!

Thank you. Arthur was so attentive, so gentle, he swept me off my feet. It felt like a scene from a film.

Nicky pressed, Is this real? You flew away, left him on the mountain, and now youre both half a world apart?

Sophie had thought about it on the way home. Arthur had reassured her not to worry.

Our love sparked the moment we metlike a movie romance. He drove me around, showed me the sights, we dined in the finest restaurants, and one evening, perched on a cliffside café with a breathtaking view, he confessed his love.

Pure romance, Nicky murmured.

He said hed been waiting for a woman like me. There are plenty of beautiful women here, all learning to ski, but our connection was differentmutual and deep.

Thats wonderful, Sophie. Whats next?

We talked at length. I dont want to leave my career here, and he doesnt want to abandon his life up north. We made plans, and Arthur agreedout of loveto relocate to my city.

Good for him! Nicky cheered.

When the time came for Sophie to return home, Arthur promised a quick reunion and they shared a tearful farewell at the airport.

Sophie, I have two months left on my contract. Then Ill be with you, he vowed, and they part ways.

They called each other daily, sending tender messages. Sophie kept Nicky updated, thanking fate and counting down the days until Arthurs arrival. He was supposed to buy a ticket within two weeks.

Then a frantic message arrived.

Sophie, I slipped during training and broke my leg in two places. Doctors say I need surgery immediately.

Sophie rushed to call him.

Im coming straight away, taking unpaid leave, she said.

Dont botherI’m in the hospital. Could you lend me £1,300 for the operation? Arthur pleaded. I love you, Sophie, but Im stuck.

Without hesitation, Sophie transferred the money, her heart pounding with love.

Nicky hesitated.

Sophie, thats a lot. Maybe verify his story, get the doctors number, she cautioned gently.

Sophie shot Nicky a cold stare that left her unsettled.

Days slipped by as Sophie counted the hours of Arthurs recovery, then his rehabilitation, then the promised arrival. Their phones never stopped buzzing.

Sophie, Im grateful for your help. As soon as Im back, Ill repay you. Just wait for me, Arthur said, his voice weak but hopeful.

Sophie clung to his words, feeling the flutter of wings.

Soon a new message arrived: Arthur needed another £30,000 to book his flight home. He begged her to send it, promising to repay everything and more.

Sophies eyes welled as she read. Nicky noticed her distress.

What now, Sophie?

Sophie showed her the long, plaintive note, written in a tone that seemed far too desperate for a man whod just taken to the slopes. He wrote, It feels like my life is just a series of dark clouds. Darling, only your love and our upcoming reunion give me hope. Dont think badly of me, followed by the request for money.

Nickys gut tightened.

Sophie, this feels like a scam. He keeps asking for cash. You should think twice.

Arthurs sincere, Sophie defended. Hes just having a rough patch. Who else will help him but his beloved? And youre being overly suspicious.

Im looking out for you, love. You arent rolling in money to keep sending it to a stranger. Im starting to think hes a conartist, maybe youre not the first hes duped. Youre seeing him through rosecoloured glasses, Nicky warned. Dont send any more.

Sophie paused, the doubt crept in. Then her exhusband, Mark, called.

Sophie, dont fall for this. Hes a fraud. Tell him you cant send the cash. Why waste your hardearned money on a whimpering bloke who always needs more?

Sophie dialed Arthur.

Im sorry, I cant send the moneyIm broke myself. Figure something out, she said.

He snarled, Fine, youre greedy. No more calls from me. The line clicked shut.

Nicky sighed, See? Thats proof enough. Dont let yourself be taken advantage of. Real men dont need constant handouts. Youll find someone worth your love.

The office buzzed around them, but Sophie felt the weight of the betrayal settle like a cold stone in her chest.

“I Had Your Son, But We Don’t Want Anything from You,” the Mistress Called Nick looked at Laura with the eyes of a guilty puppy. — Yes, you heard right. Laura, I had an affair about six months ago. It was just a few casual meetings, nothing serious. And now—she’s had my son. Recently… Laura’s head spun. What a revelation! Her faithful, loving husband—now there’s a child with someone else! It took every ounce of her focus to grasp what he was saying. For several minutes, she tried to process her husband’s words. He sat opposite her, shoulders slumped, hands squeezed between his knees. He looked smaller than usual, as if the air had been sucked out of him. — A son, then,— Laura repeated. — You, a married man, have a new son. Born not to your wife—that is, not to me… — Laura, I honestly didn’t know. I swear. — Didn’t know where babies come from? You’re forty, Nick. — I didn’t know she… that she’d decide to keep it. We broke it off ages ago—she went back to her husband. I thought all was well. Then yesterday, the phone rings. “Nick, you have a son. Seven pounds, healthy.” And she hung up. Laura stood, her legs weak, knees wobbly as if she’d run a marathon. Outside, autumn was howling. She couldn’t help but admire the view—beautiful… — So what now? — Laura asked, not turning around. — I don’t know. — Great answer—from the man of the house. “Don’t know.” She spun on her heel. — Are you going to see them? At the hospital? Frightened, Nick met her gaze ashamedly. — She gave me the hospital address, said discharge is the day after tomorrow. She literally said: “Come if you want; don’t if you don’t. We want nothing from you.” Proud… Doesn’t want a thing… — “Nothing,” — Laura echoed. — Oh, the innocence. The front door banged in the hall—the older boys were home. Laura instantly pasted on a smile. She was good at this—years in business had taught her to keep a poker face even when the deal was crumbling. Her eldest—a tall, broad-shouldered lad of twenty—stuck his head in. — Hey, parents. Why the long faces? Mum, is there food? We’re starving from training. — Leftover dumplings in the fridge—heat them up, — Laura tossed. — Dad, you promised to check my old clunker’s carburettor, — the younger one thumped Nick on the shoulder. Laura watched the scene, heart twisting painfully. They called him Dad. Their real father had faded out of their lives years ago, only sending maintenance payments and occasional cards. Nick had raised them. Taught them to drive, patched up scraped knees, went to parents’ evenings, sorted their troubles. He was their real dad. Nick forced a smile: — I’ll look, Sanjay. Later. Let me finish talking with your mum. The boys left, rattling plates. — They love you, — Laura said softly. — And you… — Laura, don’t. I love them too. They’re my lads. I’m not going anywhere. I told you straight—I was out of my mind. A mistake. With her… it was just… temptation. — Temptation. Which now means nappy changes… Six-year-old Maisy dashed into the kitchen. That broke Laura’s armor. Daughter threw herself into Dad’s lap. — Daddy! Why are you sad? Did Mum tell you off? Nick hugged her, nose buried in her light hair. He lived for her. Laura knew: for Maisy, he’d fight lions. It was wild, unconditional fatherly love. — No, princess. We’re just having a grown-up talk. Go put a cartoon on—I’ll be right there. Once Maisy had run out, silence fell again. — Do you realise everything’s different now? — Laura asked. She sat down at the table. — I’m not leaving, Laura. I love you, I love the kids—I couldn’t do life without you… — That’s just words, Nick. Facts: you’ve got a son now. He’ll need a father. That woman says, “we don’t want anything now.” That’s hormones, elation, maybe a tactical move. Give it a month, six months—the child gets ill, grows up, needs money. She’ll ring. “Nick, he needs a winter coat.” Or “Nick, he needs a doctor.” And you’ll go. You’re just that kind. Honourable. Nick was silent. — And the money, Nick? — Laura lowered her voice—Where will you find it? He flinched—that was the sore spot. His business had collapsed two years earlier; Laura’s money had paid off the debts. Now he worked, hustled, earned, but it was pennies compared to what she brought in. The house, cars, holidays, kids’ education—she paid for all of it. He didn’t even have his own card—all his accounts were frozen by collectors; he used cash or Laura’s linked card. — I’ll find it,— he muttered. — Where? Taxi nights? Or will you raid my bedside drawer to support your love child’s family? Can you see how ridiculous that is? I fund the household and you use my cash to support your mistress’s love child? — She’s not a mistress! — Nick snapped.— It ended six months ago! — But a child binds people more tightly than any marriage licence. Are you going to the discharge? The question hung in the air. Nick rubbed his face. — I don’t know, Laura. Honestly. Human decency… I should. It’s hardly the baby’s fault. — Human decency, — Laura said wryly. — And what about human decency towards me? To Maisy? The boys? You’ll go, hold that bundle. That’s it. You’ll get drawn in. I know you—you’re sentimental. It’ll start once a week, then two, then weekends. You’ll lie—you’re staying late at work. While we all just sit here and wait. Laura got up, ran the tap, watched the water, turned it off. — She’s eight years younger, Nick. Thirty-two. She’s given you a son. Your own. My boys aren’t yours—though you raised them. But this one—your blood. And you think that means nothing? — Don’t talk nonsense. The boys are mine—I raised them. — Oh, come on! Every man wants a ‘proper’ heir. — We’ve got Maisy! — Maisy’s a girl… Nick leapt up. — Enough! Why are you chucking me out before I’ve even left? I said—I’m staying with the family. But I can’t just be heartless. There’s a living person there. Mine, yes. I’ve let you down—let everyone down. If you want—kick me out. I’ll pack and go now. I’ll stay at Mum’s, a mate’s, a bedsit—wherever. But don’t blackmail me! Laura froze, suddenly scared. If she said “go”—he’d go. Proud. Foolish, but proud. He’d end up there, no money, no home—and make a new life as a pauper-hero-emergency father. And that would be the end. And she didn’t want that. For all the hurt she loved him. The kids loved him. It takes seconds to smash things; life to mend them. How to live, afterwards, in a home echoing with his absence? — Sit down, — she said quietly. — Nobody’s kicking you out. Nick lingered a second, then sat. — Laura, forgive me. I’m a fool… — A fool, — she agreed. — But you’re our fool. The evening passed in a blur. Laura did homework with Maisy, checked her work emails, but her mind was elsewhere. She pictured the other woman. What was she like? Pretty, of course. Young. She was probably looking at that baby, thinking she’d won. Nothing needed from us! Of course—the flawless move. Don’t ask or beg, just announce: here’s your son, we’re proud, we’ll cope ourselves. Nothing gets to a man’s pride faster. He instantly wants to play the hero. Nick tossed and turned, slept fitfully. Laura lay awake in the dark. She was forty-five—lovely, polished, successful, but old age wasn’t far off. And that other one—youth… *** By morning it felt worse. Laura couldn’t settle. The boys left, then Maisy suddenly acted up. — Daddy, do my plaits! — she demanded. — Mum does them wonky. Nick took the brush. His big hands—just as good at steering wheels as hammer handles—gently teased the fine hair. He plaited carefully, tongue sticking out with focus. Laura drank her coffee and watched. Here he was. Her husband—real, warm, hers. And somewhere else there was a child who had a claim on him too! How could that be? — Nick,— she said once Maisy had dashed off —We need to settle this. Now. He put the brush down. — I’ve thought all night. — And? — I’m not going to the hospital. Laura felt something inside her tighten, but showed nothing. — Why not? — Because if I go, I’ll give hope—to her, to myself, to the baby. I can’t father two homes. I don’t want to—I don’t want to lie to you, don’t want to steal time from Maisy or the boys. I made my choice eleven years ago. You’re my wife, my family’s here. — And that boy?— Laura was surprised at her own question. — I’ll support him financially. Officially, with child support, or we’ll open an account. But visits—no. Better he grows up not knowing me than waiting for me on weekends. And me—always glancing at my watch, desperate to get home to my real family. It’s fairer. Laura was quiet, twisting her wedding ring. — Are you sure? Won’t you regret it? — I will,— Nick admitted. — Of course I’ll wonder how he’s doing. But if I start going there, I’ll lose you. I know you won’t stand for it. You’re strong, Laura—but not made of stone. You’ll end up hating me—and I can’t bear that. God, I’m explaining terribly… He stood, came behind her, resting his hands on her shoulders. — Laura, I don’t want another life. I have you—the kids. That… that’s the cost of my mistake. I’ll pay with money—only money—not with time, not love, not care. Laura put her hand over his. — You’ll pay? — she managed a wry smile. — I’ll earn it. I’ll make it work. I’ll never take a penny from you for my mistakes. That’s my problem, Laura. Finally, she felt calmer. Yes—maybe he’d hurt her, but these were the words she needed. She was never sharing her husband; she didn’t care about the other woman’s feelings. Had a child with a married man? Her problem, not Laura’s. *** Nick didn’t go to the hospital. The mistress bombarded his phone for weeks—shouting, crying, demanding why he hadn’t come. Nick was upfront: she could expect money, but there’d be no meetings. The calls stopped, and for the next six months she disappeared—her number unreachable. And that suited Laura just fine.