A Gift of Fate
It was late when Anthony arrived at his mothers house. She betrayed no surprise; her son was given to such hours. Since the divorce, Anthony lived alone. His little boy, Michael, stayed with his ex-wife.
Michael waited for you, you know, his mother said, putting the kettle on. You promised to take him to the ice rink today. Hes just fallen asleep, so dont wake him. Ill warm your dinner, eat and then get some rest.
Anthony ate in silence, then slipped quietly into Michaels room. He lay beside his son, listening to the quiet rhythm of his breath. But sleep eluded him. His mind wandered to his first wife, Clairethough he had remarried twice since, none had lived up to that first spark.
Claire was unforgettable. They grew up side by side, playing in the cul-de-sacs of their old neighbourhood. Theyd shared the same classrooms since nursery, gone to the same university, and finally, married. Everyone admired themthe perfect English sweethearts. Both sets of parents were delighted, long used to their constancy.
Their friends envied their ease together. Life rolled on in the London flat Claire had inherited from her grandmother. Yet something was missing: Claire couldnt conceive. They were healthy, fortunateexcept for their empty home.
Doctors suggested a seaside spa in Bournemouth might help. But Anthony refused to let her go.
I wont have you coming back with someone elses child, he scoffed.
Claires eyes brimmed. You dont trust me?
Her parents, kindly souls, proposed adopting a child. Anthony refused to hear it.
I only want my own child, and thats that
On their tenth wedding anniversary, the flat shimmered with decorations and laid tables. Guests gathered, waiting for Anthony, who never arrived. The evening grew weary; people drifted home, leaving the untouched feast to wilt under the lamps.
Anthony never came home that night. Claire sat, weeping and adrift, knowing deep down that this was always possible. For months, hed grown distant. Dawn saw him return with devastating news: hed stayed with another womana mother of twopromised him a child, which theyd be allowed to raise.
How could you, Anthony? Youve betrayed me she sobbed. Why not talk to me? Ill never forgive yougo! But even in her heartbreak, she begged, Help me adopt, at least, before you leave.
He sneered. So you can give my name to another child, then bleed me for support?
When Anthony left, Claire was hollowed out. Friends and family tried to patch the wounds but it was no comfort. She longed to take in a child, but in England, authorities rarely grant single women approval.
She shut the door behind Anthony for good. Ten years followed: ten years of hope and disappointment, hospital corridors, pills, injections, silences so thick they seemed alive. Anthonys farewell was almost businesslike.
Sorry, Claire. I cant do this anymore.
Six months later, she heard through friends that Anthony had a son. The sky didnt fall. It simply faded, like an old photo bleached by the sun.
A year limped by: work, empty flat, sleeplessness. Then, sheltering from a Kingston rain in a small café, she saw OliverAnthonys old schoolmate, the one always cracking a joke, fixing the mood. Now he sat alone, stooped over an empty mug, all the charm gone out of him.
Oliver, hello. Claire touched his arm gently. He barely seemed to register her, but looked up at last, managing a wan smile.
Claire? Goodness, what brings you here?
The words tumbled out: hed split with Rita. You know, she always loved money. Then my garage business caught firedebts, ruin. Rita tossed me out. My parents are gone, and there was nowhere to go.
Impulse struck Claire. Come to mine, she said, surprised by her own decisiveness.
It was no matter of pity, just a clear choice: to help a friend in need. There was no room for romance or rescue. In her echoing house, someone else needed shelter even more than she did.
Is it alright? And Anthony?
He left long ago. Couldnt cope with the fact I couldnt give him a child. He found someone who did
Oliver looked shocked. I had no ideaweve not crossed paths in years. Seems fate took matters into its own hands.
Im used to it now.
Oliver slept on the sofa. At first, he was barely therea shadow, apologising for every slice of toast. But gradually, the old Oliver surfaced. He mended the leaking tap, fixed the lopsided bookcase, cooked dinner. His calm, unobtrusive care softened the flats harsh silences into comfort.
Every evening they talked; she found him a position at her firm. He was gratefula spring returned to his step. Step by step, life resumed. One day, they married.
On an errand in Wimbledon, they met Rita. With a smirk and the old malice, she said, Well, you can have himwas never of any use to me. Maybe hell give you a child, eh? She said this as if Oliver were invisible.
God willing, Claire answered softly. Thank you for the kind wishes.
With Oliver, Claire rediscovered laughterreal, shaking laughter, not the polite giggle for the sake of company. She found herself not just existing, but living: arguing over films, making plans, sharing steaming cups of tea as dawn crept in.
One night, Oliver saw her sadness.
Claire, he said, lets adopt. Why shouldnt we bring a child home from a childrens home?
She was stunnedhope and disbelief wrestling on her face.
Yes, darling, you heard right. He grinned.
Finding her voice at last, she whispered, Being a mother its all Ive ever wanted. Ive dreamed of raising a child with you but was afraid to hope. Thank you, Oliver. Youve given me back my hope.
Oliver swelled with pride at managing to surprise her.
Well then, lets not wait around. Tomorrow well enquire, start the processtogether.
Oliver, Im the luckiest woman in England, she laughed, hugging him, truly believing their luck had changed.
They gathered paperwork, endured the anxious wait for approval, then began visiting childrens homes. One busy morning, Claire noticed changes in herselfa certain rhythm, a quiet hope building inside. She kept her secret, popped into Boots for a test. Two bright lines appeared almost playfully, as if to say: Here, finally, is your own path.
Barely believing it, she rushed to Oliver.
Look, she showed him the test, hands trembling with joy, Were going to be parents!
Good heavens, Claireis it true? Well see the doctor in the morning!
The GP confirmed it. The journey that followed was one of anticipation and giddy delight. Oliver grew almost overprotective, refusing to let Claire lift a thing, indulging her cravings, showering her with surprises.
And so, in due season, their treasure arriveda healthy daughter, Alice, rosy-cheeked and bright-eyed. Oliver wept openly as he held her at St Marys, croaking, At last, were all going home. Well have a long, happy lifewith our little jewel.
Their home brimmed with new life: giggles, cries, scents of talcum and sleepless nights, endured together. It wasnt perfectthere were rows, exhaustion, struggle. But happiness, when it came, was as solid as an ancient oak, roots tangled in the rocky earth.
On a shimmering summers day in Richmond Park, they walked with Alices pram. She slept as her parents deliberated which path to takeand nearly collided with Anthony.
Gone was the confident man; he stood alone, older, dim-eyed, a half-empty beer bottle dangling at his side. They paused, stilled by the weight of old memories.
Hello, Anthony managed at last.
His gaze flicked from radiant Claire to Oliver, to the pram.
Id heard that things turned out well for you.
Yes, Claire said simply. Were happy. And you?
He shrugged, looking away.
Well, Ive married twice moredidnt work. My sons with his grandmother. I visit. Me I dont have the knack, it seems.
There was no malice left in his voice, only the tiredness of defeat. He glanced at Oliver, gave a dry chuckle and clapped him on the shoulder before moving offshoulders hunched, lonely in that vibrant park.
Oliver drew Claire close. Lets go, my love, he whispered. Soon Alice would wake; it was time for home.
Claire took hold of the pram, and they wandered their own waytowards a house not made of dreams, but of whats left behind when dreams collapse. No fairy tale, but real life, solid and earned.
Thank you for reading, for your subscriptions and your support. Wishing everyone luck and kindness.
