Mum, youd best sit down. I have something staggering to tell you.
Katie flopped onto the sofa beside her mother, Margaret, tucking her leg under herself and wriggling about until she was settled. Her eyes glittered in that way that made Margaret set her book aside and remove her glasses, because the last time her daughter looked like that was when she was about twelve and had managed to bag the top spot at the local spelling bee.
I met a man. In a café, quite by chance. Well not entirely by chance. We were sat at neighbouring tables, he spoke first, and then, would you believe, we ended up nattering for three hours!
Katie babbled on, hopping from one tangent to the next, botching up the order, forgetting things and backtracking. His names Rob, hes thirty-four, works for an architect firm, has a cracking sense of humour, and this is the main point he might be the only man in creation who actually listens and manages not to interrupt. Three dates in ten days, mum. The third ended with them strolling down the Thames embankment until two in the morning, entirely forgetting both had work at the crack of dawn.
He understands me, Mum, truly sees me. I start to say something, and he just runs with it. It genuinely makes me wonder where on earth this man has been hiding all my life.
Margaret listened, head cocked, at one point shaking her head, not in disapproval but more out of honest marvel.
Youre positively glowing, Katie. Its been ages since Ive seen you so alive.
Thats when Katie fell silent. Not abruptly just slowly running out of words, enthusiasm dripping away until something much heavier settled at the bottom. She dropped her gaze to her tangled fingers, thinking and steeling herself.
But
But what? Margaret frowned, leaning in, searching her daughters face. Katie, what is it?
Hes married.
Margaret reclined slowly against the back of the sofa. She was silent perhaps for five seconds but that was more than enough for Katie to regret her gushing recital over the preceding fifteen minutes.
Katie, but doesnt really cover it, does it? Thats appalling. You see what this means, dont you? Youre breaking up someones family. Stealing another womans husband.
Mum, he says he hasnt loved her for years! Nothing keeps him there but the child, and he told me himself honest, Im not making it up.
And the child doesnt count? Katie, youre wading into someone elses life and rearranging it all for them.
Im not rearranging anything, mum, I just
Youre just seeing a married man. Three times in ten days, then running home and telling your mum about it like youve not a care in the world.
Katie sprang up from the sofa, unwilling to remain beside her mother under such scrutiny. Margaret rose too, but she didnt follow. She lingered by the settee which, oddly enough, made everything feel worse. If her mum had chased after her and wrapped her up in an embrace, Katie might have managed. But instead, she just stood there watching. So Katie grabbed her coat from the hook, fumbled her arms through the sleeves, and left, swallowing tears she could barely hide.
Back home, she sat on the stairs in her hallway for a good twenty minutes, shoes still on, palms pressed to her damp cheeks. Her phone buzzed in her pocket. Robs name flashed on the screen. Katie wiped her face with her sleeve, cleared her throat, put on the best brave voice she could muster, and answered.
Hi there, Robs voice was so soft Katie nearly broke down again, but she held it together.
I told my mum. About us. All of it.
Howd she take it?
Badly. Said Im tearing a family apart. That Im a horrible person. You know, not in as many words, but pretty much.
Rob went quiet, and Katie listened as he breathed down the line, clearly struggling for the right words.
Katie, listen. I genuinely dont know what to do anymore. My little girl is four, and I think about her every day. If I walk out now, Id be betraying her. But I cant keep living this lie. I even suspect Saskias been unfaithful. Could be relevant if it came to court, but
He trailed off, and Katie sat with that silence, until something finally clicked deep inside her a thought that had lurked around corners but never shown its face.
Rob are you certain shes actually your daughter? I mean, you do suspect Saskia.
Silence, again.
Rob didnt call that night. Or the next. Katie messaged him, brief and without prying, simply to show she was there for him. He replied a day later: Had a test. Waiting on results. Cant talk right now, sorry. She respected that, though resisting the urge to ring was like wrestling a lion.
A month stretched out painfully, as if time itself was in on the joke. Rob phoned sometimes late, and not for long and every time Katie heard his tortured pauses, the way hed chop off his own words and veer into safe, trivial chatter about Tesco being out of ginger biscuits or the printer packing up again.
She didnt pry or press, just filled the space with talk of work, the hilarious new bakery round the corner with croissants off their rocker, anything to give him a break from the rest of it.
Then one Thursday, with the rain pelting down so hard the world looked blurry, Katie went to bed early, convinced nothing exciting would happen. At eleven, her doorbell rang. Katie grabbed a cardigan and shuffled, bleary-eyed, to answer it. Rob stood on the threshold, soaked through, eyes raw, a screwed-up bit of paper clamped in his fist.
He didnt say a thing, but he didnt need to Katie read everything on his face long before she clocked the paper. She grabbed his wet sleeve, hauled him into the warmth, shut the door with a solid boot, and hugged him tightly enough to keep the world at bay.
Not mine, he choked, and Katie flinched at how much agony could fit in just two words. Four years, Kate. Four years believing I was a dad. And she knew all along.
She stroked his sodden hair, keeping her lips sealed. He didnt need comfort or platitudes he needed presence. Someone to simply not let go.
The divorce dragged for months exhausting, joyless, bleak. Katie trailed to the solicitors, sorted Robs paperwork, cooked tea when he came back from court looking as if someone had scooped the life completely out of him.
She never once grumbled or demanded attention, though occasionally, facing the blank ceiling at night, shed admit to herself she was frightened and lonely as well. But gradually, Rob started to put himself back together. Katie could see it, day by day, as some lost core bit of him returned the bit Saskia had spent years chipping away.
Nearly a year later, they tied the knot, quietly, in a poky little registry office, just the two of them and an unimpressed registrar. Katie swore it was the best day of her life, because it all just felt real. Their new flat smelled of emulsion and dust, which to Katie was the glorious scent of a new beginning.
Soon after, baby Leo arrived. They brought him to Katie in the ward tiny, scrunched, and wildly indignant at everything. Katie glanced at Rob, too scared to breathe, and marvelled at how, just a year before, none of this seemed plausible.
Two weeks after coming home, Katie placed an envelope in front of Rob DNA test results. He looked at her, then the envelope, shaking his head.
Katie, really. I dont need anything like that from you.
Open it, Katie curled up on the sofa, hugging a snoozing Leo. Its not about trust, Rob. Its just for our peace of mind. Who knows maybe they mixed up babies in the hospital. At least this way we know, right?
Rob unfolded the letter, glanced at the lines, and set it aside. Then he perched beside her, arms around Katie and Leo both, just sitting in the quiet until the neighbours kids started their daily stampede overhead. Katie closed her eyes, thinking how thankfully her parents had finally thawed: last week, Dad had actually shaken Robs hand and offered to help put together Leos cot, while Margaret had gifted an absurdly oversized pair of hand-knitted booties for her grandson which so nearly made Katie cry on the doorstep.
And in that moment, she realised shed been right, all those months ago, not to walk away.
