Martin returned to his terraced house in Nottingham. At once, a strange emptiness hit himthe house was quiet, and there was no sign of his wife. The absence of both his wife and their one-year-old boy unsettled him deeply. Resisting the rising panic, he crossed the hallway and knocked on his neighbours door to ask if shed seen his family. Astonishingly, at that very moment, Mrs. Porter, his kindly neighbour, stepped out cradling Martins son, Oliver.
It turned out his wife, Emma, had dropped Oliver off with Mrs. Porter and hurried off on some urgent errand.
Martin, while not unaccustomed to caring for a baby, couldnt silence the worry gnawing at him. What could have been so pressing that Emma would leave without a word? Still, he felt a small surge of gratitude when he found a warm meal in the microwavethoughtful, even in haste.
Time crawled byhalf an hour, an hour, then two, then fivethe silence in their home growing heavier with each passing moment. Martins worry twisted tighter with every unanswered ring as he tried again and again to call Emma. Hours blurred together before at last, he managed to settle Oliver to sleep. He sat on the edge of the sofa, phone clutched in hand, his eyes fixed on the clock, dreading every tick.
Finally, the phone rang. Hope flared in Martins chesthe answered quickly, firing questions about where she was, if she was safe, what on earth had happened. But instead of the reassurance he craved, Emma dodged every question. Her voice was distant, almost numb. She told him, simply, that she wouldnt be coming homethat shed decided to leave Oliver with him, for good.
The world seemed to tilt. Shock and anguish gripped Martin as he clung desperately to the phone, praying it was all some cruel joke. But the line went dead. Alone in the dim light, Martin was left to face the immense burden of raising his son by himself, stepping into the roles of both mother and father, determined to give Oliver every bit of love he had left.
