A Father Is No Worse Than a Mother
Anna met her second husband at a conservation camp in Norfolk, where volunteers were protecting the nests of rare birds from poachers. She arrived with her ten-year-old son, Stephen.
Anthony was the heart and soul of the project a passionate biologist with lively eyes. He organised unusual tours with his childhood friend, both as a source of extra income and as a cherished pastime.
Three days in, Anna slipped on some wet stones and twisted her ankle. To her surprise, Anthony was not just an enthusiast, but also a practising doctor. He bandaged her tightly, carried her to her tent, and spent the rest of the week fussing over her like she was a child.
While Stephen joyfully helped the researchers, the adults realised there was real chemistry between them. Still, both stayed reserved their experience with relationships made it difficult to surrender to the rush of infatuation.
After the holiday, Anna threw herself into her job, doing everything she could to dismiss what she considered a fleeting romantic whim. Anthony supposed it was nothing more than a holiday fling, but within two weeks, he was searching for her address.
Six months later, they moved in together. A year after that, they married.
Anthony embraced fatherhood he had always wanted children, but work and his hobbies occupied his time. Stephen, raised by his mother and grandmother, adored his new stepfather, soon calling him ‘Dad’. They bought a spacious flat overlooking a park and began planning for a child together. Anna had always dreamed of a daughter, and Anthony shared her hopes. They even settled on a name ahead of time Emma. Life seemed perfect.
Everything changed when the twins arrived Emma came with a brother, whom they named Michael. Anna was submerged in nappies, porridge, and endless nights without sleep. Her mother helped with the babies as best she could. Anthony, needing to support the growing family, took a post at a pharmaceutical company. His work demanded lengthy business trips and piles of reports. He soon realised he dreaded returning to a flat filled with crying babies and a wife too exhausted for meaningful conversation.
He felt that being the breadwinner entitled him to personal space and quality rest. Anna believed parenting was a shared responsibility; her husband should shoulder part of the everyday tasks. Arguments became frequent, and they drifted further apart. Rarely did a conversation not boil down to wrangling over family roles.
The children’s nursery provided some relief. The twins werent yet three when Anna resumed her work as a designer. Stephen became a true helper. Tension eased in the household but only for a short while.
Two years later, Anthony fell in love again. His new colleague was passionate about her job, independent, and wonderful much as Anthony had once seen himself. After committing infidelity, Anthony, honest to a fault, immediately confessed to Anna and suggested they separate.
Ill always help you and the children, I promise. We can sort out the housing situation soon enough. But now I ask you to take the children and move in with your mother. Ill handle the divorce papers myself.
Didnt we buy this flat together, precisely because we wanted a big family? Anna asked evenly.
Dont make it complicated! Im offering a civilised solution! Anthony snapped.
I need to think about it, she replied calmly.
Anna gave it a week, then told him her decision:
Youve fallen in love with someone else. It happens. But the children arent just mine, theyre yours too. And theyll always be our children, wont they? I wont split the flat with you, even though I have every right you can live here with your new wife. Well share parental duties. Ill take Stephen and Emma. Michael will stay with you.
Anthony was dumbfounded.
Are you serious? I cant raise a preschooler by myself! I work! A child needs his mother!
Oh really? Anna said, genuinely surprised. You always wanted your own children, your real family. There you have it. I work too, you know. You want to start a new life, so Im supposed to look after three children myself? No, dear, I wont accept that. You should take responsibility for at least one. Fairs fair.
The scandal broke out.
Anthony stormed out, telling his tale to his friends, family, and colleagues. Everyone was shocked. They rang Anna, pleaded with her, criticised her, calling her decision cruel and heartless. Her own mother swore shed never forgive her. Still, Anna stood firm: Why is a father any worse than a mother? He loves them! Besides, Michaels not a baby anymore, and hes an independent little boy.
Cornered and desperate, Anthony agreed. His own mother refused to look after her grandson, citing poor health. Anthonys new romance evaporated after three weeks caring for a young child wasnt part of her life plans.
***
Three months passed.
One evening, Anna came to pick up Stephen, who was staying with his father. Anthony answered the door. The flat was tidy, the scent of porridge filled the air, and Michael sat on the floor playing intently with his Lego.
Anthony looked tired, but calm.
Come in, he said quietly.
As Stephen collected his things, Anna and Anthony lingered in the kitchen.
You know, Anthony began, not looking at Anna, the first few weeks I absolutely despised you. Thought it was the harshest revenge imaginable. But then then I simply got to know Michael. Turns out, he loves tomatoes and oranges. Hes afraid of the vacuum cleaner. Hes mad about building blocks. Snores adorably in his sleep. Drifts off only if someone rubs his back.
He glanced up at her:
I became his father. For real. Not just weekends every day.
Anna listened silently.
I wont ask forgiveness for all that. But Im grateful to you for this, Anthony nodded at his son. For us, me and him.
I knew, Anna said at last.
Knew what? That Id manage?
Thats part of it. But most importantly, I never doubted youd truly love him. Only that. Weve always been extremists, Tony. In love, in work. And, as you see, in parenthood.
So, was it revenge after all?
Anna smiled, turning to leave the kitchen. No. It was the only way I could see the man I married once more. And, I think, I did.
She left him in the quiet flat with their son. For the first time in ages, both understood that, even though their marriage was over, their family in some twisted, painful way had survived.
