I always thought Charles was your typical golden boy, the sort of lad who has everything handed to him. He lived in a swanky flat, drove a fancy car, wore posh clothesthe lot.
Me, I was always the quiet one, the invisible girl. No one knew my parents were alcoholics or that Id had a part-time job since I was fourteen just to help out at home. The only good thing that came out of that was learning to sew, so Id mend and alter clothes for my mates to scrape a bit of pocket money.
At the start of uni, our course mates decided to throw a house party. The thing that floored me was I actually got an invite too. I was clueless with excitement and desperate to prove to everyone that I was worth something.
There was no way I could afford a dress, so I stitched one up myself. My neighbour, Mrs. Green, did my hair for me. When I walked in, nobody recognised me at first. Charles caught sight of me and spent the whole evening keeping a close eye on me. I tried to slip away early, but he followed me out and offered me a lift.
I blurted out the address of a house a street over from mine; I couldnt bear for him to see where I really lived. That night was just the start. We started seeing each other and bit by bit, we fell in love. All those things I thought about him being stuck-up melted awayhe always treated me as his equal, never anything less.
Everything was going brilliantly until my course mates found out where I worked and started taking the mick out of me. I was mortified, honestly wanted the ground to swallow me up. The embarrassment was too much, so I legged it straight to the Deans office and asked for a transfer to another department.
I thought if I vanished for a year or so, maybe theyd forget all about me, and maybe I could even move to a different uni. Looking back, I realise how daft that was, but at the time, it felt like the only way out. I changed my number too, which meant things fizzled out completely with Charles, and then, two months later, I found out I was pregnant.
There wasnt a soul I could talk to about it. I worked all hours, and at night Id just cry into my pillow. My parents hardly noticedtoo lost in their own haze, constantly asking for cash to buy more drink. In the end, my godmother, Auntie Margaret, saw what was happening and took me in.
Telling her the whole sorry tale made me feel a bit lighter. Shes the one who stood by me through everything, the one who held my hand at the hospital when my little boy was born. He was a beautiful, fair-haired, blue-eyed little thinglooked just like an angel. I honestly couldnt get enough of him.
Then, out of the blue, Charles messaged me, said he loved us and wanted to be part of our lives. The next day, when we left the hospital, I was terrified at the thought of seeing him face-to-face. Ill never forget standing there with my son in my arms, bracing myself to look him in the eyes.
Looking back, I cant believe how much happiness I shut myself off from for almost a year. How could I ever have thought about leaving Charles behind forever? It only really hit me when I saw the way he looked at our son, all the love in his eyes and the gentleness in his touch.
