Polly had always been a well-behaved child. She did well in school and never caused much trouble for her mum or gran. But in her final year of school, she fell in love, and everything changed. She skipped lessons, talked back, and started wearing heavy makeup. Veronica happened to find expensive cosmetics in her daughter’s drawer and confronted her.
*”They were a gift,”* Polly muttered.
*”From who?”* Veronica pressed.
*”Anthony.”*
*”Really? And where does he get the money?”* Veronica assumed Anthony was a classmate.
*”He’s got a job, actually.”*
That was how Veronica discovered her daughter wasn’t dating some schoolboy but a grown man who’d already finished university and was working.
*”Do you even realise how young you are to be with someone his age?”* Veronica demanded.
*”I’m not a kid! You did it, so why can’t I?”*
Veronica blinked, thrown.
*”I wasn’t with grown men— Wait, are you pregnant?”*
*”Yes, Mum,”* Polly burst out desperately. *”You had me at eighteen. The apple doesn’t fall far, does it? You’ve always said I take after you,”* she added quietly.
Veronica stared in horror.
*”I’m going out.”* Polly brushed past her to the door.
*”Where? We’re not done talking!”* Veronica chased after her. *”Have you done your revision? Exams are soon,”* she nagged as Polly tied her trainers.
Polly straightened abruptly, blowing a strand of hair from her face. *”Revision? Seriously? And what about *you*—who keeps you out late? Think I don’t know?”*
Veronica had thought herself discreet, that Polly was too wrapped up in herself to notice. Polly smirked victoriously and slammed the door behind her.
*”Polly!”* Veronica shouted helplessly.
She trudged back to the living room and sank onto the sofa. Her daughter had grown up—and so had the problems. Pregnant? God, no. She should’ve talked to her sooner, but she’d treated her like a child. It wasn’t too late to fix this. Who could she turn to? Her own mother, of course.
*”Mum, what do I do? Polly’s seeing an older man. She’s pregnant…”* The words tumbled out over the phone.
*”You’re not overreacting?”*
*”No. She admitted it. I can’t even talk to her—”*
*”She’s just like you. Never listened to me either. Should’ve married that… what’s-his-name.”*
*”I didn’t love him. That’s not the point!”*
*”It *is* the point. Married on time, Polly’d have had a father. Wouldn’t be looking for one now.”*
Veronica knew she was right.
*”Mum… why didn’t you let me get rid of her?”* she whispered.
*”Regret having Polly?”*
*”No, of course not—”*
*”Then there’s your answer. Imagine life without her. Don’t scold her now—you’ll only push her away.”*
They talked for hours. Veronica stayed up, waiting. When Polly returned, Veronica stepped into her room just as she tugged off her hoodie. Her gaze dropped to Polly’s bare stomach—always slim, but now… rounded. It was true. A hot wave of dread washed over her.
*”How far along? Three months?”* Her voice was flat.
Polly flinched, clutching the hoodie to her belly.
*”Darling…”* Veronica pulled her into a hug. *”I’m not angry. I need to know so I can help.”*
Polly looked up, tears welling. *”He promised I wouldn’t get pregnant.”*
*”Does he know?”*
A nod.
*”What now?”*
*”Sorry, Mum.”*
*”Don’t cry. How’d you even meet? Where does he work?”*
*”At— Mum, he’s good. We’ll marry after exams. He rents a flat near here.”*
*”He’s not from here?”*
*”No. Graduated last year from university.”*
*”You’re keeping it? What about uni? You won’t go?”*
*”No. But later, maybe…”* Polly avoided her eyes.
*”Alright. It’s late. Get some sleep.”* Veronica left.
Sleep was impossible. Who could rest after news like that? She relived her own past—how she’d fancied a classmate but never dated. One night, he invited a group over while his parents were away. They drank, danced. She felt ill. He took her to his room, tucked her in. She slept. Then… it happened fast, and she thought there’d be no consequences. There were.
When she told her mother, she confronted his parents. They blamed Veronica—said *she* had led their boy astray but wouldn’t let her ruin his life. *Apple doesn’t fall far…*
*”What’s that mean? My husband died when Polly was three—heart attack. Maybe teach your son to take responsibility instead of blaming girls!”* Her mum stormed out.
She made Veronica go to university part-time after school, talked her out of ending the pregnancy. It was so hard. Later, Veronica had often resented her for it. But Polly grew up, and it all seemed behind her. Until now. Her daughter, soon a mother herself. Veronica huffed bitterly—*I’ll be a grandmother at thirty-six!*
That boy’s parents sent him away to study—she never saw him again. Veronica avoided relationships for years until her boss, a widower, pursued her. He proposed. She didn’t love him—said no, quit.
Then, last year, a handsome younger man joined her office. He flirted relentlessly. She resisted, saying plenty of pretty girls there would gladly date him—why her? She was ten years older with a grown daughter.
Didn’t matter. He wore her down. For six months, they’d met at his place. Sometimes she lost track of time, making excuses to Polly—who’d known all along.
Oliver proposed early on, but Veronica hesitated. Feared introducing him to Polly. What if he preferred her? Another betrayal would destroy her.
She blamed herself. Should’ve spent more time with Polly instead of falling in love… Next morning, she broached the subject again—begged Polly to reconsider.
*”Don’t throw your life away. I’ve been there—it’s hard with a baby. In a few years, you’ll see things differently—even him. Think about it.”*
*”Did you regret having me?”* Polly asked suddenly.
*”At first. But then—no. I love you. That’s why I want to spare you the mistakes…”*
Sometimes doubt flickered in Polly’s eyes, but it vanished. She snapped back, insisting she’d marry Anthony after exams, that *her* life would be different…
Veronica told Oliver.
*”Good! Once Polly’s married, we can too—you’ll move in with me.”* He couldn’t hide his delight.
In August, Polly married Anthony and moved into his rented flat. Veronica still hadn’t moved in with Oliver—until Polly forced her hand.
*”Mum, the landlady found out I’m pregnant. We need to stay with you a few days while we find somewhere?”*
*”Of course,”* Veronica agreed instantly.
She’d always help her daughter. But how would they all live together? She’d be in the way. So she decided to stay with Oliver temporarily.
*”Finally! You’re moving in tomorrow,”* he said, thrilled.
A solution—everyone happy. Yet unease gnawed at Veronica. She kept waiting for disaster. But the newlyweds seemed content, expecting their child. Things with Oliver were perfect too.
Weeks passed. Polly and Anthony showed no sign of leaving. Veronica didn’t push—this was her daughter, about to give birth.
She still doubted Oliver. What if he left her for someone younger? Where would she go? Her mum’s, maybe. But she cherished her independence. Oliver grew frustrated, proposing again. She asked him to wait.
One day, she felt ill at work—assumed food poisoning. But dizziness and nausea persisted. She couldn’t recall her cycle. The pregnancy test’s two lines stunned her.
Why surprise? She was with a healthy young man. He’d be thrilled—had begged for a child. But the timing—grandson and son the same age? Unnatural. She kept it secret, needing time.
Then chaos. Polly gave birth, and Veronica rushed to help. Her daughter, still practically a child herself, struggled. Veronica raced over after work, exhausted. One day, she nearly collapsed there—dizzy, breathless.
Polly panicked, then guessed.
*”You’re pregnant?Veronica wiped her tears, took a deep breath, and whispered, *”Maybe it’s time I stopped running from happiness—for all of us.”*
