“Enough, I’m done! How much longer can I take it? The child, her endless exhaustion’help me, help me’… while all I want is to go out like I used to! I want closeness! I work all day! I want to come home to my loving wife, a woman… Ill grab a bite at my mates, then find some young thing… ugh…” Behind the wheel, lost in bitter thoughts, Stephen nervously puffed on his cigarette, certain this was the final straw in his marriage.
Their story was as old as time. They met, fell head over heels, passion blazing, careless of consequencesuntil, months later, she showed him two pink lines.
“Of course well keep it, well manage,” Stephen declared confidently. Relatives nodded approvingly, murmuring promises of helpso long as they got grandchildren.
Then came the wedding, the due date, tears of joya son! And just like that, their carefree happiness ended. His wife became a weary henunkempt, sleep-deprived, endlessly fretting over the baby, her pleas for help never-ending.
Where had his sweetheart gone? Family support vanished overnight, leaving them alone with parenthood.
“Im not ready!” Stephen snapped at his wife today before slamming the door in her face, the baby wailing in her arms.
The screech of brakesa dark, hunched figure appeared before his car.
“Have you lost your mind?!” Stephen leapt out, storming toward the stranger.
The man straightened, his aged eyes sorrowful. “Yes,” he whispered.
Stunned, Stephen faltered. “Father, do you need help? Let me take you home. Talk to memaybe I can do something.” He guided the old man gently to the passenger seat.
“Go on, then,” Stephen exhaled smoke.
“Its a long tale.”
“Ive got time.”
The old man studied him, then glanced at a faded photo on the dashboard.
“Fifty years ago, I met a girl. Fell hard, everything moved fastbefore I knew it, we were wed, then came a child, a son, an heir. Seemed like bliss.”
“But I wanted the old dayspassion, youth, excitement. She was exhausted, the baby relentless, the chores endless. I left it all to her. Found another woman at workan affair. My wife found out. Divorce.”
“That woman left me too. I didnt carefreedom! But my wife remarried, grew radiant again. My son called another man ‘Father.’ I shrugged it off.”
“And you?” Stephen lit another cigarette, tense.
“Me? I kept chasing fun. No family, no wife, no children. Todays my sons fiftieth. Went to congratulate himhe shut the door in my face. Said, ‘Youre no father to me. Go enjoy yourself.'” The old man wept. “My own fault.”
“Where should I take you?” Stephen drummed his fingers on the wheel.
“Just here. Dont fret over me.” The old man stepped out, shuffling toward a block of flats nearby.
Stephen waited, watching him disappear inside, then turned the car around. At the shops, he bought flowers.
“Forgive me,” he murmured, kneeling before his weeping wife. “Rest, love.” He took their son, rocking him gently, singing in a rough whisper, “Hush now, little one…”
The boy, soothed, drifted off, his tiny hand resting on Stephens pounding heart. Gazing down, Stephen thought fiercely, *I want to watch him grow. I want to hear him call me ‘Dad.’*
“Rescuing another lost soul?” His elderly wife smiled at the door as her husband hung up his coat.
“Yes. Someone had to teach the lad sense.”
“And who needed saving this time?”
“I did, at his age.”
“Come, herodinners ready. And no ‘saving’ tomorrow. Its our sons birthday.” Her eyes warmed.
“Wouldnt miss it. Fifty years of our lovehow could I forget?” Arm in arm, they walked to the kitchen, smiling.
Believe it or not, thats how it happened. Make of it what you will.
