Hey love, listen up, Ive got a story thatll stick with you.
Victor handed Emily a bottle of water. She took it with trembling fingers, got out of the car, and he slid into the drivers seat, turned the engine over and bolted away, leaving her alone on the edge of a wood near the village.
Emily splashed water on her face, brushed her messy hair back, smoothed her coat and, with slow, hesitant steps, headed toward the town.
Shed come from a tiny hamlet up north to study veterinary science. Shed been at the university for three years and was now on her final year, doing well enough that you could tell she was serious about the career. She wanted a qualification that would pull her out of her parents cramped, boozefilled flat, give her a way out of poverty, and keep her close to the animals she adored.
That evening her flatmates begged her to come to a party thrown by a posh student. Shed almost said no, but thought a little fun wouldnt hurt. The place was packed, loud music blastingnothing Emily likedso she spent most of the night on the patio with a glass of juice, watching the lake.
Victor then suggested a night drive around town to escape the noise. Emily agreed, but soon realised that was a mistake. He took her out of the city, dragged her into the back seat
The memory of that ride flickered in her mind like a broken film reel, every muscle aching. She didnt even remember how she got back to the dorm. She locked herself in her room, collapsed onto the bed and sobbed into the pillow until she finally drifted into a restless, uneasy sleep.
She missed a few days of lectures, and all she could think about was what to do. Call the police? No one had forced her into the car; shed gone with a stranger of her own naïve accord. Run to her mum? Her parents were forever stumbling between drunken stupors and frantic scrambles for cash for another bottle of spirits. So she was left alone with her shame and humiliation.
Months passed and Emily almost recovered. She attended classes, chatted with her dormmates and tried not to think about that night. She almost succeeded.
One morning she woke with a wave of nausea, dashed to the bathroom, and brushed it off as a bad fastfood dinner. But it kept happening, over and over. She was only seventeen, but she soon figured out what was going on. A few hours later, sitting with a pregnancy test in her hand, she turned pale as a sheet. She was pregnant.
I dont want this child, she thought, not from him, not like this. Every second it would remind me of what happened. I hate it.
All she wanted was to get rid of it, so she headed straight to the GP that same day.
The procedures simple, the doctor said, but you need to understand I wont get involved with the courts. Youre a minor; without your parents consent or the police, theres nothing I can do.
Alright, Ill bring my mum tomorrow, Emily replied.
She walked out, fully aware her mother, even if sober, wouldnt take her anywhere. She had seven months until she was an adult and about six weeks until the baby would be due, so she resigned herself to carrying the child.
Ill wait, she muttered. Hes not mine. Ill give birth and be done with it. Ill figure something out.
Days turned into months. Emily finished her degree, pleased that her belly was barely noticeable even in the fifth month. She landed a job as a veterinary assistant and moved into a small flat on the outskirts of town. The work piled up, getting tougher each day.
One morning, before work, a sharp pain ripped through her lower back and stomach.
It cant be that early, she gasped, but the baby was already making a push.
Everything happened so fast she barely had time to react. Within a couple of hours she was holding a tiny, whimpering boy in her arms. He hiccupped a bit, then fell asleep as if he knew any more noise would just annoy his mum.
Even as a vet she knew how to manage alone, so she didnt call an ambulance. She lay on the bed while her son, swaddled in a blanket, rested beside her. She tried with all her strength to feed him or at least hold him again, but she couldnt.
In the dead of night she woke, the baby still peacefully snoring, wrapped in his soft blanket.
Sorry, she whispered to him, I just cant.
She slipped off the little cross that her grandmother had given hera charm meant to protect her. Her granny used to say it would keep her safe, and young Emily had believed it.
Take it, she said, fastening the cross onto the babys neck. Maybe itll look after you.
She felt disgusting, but she wasnt about to give up. The child wasnt hers, after all
She bundled him tighter, headed to the nearest supermarket, shoved the stroller into the trolley, and walked out without looking back.
Back home she grabbed a bag, ran to the train station and, an hour later, was on a carriage heading for whoknowswhere. All she wanted was distancefrom the memories, from the nightmare. A fresh start in a new place.
Ten years later, Emily had achieved almost everything shed ever wanted. Shed been married for six years and ran her own veterinary clinic. Life seemed perfect, except for one nagging problem: no matter how many treatments or specialists she tried, she still couldnt give her husband the child he wanted.
Its karma, she sighed to herself, the universe is punishing me for past mistakes.
One evening, returning home, she found her husband, Tom, looking grim at the kitchen table.
Tom, whats wrong? she asked.
Its… I should have told you earlier. Its not what you think.
Spare me the drama, love.
And theres more.
What else? she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.
Im leaving. Ive got a woman Im with now. Shes pregnant.
Emilys heart sank, but she managed a weak smile. Well, go then. Youve always been a decent bloke. She thought, bitterly, that perhaps this was the price shed pay for the choices shed made long ago.
Tom packed his things, and as he left, Emily wondered how the universe kept handing her these blows. She thought of the baby shed abandoned in that supermarket trolleyalone, vulnerable, left behind.
A sudden click of the door snapping shut pulled her back to reality.
Ms. Emily Clarke, your first appointment is at nine, called the receptionist, a cheerful young woman named Molly.
Thanks, Molly. Ill be ready, Emily replied, slipping into a coat.
She walked into a bright, spacious consulting room where a man cradled a nervous cat, while a little boyTommygently petted the trembling animal.
Dont worry, Tommy, the vet will sort him out, right, dad? the boy asked.
Yeah, lets get him checked, Ian, the man said, introducing himself as Dr. Ian.
Emily took the cat from Ians hands and began the exam.
This feline has been with our family for ages. My late wife rescued him, and ever since she passed, my son cant bear to be without him. He hasnt eaten or played for two days, looks weak. I know hes getting old, but please help him.
Emily started talking when the cat suddenly bolted, darting around the room, squealing. It skittered under the desk, hissing as she edged closer.
Let me try, a boy named Sam offered, crawling under the desk and scooping the mischievous furball.
As Sam lifted the cat, Emilys necklace that same cross shed given away slipped out from under her shirt.
Oh my! Sam exclaimed, Tommy looks fine now, see how hes running around!
Emily listened to the chatter, but all she could hear was a voice in her head: This cant be happening.
Ian, noticing her pallor, asked, Everything alright, Dr. Clarke? You look a bit pale.
She replied, Im fine, really. Just remembering things.
Ian pressed, Whats on your mind? That cross on the catwhere did it come from?
Emily, feeling an odd compulsion, began to spill her whole storyhow a vile man had used her, the poverty, the unwanted pregnancy, the abandonment. She left nothing out.
Ian sat silently, absorbing every word. When she finished, he stared at her for a long moment.
We were married to a woman named Vera for six years, couldnt have children. Doctors said there was no hope, so we adopted, he said slowly. We found Sam at a care home when he was three; he was a bright, happy boy. He became our son. Last year Vera died, leaving me with Sam. I never told him he was adopted. Hes my son, but now it seems he might also be yours.
Emily felt tears sting her eyes. Im not trying to claim anything. I made a terrible choice back then. It was cruel, and Ive lived with that guilt ever since. I didnt expect to meet you or the boy again, let alone feel something.
Ian replied, Hes a wonderful child, the best we could ask for. But I understand hes not my son anymore.
A heavy silence fell. From the closed door came Sams giggle, and Emilys eyes welled up.
I get that you cant pretend nothing happened. Neither can I, Ian said gently. We wont tell Sam anything, but youre always welcome to visit if you want.
Emily, voice trembling, asked, Is that okay?
Of course, Ian smiled. Hed love to have his own vet. Come any time.
Tomorrow, perhaps? she suggested, grateful for the chance to make up for lost years.
Two years later, Sam introduced his little sister to Tommy, while Emily and Ian watched their children with warm smiles.
And that, love, is how everything comes full circle.
