I Can’t Be Your Mum and I Can’t Promise to Love You, But I Will Care for You and You Mustn’t Be Upset—You’ll Still Be Better Off With Us Than in the Children’s Home It Was a Tough Day for Ivan, Who Laid His Sister to Rest—Estranged Yet Still Family, Five Years Apart and Then This Tragedy. Vicky Did All She Could to Support Her Husband, Taking on Most of the Arrangements Herself. But After the Funeral, Another Important Matter Awaited: Ivan’s Late Sister Irina Had Left Behind a Young Son. All the Relatives Who Came to Say Goodbye Quickly Decided the Best Solution Was for Irina’s Younger Brother to Take Responsibility. After All, Who Else But His Uncle Should Look After the Boy? It Wasn’t Debated—Everyone Simply Assumed That Was the Only Right Thing to Do. Vicky Understood and, Truthfully, Didn’t Object—Except for One Thing: She Never Wanted Children, Not Her Own and Especially Not Another Person’s. She’d Made Her Decision Long Ago and Honestly Told Ivan Before They Married, but He’d Taken It Lightly—Who Thinks About Kids in Their Early Twenties? No Children, Just Us—That Had Been Their Plan Ten Years Ago. But Now She Had To Accept Someone Else’s Child. There Was No Alternative. Ivan Could Never Put His Nephew in Care, and Vicky Wouldn’t Even Dare Suggest It. She Knew She Could Never Love This Boy or Replace His Mum. The Lad Was Mature Beyond His Years, So Vicky Decided to Be Honest With Him. “Vlad, Where Would You Rather Live—With Us or in the Children’s Home?” “I Want to Live at Home, On My Own.” “But You Can’t Stay at Home Alone. You’re Only Seven. You Have to Choose.” “Then With Uncle Ivan.” “Alright, You’ll Come with Us, but I Need to Tell You Something. I Can’t Be Your Mum and I Can’t Promise to Love You, But I Will Care for You and You Mustn’t Be Upset—You’ll Still Be Better Off With Us Than the Children’s Home.” Some Formalities Settled, They Finally Returned Home. Vicky Felt She No Longer Needs to Pretend to Be the Caring Aunt—She’d Feed, Wash, and Help With Homework, But Pouring Out Her Heart Was Another Matter. And Young Vlad Never Forgot For a Moment That He Wasn’t Loved—To Avoid Being Sent to a Home, He Had to Behave. At Home, Vlad Was Given the Smallest Room, Which Needed Refurbishing for Him. Choosing Wallpaper and Decor Was Vicky’s Passion. She Dove into the Project with Enthusiasm. Vlad Got to Pick Out the Wallpaper, While Vicky Selected Everything Else. She Was Generous—Not Stingy, Just Not Fond of Children—So the Room Turned Out Beautiful. Vlad Was Delighted—If Only His Mum Could See His New Room! Oh, If Only Vicky Could Love Him. She Was Good and Kind—Just Not a Children Person. Vlad Often Thought About This Before Falling Asleep. He Found Joy in Everything—The Circus, Zoo, Theme Park—His Innocent Enthusiasm Even Made Vicky Enjoy Their Outings. She Loved Surprising Him and Watching His Reaction. In August, She and Ivan Planned a Beach Holiday, With Vlad to Stay Ten Days with Another Close Relative. But At the Last Minute, Vicky Had a Change of Heart—She Suddenly Wanted Vlad to See the Sea. Ivan Was Surprised but Secretly Pleased—He’d Grown Very Attached to the Boy. Vlad Was Nearly Happy! If Only He Were Loved—Well, At Least He’d See the Sea. The Holiday Was a Success—Warm Sea, Juicy Fruit, Great Moods. But All Good Things End, and So Did Their Holiday. Life Returned to Normal—Work, Home, School. But Something Had Changed in Their Little World; A New Feeling Had Emerged—A Hum of Life, a Whisper of Joy, a Glimmer of Wonder. And Then a Miracle Happened—Vicky Returned from the Coast Expecting a New Life. How Had This Happened, After Years of Avoiding Such Surprises? Vicky Didn’t Know What To Do. Should She Tell Her Husband or Decide Alone? Since Vlad Arrived, She Wasn’t Sure Ivan Was Truly Child-Free—He Was Devoted to the Boy, Always Involving Him, Even Taking Him to Football Matches. Vicky Had Managed One Feat—She Wasn’t Sure She Was Ready for a Second. She Decided Alone. She Was Waiting at the Clinic When a Call Came From School—Vlad Had Been Rushed to Hospital with Suspected Appendicitis. Everything Was Put On Hold. She Raced to A&E. Vlad Was Pale and Shivering. Seeing Vicky, He Burst Into Tears. “Vicky, Please Don’t Leave. I’m Scared—Just For Today, Please Be My Mum. Just One Day, That’s All. I Won’t Ever Ask Again.” He Clung Tightly To Her Hand, Crying Uncontrollably—A True Breakdown. She’d Never Seen Him Cry, Not Even at the Funeral. Now the Dam Had Burst. Vicky Pressed His Hand to Her Cheek. “My Darling, Hang On—a Doctor Will Be Here Soon. I’m Right Here, and I Won’t Leave.” God, She Loved Him So Much in That Moment! This Boy With the Wonder in His Eyes Was Everything to Her. Child-Free—What Nonsense. Tonight She’d Tell Ivan About Their Baby. The Decision Came As Vlad Squeezed Her Hand in Pain. Ten Years Later. Today Is Vicky’s Special Day—Her Forty-Fifth Birthday. Guests, Congratulations—But For Now, Over Coffee, She Let Memories Wash Over Her. How Quickly the Years Have Flown. Youth Gone—And She’s Now a Woman, a Happy Wife and Mum to Two Wonderful Children. Vlad Is Nearly Eighteen, Sophie Ten. She Has No Regrets. Well, Maybe Just One—Those Words About Not Loving. How She Wishes Vlad Didn’t Remember Them—Wishes He’d Forget and Never Recall. Since That Hospital Night, She’s Tried to Tell Him She Loves Him As Often As Possible. But Whether He Still Remembers Her First Admission, She’s Never Had the Courage to Ask.

I could never be your mother and Im not capable of loving you, but I promise Ill look after you, and you mustnt take it to heart. After all, youll be better off with us than in a childrens home.

It was a difficult day today. John was burying his sister. Troubled though she was, she was still his family. They hadnt seen each other in almost five years, and now this tragedy.

Emma did her best to support her husband, taking on as many responsibilities as she could.

But after the funeral, there was another important matter to attend to. Ivans sister, Sarah, had left behind a young son. All the relatives gathered to say their goodbyes to Sarah, and it seemed only natural that the responsibility would fall to Sarahs younger brother.

Who but a real uncle should care for the boy? So, the question wasnt even discussed; it was simply assumed that this was the only proper solution.

Emma understood, and she wasnt exactly opposed, but there was a single complication. She had never wanted children. Not her own, and certainly not anyone elses.

Shed made that decision long ago, and shed been upfront with John about it before they married. Hed barely registered it at the time; after all, who really worries about children in their early twenties? No meant no; theyd agreed ten years ago they would live for themselves.

And now she was expected to take in a child that was not her own. There was no way out. John would never allow his nephew to end up in a childrens home, and Emma couldnt bring herself even to suggest it.

She knew shed never be able to love the boy, much less replace his mother. He was mature for his age and sharp as a tack, so Emma thought it best to be honest with him.

Oliver, where would you rather live, with us or in a childrens home?

I want to live at home, by myself.

But you cant live at homeyoure only seven. So, you have to choose.

Then with Uncle John.

Alright, youll come with us, but I need you to know something. I cant be your mum, and I wont ever be able to love you, but Ill take care of you, and you mustnt be upset about it. Youll still be better off here than in a childrens home.

Once most of the paperwork was sorted, they were finally able to bring Oliver home.

Emma thought, after that conversation, she would no longer have to play the part of the caring aunt, and could simply be herself. She didnt mind feeding him, doing his washing, or helping with homework, but giving her heartthat was out of the question.

Little Oliver reminded himself every minute that he was unwanted, and to avoid being sent to a childrens home, he must behave himself.

When they arrived home, it was decided that Oliver would have the smallest room. But it needed to be redone to make it suitable for him.

Wallpaper, furniture, decorationEmma loved nothing more. She threw herself into transforming the room with enthusiasm.

Oliver was allowed to pick the wallpaper, and Emma chose everything else. She spared no expense, not being stingy, just simply not fond of children. The result was a lovely room.

Oliver was thrilled! If only his mother could have seen it. If only Emma could love him. She was good and kind, just not one for children.

He often pondered this before falling asleep.

Oliver could find joy in everything, even the smallest things. The circus, the zoo, the funfairhe expressed his delight so genuinely that Emma herself began to enjoy their outings. She liked surprising Oliver, then watching his reactions.

In August, John and Emma were supposed to fly to the coast, leaving Oliver in the care of a close relative for ten days.

But almost at the last moment, Emma changed her mind. She was suddenly desperate for Oliver to see the sea. John was surprised by her change of heart, but deep down, he was truly pleased, having grown attached to the boy.

And Oliver was almost happy! If only he were loved too. Still, at least hed see the sea!

The trip was wonderful. The sea was warm, the fruit delicious, and everyone was in high spirits. But all good things come to an end, and the holiday eventually faded away.

Everyday life resumed: work, home, school. Yet something had shifted in their small worlda sense of movement, a hint of joy, a whisper of something magical.

And magic did happen. Emma brought back a new life from the seaside. How, after so many years of avoiding such surprises, had this come about?

Emma was at a loss. Should she tell her husband, or deal with everything herself? Since Olivers arrival, she no longer felt sure that John was truly committed to a child-free life. He adored spending time with the boy, helped him gladly, and even took him out several times to watch football.

No, Emma had accomplished one courageous act, but she wasnt willing to embark on another. She made the difficult choice herself.

She was sitting in the clinic when the call from school came in. Oliver had been rushed to hospital with suspected appendicitis. Everything else would have to wait.

She dashed into the hospitals reception. Oliver was lying on a couch, pale and shivering. When he saw Emma, he burst into tears.

Please dont go, Emma. Im scared. Can you be my mum just for tonight? Please, only for one day and Ill never, ever ask again.

He clung tightly to her hand, tears pouring down his cheeks. It seemed almost like a panic attack; Emma had never seen him cry, except at the funeral.

Now it was as if something inside him broke.
Emma pressed his hand to her cheek.

My darling boy, hang in there. The doctor will be here soon and everything will be alright. Im here. Im not going anywhere.

My God, how much she loved him in that moment! This boy, with his shining eyes, was the most precious thing she had.

Child-freewhat nonsense. That evening, she would tell John about the baby to come. She knew for certain the moment Oliver squeezed her hand tight from the pain.

Ten years passed.

The date was a milestone for Emma: her 45th birthday. There would be guests and plenty of congratulations. For now, she sat quietly with a cup of coffee, swept up by memories.

How quickly the years had flown! Youth, young adulthood gone. She had become a wife, a happy mother of two wonderful children. Oliver was close to eighteen, and Sophie was ten. She regretted nothing.

Well, except for one thing: those words about not loving him. How she wished Oliver would forget those words, that he never remembered or mentioned them again.

Since that day in the hospital, she tried to tell him often how much she loved him. Yet she never summoned the courage to ask if he remembered those very first confessions.