“If the baby looks like himI’ll refuse it… I’ll give it life and refuse it!” Laura said in a hollow voice, her words barely more than a whisper.
“It’s too late for second thoughts now, love,” the doctor concluded briskly. “You’ll have to see it throughunless you want to risk never having children at all.”
Laura stepped out of the consulting room and sank onto the bench in the corridor, pressing a hand to her forehead. She wanted to weepfrom anger, from despair. Lifting her head, she saw the autumn wind outside, mercilessly shaking the last clinging leaves from the branches.
She felt just like those brancheshelpless, adrift. And now this child, once so desperately wanted, felt like a cruel twist of fate. How quickly everything had changed.
Leaving the clinic, she passed a beaming couplethe husband embracing his wife, both smiling. The sight cut deeper. Laura dragged herself to the bus stop.
At last, she reached home and shut herself in her room for nearly an hour. Her mother, Margaret, pleaded with her to eat, but Laura said nothing. Defeated, Margaret retreated to the kitchen, sitting in heavy silence.
Eventually, Laura emerged and took a seat opposite her mother. For a long while, neither spoke.
“If it looks like himIll refuse it,” Laura repeated dully.
Margaret startled at the words, snapping back to attention. “Good heavens, Laura! Have you lost your senses?” When serious, she always used her daughters full name. “A decent, hardworking girl like yougiving up her own child? What will people say? The neighbours? Your colleagues? How will you live with yourself? The childs innocentits fathers the villain, not it.”
“Who cares what people think?” Laura burst out, trembling like a cornered animal. Her brown eyes were wide with fear, lips quivering, shoulders slumped.
“I care,” Margaret said firmly. “And I wont let you abandon my grandchild.”
“You can barely make ends meet as it iswhat help can you possibly be?”
“Well manage,” Margaret insisted. “People survived worse in the warthis is peacetime, 1989.”
Laura sighed heavily. Fear already gripped herwhat lay ahead was unknown. She didnt yet know the hardships the ’90s would bring. Today, she knew only one thing: Edward had left her.
Theyd married just six months ago, after a year and a half of courtship. Nothing had foreshadowed disaster for the young, handsome couple.
Laura remembered every moment of the day Edward came home changed. Hed tried to act as usual, but his distance was unmistakablehis gaze that of a man whod fallen out of love.
He already knew she was expectingthat was the worst of it. Otherwise, hed have left straight away. For a month, Laura begged for an explanation. Only when he finally walked out did she learn the truth.
She was hysterical when Edwards mother, Edith, arrived, weeping just as hardnever expecting such betrayal from her son.
The story stretched back to their school days. In his final year, Edward had gone on a youth camping trip, meeting teenagers from across the country. There, hed fallen instantly for Victoria.
For two weeks, hed barely left her side. Theyd exchanged addresses, but Edward lost hers when moving house. No letters ever came. Over time, hed resigned himself to forgetting heruntil he realised she was his one true love. Three years later, he met Laura, convinced Victoria was in the past. They married, began hoping for a child.
Then Victoria reappeared. She hadnt kept his address either but, knowing his town, placed an ad in the local paper. Edward saw it, invited her, booked her a hotel.
At first, hed just wanted to see the girl hed never forgotten. But their reunion reignited everything. The decision tormented him, but he made it: leave Laurapregnant with his childand go with Victoria.
At work, Laura was met with sympathy. A new colleague sighed, “A babys a blessingmy husband and I have been trying for five years.”
“Exactlywith a husband,” Laura muttered bitterly. There was no joy in her pregnancy now, only the sting of abandonment.
At home, Margaret did her best to soothe Lauras grief. Then one day, Edith visited, weeping openly. Shed hoped Edward and Laura would stay together. She resented Victoriaespecially when Edward followed her a thousand miles away. (In truth, hed chosen to gobut Edith blamed the other woman.)
The attentions of both grandmothers weighed on Laura, yet somehow eased her burden. But what terrified her most was meeting her child.
What if he had Edwards eyes, his nose, his lips? Would she spend her life looking at her son and reliving his fathers betrayal? The thought terrified her.
Leaving the hospital, Laura hadnt expected such a crowd. There was Margaret, Edith, her closest friend with her husband, her elder sister with a niece, even her small team from work.
Everyone wanted to hold the baby. Everyone wished mother and son health. At home, when they unwrapped the boy, Edith cradled him, smiling through tears. “The very image of Edward,” she whispered.
She thought Laura hadnt heard. But Laura had. Taking her son back, she said firmly, “Hes not Edward. His name is John.”
Edith and Margaret exhaled in relief. All would be well.
Twenty years passed. By 2010, John was in his third year at university. At home, he doted on his two younger sisters, helping care for them as babiesa proper little nursemaid.
Laurie remarried five years after Johns birth. Her husband was a devoted stepfather, nearly a true father, and later became one to their two daughters.
She adored her girlsbut with John, shed never quite connected. That moment in the hospital, swearing shed abandon him if he resembled Edward, haunted her. She couldnt bear to remember it.
Edward and Victoriathe great love of his lifedivorced after five years. Victoria moved abroad with their daughter. Edward remarried, lived comfortably enough, occasionally seeing John.
Laura didnt interfere, but she felt nothing for her ex-husband now. Just the biological father of her beloved son, John
Thank you, dear readers, for your kind support. Enjoy the story.
