Amelia, Ive told you a hundred times now isnt the time for children, I said, snapping my laptop shut and turning to my wife. Ive just been offered the head of a new project. Its the chance Ive been waiting three years for.
Meanwhile Ive been waiting for an heir for three years! I shouted, the frustration clear. Emily, were both thirty! The biological clock is ticking, and you keep talking about your career.
Amelia exhaled slowly. The same argument had been looping for the past six months, each time I pressed harder.
My job matters! Youre not abandoning a post for parenthood, she replied.
Thats a different thing! A man should provide, a woman should bear children. Thats the natural order, I insisted.
She pressed her lips together. My oldfashioned ideas seemed to surface more often now, as if our marriage had stripped away the thin veil hed once hidden behind during courtship.
The natural order is for people to decide when they want to become parents, she said, standing to clear the desk. Im not ready now. Period.
When will you be ready? At forty? Fifty? My voice rose. Or maybe never?
Our sleepy terrier, Molly, lounging by the balcony door, lifted her head and gave a worried glance at her owner, always sensitive to the tension in the house.
In a couple of years well revisit this, Amelia said, sitting beside the dog and scratching behind her ears. Right, girl?
I watched the gesture and grimaced. Thats the problem. You waste all your motherly instincts on that mutt.
Dont speak of Molly like that, Amelia snapped, turning sharply. Shes part of the family.
Family? A dog is an animal, not a child! I slammed my palm on the table. I wont stand for this any longer!
The following days felt like a siege. I devoted every morning, as Amelia barely opened her eyes, to a lecture on parental duty. In the evenings I pounded new arguments about the ticking clock.
Look at Sarah, Id say, scrolling through social media. Shes your age and already has two kids. And Ivy in your department? She gave birth last year.
Sarah is three months into maternity leave, moaning that her brains gone to mush, Amelia retorted. And Ivy went back to work after four months because the bills werent paying themselves.
Youre just scared of responsibility.
And youre scared Ill outshine you.
On Friday, my motherinlaw, Margaret, weighed in.
Darling Amelia, she began, settling at the kitchen table, Daniel told me everything. I understand work is important, but a womans primary purpose is to carry on the family line.
Amelia winced inwardly. Margaret belonged to a generation that expected women to be mothers by twenty and saw nothing else as a viable path.
Well sort it out ourselves, Margaret, Amelia answered politely.
How can you sort it out? Three years have passed! In my day we had a child within a year of marriage and were planning the second by the third year.
Times have changed, Amelia kept her tone calm.
Changed, indeed! Not for the better. Women used to know their place, Margaret sniffed, her eyes flashing at me.
I nodded, silently backing my motherinlaw.
Ill decide where I belong, Amelia said coldly.
Margaret pursed her lips and exchanged a meaningful glance with me.
Amelia, youre selfish. Daniels thirtyone; he wants a child.
Then let him find someone ready to give him an heir right now, Amelia shot back.
A heavy silence fell. I turned pale, and Margarets mouth opened in disbelief.
Maybe Ill just do it! I blurted.
When Margaret left, Amelia took Molly for a long walk. The terrier trotted happily, pausing now and then to sniff or wag at other dogs. Those evening strolls in the park became Amelias little oasis amid the marital storm.
You know, girl, she whispered to Molly as the dog chased pigeons, sometimes I think youre the only one in this house who truly gets me.
Mollys ginger muzzle turned toward her, eyes bright with loyalty. Amelia crouched and hugged her.
I found you at the shelter, skinny and frightened. Look at you nowa proper beauty, she said.
Molly licked her cheek gratefully, and Amelia laughed for the first time in days.
At home, I waited, arms folded on the sofa, looking anything but welcoming.
Ive made a decision, I announced.
Whats that? Amelia asked, unbuckling the leash as Molly ran to her water bowl.
Either a child or the dog. Choose.
She froze, leash in hand.
What?
You understood me perfectly. If you want to keep this marriage, get rid of the mutt. If you wont have my children, I wont watch you play mother to a pet.
Daniel, are you out of your mind? she said slowly, turning to me. Mollys been with me for four years!
I wont tolerate a dog being more important than me.
She isnt more important! Its just
Just what? I cut in. Just that you spend time, money, emotion on her that should belong to me and our future kids!
Amelia sank onto a chair, the absurdity of the scene dawning on her.
Youre jealous of the dog?
I expect my wife to behave like a wife, not like an old spinster with cats!
This is a dog, not cats.
Dont try to be clever! I barked. Decisions made. By Sunday this mutt must disappear, or you start preparing for pregnancy!
Molly, hearing the raised voices, padded over and rested her head on Amelias lap. Her warm breath soothed more than any medicine could.
What if I refuse? Amelia asked quietly.
Then our marriage ends.
Amelia spent Saturday wrestling with the choice. I deliberately avoided conversation, grimaced at the sight of Molly, and sighed loudly as if the dogs presence caused me physical pain.
Times running out, I reminded her that evening. I need an answer tomorrow.
Im ready, she replied calmly.
She had thought it through. She realized the choice between the dog and me was really a choice between devotion and manipulation, between genuine love and emotional blackmail.
Great! I exclaimed. Well take her to the shelter tomorrow.
Im taking my things and moving in with my parents tomorrow with Molly, Amelia said.
My face stretched.
Youre really choosing the dog over me?
Im choosing the one who loves me without conditions.
Sunday turned chaotic. I shouted, threatened, begged, then shouted again. I promised magnanimous forgiveness if Amelia changed her mind, swore Id find a compromise, but it was too late.
Youll regret this! I roared as she carried the last suitcase out. Who else will put up with your whims?
Ill find someone else, she smiled. And hell love dogs.
Molly sat in the car, waiting patiently as her owner finished packing. The dog seemed to understand a new chapter was beginning.
Amelias parents welcomed her with open arms. Her mother, Susan, immediately set a dinner for three, while her father, Ian, built a comfy spot for Molly in the living room.
We always thought this marriage was a mistake, her mother admitted, hugging her. We just never had the guts to say it.
The divorce went surprisingly quickly. I, realizing compromise was impossible, didnt drag it out. Amelia moved into her own flat, threw herself into work, and for the first time in years felt genuinely happy.
Five years flew by. Amelia now headed a major department, earning a solid salary of £75,000 and living in a spacious flat overlooking the park. Molly had grown stocky but still greeted her with joy each evening.
Maxwell entered her life naturally a colleague from a neighboring team who first became a friend, then something more. He accepted Molly as a fact of life, never complained about fur on the sofa and even walked her when Amelia stayed late.
Its absurd that anyone could force a choice between family and a pet, he marveled when she recounted the first marriage. Daniel thought that was normal.
He was foolish, Amelia agreed, and Maxwell quickly added, Sorry, didnt mean to be harsh about your ex.
No apologies needed. Youre right.
On a warm day, Amelia walked Molly through their favourite park. The dog no longer chased pigeons, preferring to stroll beside her, still curious about the world.
Lola, stay! a familiar voice called.
Amelia turned and froze. Daniel walked the path, hand in hand with a fouryearold boy. Beside them, on a leash, trotted a ginger terrier uncannily resembling Molly.
Emily? Daniel stopped, recognizing her. What a coincidence.
Hello, Daniel, Amelia replied evenly.
The boy let go of his fathers hand and ran to the dog.
Lola, whos this? Your sister?
Amelia smiled and looked at her ex.
What a funny name match, she said.
Daniel flushed.
My son wanted a dog. What could I do? The name just popped into my head.
Right, Amelia said, not pressing further. Hes a handsome boy, looks a lot like you.
Thanks. Are you married?
Yes. Maxwell is wonderful, and he loves dogs.
Daniel nodded, at a loss for words.
Dad, why is that lady sad? the boy asked.
Im not sad, Amelia replied, smiling. Just thinking.
About what?
How everything worked out.
When they walked away, Amelia lingered on the path, watching Daniels figure recede. Hed gotten what he wanted a child and even a dog.
The problem hadnt been the dog. It was people trying to reshape each other. With Maxwell she never had to choose between career and family, or between love for an animal and love for a man.
Come on home, girl, she said to Molly. Maxwell promised a tasty dinner.
Molly wagged her tail happily. Amelia mused that sometimes fate throws mismatched partners together just so we can later appreciate the right ones.
