When the phone rang at seven in the morning, I already knewit was Edward. Only he would call at such an ungodly hour with the cheerful tone of someone who thinks the day begins at five.
“Yes?” I grumbled, still half-asleep.
“Eleanor, Im sorry to wake you, but… I need to ask a massive favour.”
I sat up in bed. With him, a “massive favour” always meant either disaster or madness.
“Out with it, then,” I sighed.
“Ive got to fly to Edinburgh for work. Two weeks. And Sophies six months alongthe doctors told her to take it easy…”
“So you want me to look after your pregnant wife?” I interrupted.
Silence hung on the line.
“Just make sure she eats properly, gets to her appointments, doesnt overdo it…”
“Do you hear how this sounds, Edward?”
“I know,” he exhaled. “But youre the only one I trust. And Sophie adores you. Says youre the sister she never had.”
Brilliant, I thought. A sister who used to be married to her husband and still isnt entirely sure shes over him.
I hung up, but twenty minutes later, I was standing at their front door. Sophie answeredwearing pyjamas covered in little ducks, her hair tousled, her bump round and lovely.
“Eleanor! I didnt mean to drag you into this, Edwards just being ridiculous,” she said, flustered.
“Relax, I dont bite. Wheres your globetrotter?”
“In the bedroom, hunting for socks. Navy ones. Failing, as usual.”
Oh, I knew that routine well.
“You actually came?” Edward peered out.
“Yes, but I have conditions.”
He tensed. “Which are?”
“No calling every five minutes. When youre back, dinner at the poshest place in town. And buy Sophie Belgian chocolatesshes been craving them since yesterday.”
“How did you know?” Sophie blinked.
“Pregnancy cravings are unmistakable,” I said, smiling. “Been there.”
When he finally left, we were alonethe ex-wife and the current one, both a bit bewildered.
“Weird, isnt it?” Sophie said, pouring me tea.
“Very. But Ive grown used to lifes oddities.”
We spent the days together. Id arrive early, make breakfast, help with chores. We binged telly, laughed, talked about everything.
“Be honestdo you still love him?” she asked quietly one evening.
I couldve lied. But not to her.
“Yes. Just not the way I used to. Its like loving a memory. It aches, but it doesnt wound.”
She nodded. “I was afraid you hated me.”
“Believe me, I tried,” I chuckled. “But youre too lovely to hate.”
The next day, we went for her scan. When the tiny heartbeat flickered on the screen, Sophie squeezed my hand.
“See? Thats him.”
And I dida little life born from a past Id once shared with that man. It hurt… and yet, somehow, it soothed.
“Handsome,” I said truthfully.
“Dyou think Edward will cry when he sees the photo?”
“Undoubtedly. He wept at the end of a rom-com once.”
We laughed. We cried. We became friends.
One night over supper, Sophie asked, “Why did you two really split?”
I set down the knife.
“We were opposites. Mecontrol, himchaos. Mequiet, hima whirlwind. We loved each other but couldnt live together.”
“And with me?”
“With you, hes balanced. You calm him. I just fuelled the fire.”
She smiled through tears. “Youre incredible, Eleanor.”
“No. I just learned to let go.”
When Edward returned, Sophie nearly knocked him over with a hug. He showered me with thanks.
“Eleanor, youre an absolute saint.”
“Yes, a saint who wants dinner at a three-Michelin-starred place,” I reminded him.
They laughed, and as I watched them, I realizedyes, I still loved this man. But now it was a love without demands. A love that could rejoice in someone elses happiness.
“This little ones going to have the best aunt in the world,” Edward said, staring at the scan photo.
“Aunt?” Sophie echoed.
“Well, obviously,” I grinned. “After two weeks, Im officially part of this mad little family.”
“Sure you want to sign up for this chaos?” he joked.
“Too late to back out now,” I said. “Someones got to stop you naming the kid Archibald.”
“Whats wrong with Archibald?!” Sophie protested.
The three of us burst out laughing.
And thats how I became “Auntie” to my ex-husbands child and his wonderful wife. And you know what? I didnt feel so alone anymore.
My story mightve sounded like a bizarre soap opera, but it had everythinglaughter, pain, tenderness, forgiveness.
And when, months later, Sophie called and said,
“Eleanor, wed love you to be our sons godmother,”
I just laughed and replied,
“Well, now Im properly stuck with you lot forever.”