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 voice of someone who thinks the day starts at five.
“Yeah?” I grumbled, barely awake.
“Emily, sorry to wake you, but I need a massive favour.”
I sat up in bed. With him, a “massive favour” always meant either disaster or madness.
“Spit it out then,” I sighed.
“Ive got a business trip to Manchester. 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 cut in.
Silence on the other end.
“Just make sure she eats properly, gets to her appointments, doesnt overdo it…”
“Do you even hear yourself, Edward?”
“I do,” he exhaled. “But youre the only one I trust. And Sophie adores you. Says youre the sister she never had.”
Lovely, I thought. The sister who used to be his wife and still isnt entirely sure shes over him.
I hung up, but twenty minutes later, I was at their front door. Sophie answeredwearing a pyjama set dotted with little ducks, her hair mussed, her bump soft and round.
“Emily! I didnt want to bother you, this is all Edwards idea,” she said, flustered.
“Relax, I dont bite. Wheres your globetrotter?”
“Upstairs, hunting for socks. Blue ones. Unsuccessfully, as usual.”
Ah, I knew that struggle well.
“You actually came?” Edward appeared, looking sheepish.
“Yes, but Ive got conditions.”
He tensed. “Which are?”
“No calling every five minutes. Dinner at the fanciest restaurant in town when youre back. And buy Sophie some Belgian chocolatesshes been craving them since yesterday.”
“How did you know?” Sophie blinked.
“Pregnancy radar,” I grinned. “Some things never change.”
Once he finally left, it was just the two of usthe ex-wife and the current one, both slightly awkward.
“Weird, isnt it?” Sophie said, pouring me tea.
“Very. But Ive learned to expect weird by now.”
We fell into a rhythm. Mornings together, breakfasts cooked, chores shared. Binge-watching telly, laughing, talking about everything.
“Be honestdo you still love him?” she asked quietly one evening.
I couldve lied. But not to her.
“Yes. Just not the same way. Its like loving a memory. It aches, but it doesnt hurt.”
She nodded. “I worried you hated me.”
“Believe me, I tried,” I laughed. “But youre too lovely to hate.”
At her next scan, when the tiny heartbeat flickered on the screen, Sophie grabbed my hand.
“See? Thats him.”
And I dida little life spun from a past Id once shared with that man. It stung and yet, somehow, it was peaceful.
“Handsome,” I said truthfully.
“Dyou think Edward will cry when he sees the photo?”
“Undoubtedly. He cried at the end of *Love Actually*.”
We laughed. We cried. We became friends.
One night over pasta, Sophie asked, “Why did you two *really* split?”
I set down the spoon. “We were opposites. Meorder. Himchaos. Mequiet. Hima whirlwind. We loved each other but couldnt live together.”
“And with me?”
“With you, he found balance. You calm him. I just fuelled the fire.”
She smiled through tears. “Youre amazing, Emily.”
“No. I just learned to let go.”
When Edward returned, Sophie nearly knocked him over with a hug. He showered me in thanks.
“Youre an absolute saint.”
“A saint who expects Michelin-starred repayment,” I reminded him.
They laughed, and as I watched them, I realisedyes, I still loved him. But now it was a love without demands. A love that could rejoice in *their* happiness.
“This kids got the best auntie in the world,” Edward said, staring at the scan photo.
“Auntie?” Sophie teased.
“Obviously,” I smirked. “After two weeks, Im officially part of this mad little family.”
“You *sure* you want in on this mess?” he joked.
“Too late to back out now,” I said. “Someones got to stop you naming the baby *Algernon*.”
“Whats wrong with Algernon?!” Sophie gasped.
We all dissolved into laughter.
So I became “Auntie” to my ex-husbands child and his wonderful wife. And you know what? I wasnt lonely 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, “Emily, we want you to be his godmother,” I just laughed and said:
“Well, now Im *really* stuck with you lot forever.”
