When the phone rang at seven in the morning, I already knewit was Roger. Only he would call at such an ungodly hour with the energy of someone who thinks the day starts at five.
“Yeah?” I grumbled, barely awake.
“Carla, sorry to wake you, but… I need a massive favor.”
I sat up in bed. With him, a “massive favor” always meant either disaster or sheer madness.
“Spit it out, then.”
“Ive got a business trip to London. Two weeks. And Sophies six months pregnantthe doctors told her to take it easy…”
“You want me to look after your pregnant wife?” I cut in.
Silence hummed on the other end.
“Just make sure she eats properly, gets to her appointments, doesnt stress…”
“Do you hear how this sounds, Roger?”
“I know,” he sighed. “But youre the only one I trust. And Sophie adores you. Says youre the sister she never had.”
Lovely, I thought. The sister who was once married to her husband and still isnt sure shes completely over him.
I hung up, but twenty minutes later, I was standing at their front door. Sophie answeredwearing pajamas covered in little ducks, her hair a mess, her belly round and glowing.
“Carla! I didnt want to bother you, this was all Rogers idea,” she said, flustered.
“Relax, I dont bite. Wheres your globetrotter?”
“In the bedroom, hunting for socks. Blue ones. Failing, as usual.”
Oh, I knew that routine well.
“You actually came?” Roger peered out.
“Yes, but I have conditions.”
He tensed. “Which are?”
“No calling every five minutes. Take me to the fanciest restaurant when youre back. And buy Sophie Belgian chocolatesshes been craving them since yesterday.”
“How did you know?” Sophie blinked.
“I can tell,” I said, smiling. “Pregnancy cravings are unmistakable.”
When he finally left, it was just the two of usthe ex-wife and the current one, both a little lost.
“Strange, isnt it?” Sophie said, pouring me tea.
“Very. But Im used to strange by now.”
We spent our days together. Id arrive in the morning, make breakfast, help around the house. We watched telly, laughed, talked about everything.
“Be honestdo you still love him?” she asked quietly one day.
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 sting.”
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 grabbed my hand.
“See? Thats him.”
And I dida little life born from a past I once shared with that man. It hurt… and yet, it was peaceful.
“Gorgeous,” I said honestly.
“Think Roger will cry when he sees the photo?”
“Absolutely. He cried at the end of *Love Actually*.”
We laughed. We cried. We became friends.
One evening over dinner, Sophie asked, “Why did you two really split?”
I set down the knife.
“We were opposites. I was order; he was chaos. I was quiet; he was a storm. 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 incredible, Carla.”
“No. I just learned to let go.”
When Roger returned, Sophie nearly knocked him over hugging him. He showered me with thanks.
“Carla, 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 realisedyes, 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,” Roger said, staring at the scan photo.
“Aunt?” Sophie repeated.
“Obviously,” I grinned. “After two weeks, Im officially part of this weird, happy family.”
“Sure you want to sign up for this chaos?” he teased.
“Too late to back out now,” I said. “Someones got to stop you naming the kid Algernon.”
“Whats wrong with Algernon?!” Sophie gasped.
The three of us burst out laughing.
So I became “Auntie” to my ex-husbands child and his wonderful wife. And you know what? I didnt feel lonely anymore.
My story mightve sounded like a plot from a bizarre soap opera, but it had everythinglaughter, pain, tenderness, and forgiveness.
And when, months later, Sophie called and said, *”Carla, I want you to be our sons godmother,”*
I just laughed and replied,
*”Well, now Im officially stuck with you lot forever.”*
