**The Last Chance**
Eleanor curled up on the sofa, clutching her lower abdomen. Everything ached, a familiar pain that told her what was comingagain. The sharp stabbing, the bleeding, the ambulance, the hospital, and then the emptiness. Another miscarriage. No doubt about it. The third in two years, after a stillbirth, and before that, an abortion. The abortion that still haunted her, stealing every chance of motherhood.
She reached for her phone and dialled emergency services. Half an hour later, they loaded her into the ambulance. As they did, she called Edward, her husband, to tell him not to expect her for dinner.
“Again?” he asked. Eleanor didnt reply. Tears streamed down her facetears of despair, of self-loathing. How many times? Why did it keep happening? Or did she already know the reason? If only she hadnt gone to that back-alley doctor all those years ago, she and Edward mightve had a five-year-old by now. But there was no child. And now, it seemed, there never would be.
“It hurts so much,” she gasped. The doctor adjusted her IV, his expression indifferent.
Two agonising days in hospital. Then discharge, Edward waiting with a bouquet of roses, the script playing out exactly as before.
“You look so pale,” he murmured. Eleanor managed a weak smile. What was there to celebrate? She couldnt give him a child. That much was clear.
In the car, clutching the roses, she turned to him. “I dont want to try anymore. I cant give you a baby.”
“Dont say that. Well find a way,” Edward reassured her, but she only scoffed.
“Do you even believe that? Five years wasted. Im nearly thirty, youre almost thirty-five. Enough. The doctors say its hopelessmaybe we should listen.”
“Eleanor, well have children,” he insisted. “Remember what Dr. Whitmore said? Theres still a chance if we follow his advice.”
“And where is Dr. Whitmore now?” she snapped. “Dead. His advice died with him. Its over, Edward. I wont torture us anymore.”
“What are you saying?” His grip tightened on the wheel.
She took a breath and turned away. “Lets end this. Find someone who can give you a child. You deserve that. Im empty. Life wont stay inside meIm worthless.”
Her voice cracked. Edward took her hand, pressed it to his lips. “Dont be absurd. Well manage. Plenty live without childrenso can we. Happiness isnt just in children.”
“But in their absence?” she whispered. “No, Edward. I wont rob you of fatherhood.”
“Then dont rob me of my family,” he cut in.
That was Edwardhead over heels, enduring her moods, willing to endure more if it meant keeping her. Hed fought for her, waited years, and once she was his, he swore nothing else mattered. Except, perhaps, a little bundle of joybut fate had denied them that.
He knew Eleanors past. Knew shed been married off young to a cruel older man by her tyrannical father. Knew the botched abortion that had left her barren. There was no changing it. Eleanor was his now, estranged from her father, barely in touch with her younger sister, Charlotte.
“Wouldnt surprise me if Fathers forcing Charlotte into some marriage next,” shed muttered once.
At twenty-two, Charlotte was beautiful, cleverjust like Eleanorbut more compliant. Their father had raised them alone, cutting their mothers out entirely. He ruled his children like his businesspulling strings, dictating their lives.
Eleanor had fled at twenty-four, met Edward, and severed ties. But when Charlotte turned up on their doorstep one evening, Eleanor froze.
“Whats wrong?” she demanded, only then noticing Charlottes swollen belly.
“I ran away,” Charlotte sobbed, collapsing into her arms. It had been a week since the hospital. Eleanor had just begun to steady herselfand now this.
“What did he want?”
“He he wanted me to get rid of it.”
“My God, youre pregnant!” Eleanor gasped, staring at her sister. “Whos the father?”
“It doesnt matter. It was love, but hes marrieddoesnt want the baby. Father said either I end it, or hed take me to a clinic himself.”
Eleanor held her, crying. Charlotte was so fragile, so afraid. Five years apart, and the awkward girl had become a swanstill trapped under their fathers thumb. Eleanor knew Charlotte would want to go back soon. She couldnt let that happen.
Edward took Charlottes arrival in stride. He never opposed Eleanors choicestoo in love to deny her anything. And she never exploited that.
Sure enough, a week later, Charlotte grew restless.
“I cant stay. Hell be furious”
“Youre not going back!” Eleanor seized her wrists. “You think hell let you keep that baby? Think of your son!”
“Its too late for an abortion now,” Charlotte said firmly. “No doctor would touch me at twenty-one weeks.”
“But he could induce labour!” Eleanor snapped. “Slip something into your teayou wouldnt even know until it was too late. I *know* what thats like!”
Her tears won Charlotte overfor now. But guilt gnawed at her sister, and Eleanor knew shed waver again.
In July, Charlotte gave birthand promptly announced she was leaving. Eleanor snatched the baby, clutching him close.
“Youre not taking him to that monster! You want Father turning him into another brute? Go if you mustbut Daniel stays with me.”
Charlotte shrugged. “Fine. Father only wanted me back*without* the baby. Youre dead to him anyway. Keep the screaming brat.”
Postnatal depression, Eleanor told herself. In time, Charlotte would return. But holding little Danielhis warmth, his scent, his tiny noisesfilled a void shed thought permanent.
“You know shell want him back,” Edward warned gently.
“I know,” Eleanor whispered, heart breaking. On paper, three-month-old Daniel wasnt hers. And nothing stopped his father or her own from claiming him.
Then the call came. Her father, roaring threats: *Return my grandson, or Ill tear you and that husband apart.*
Fear turned her blood to ice. She waited, dreading his arrival. Without Edwards steadying presence, shed have fled with Daniel that instant.
But the confrontation never came.
Instead, tragedy. Charlotte and their father died in a car crash. Daniel was hers now. She threw herself into securing legal guardianshipno other claimants, no more threats.
Amid the paperwork, she forgot her gynaecologist appointment. The doctor scolded her, then paused.
“Waitany chance youve missed a period?”
Eleanor shrugged. “Stress, I thought.”
“*Stress?* Did you take a test?”
A blur of scans later, the truth hit her. Pregnant. *Twelve weeks* pregnant.
“Youve never carried this far,” the doctor said. “A miracle. Bed restnow.”
“But Daniel”
“You have a child *inside you*. Let Edward handle one while you protect the other. Look at the screenthats a healthy baby. Fight for it.”
Two months later, she left the hospital, pregnancy intact, hope renewed. Edward waited outsideroses in hand, pram beside him. Daniel squealed at the sight of her.
She smiled, touched her belly, hugged her husband, then her son. Inside, the baby girl kickeddue in months. A last chance. A happy one. A future, at last.
**Lesson learned:** Fate doesnt close doors without cracking a window. Sometimes, the family youre given isnt the one you plannedbut its the one you fight for.
