Emma stood at the edge of a decision: lost love or temporary hardship? She couldnt bear it any longer. The cold indifference of Thomashad he fallen out of love? Last night, hed stumbled home past midnight and collapsed on the sofa.
That morning, over breakfast, she faced him.
Thomas, tell me whats going on.
Whats wrong?
He sipped his tea, avoiding her gaze.
Youve changed since the twins were born.
Havent noticed.
Weve lived like strangers for two yearsdid you notice that?
Listen, what do you want? The house is a mess, it smells of baby formula, the kids never stop screaming. You think anyone enjoys this?
Theyre your children!
He shoved his chair back, pacing the kitchen.
Normal wives have one child who plays quietly in the corner. But you? Two at once! My mother warned mewomen like you only know how to multiply.
Women like me? Whats that supposed to mean?
Women with no purpose.
You made me drop out of uni! Said the family needed me!
Emma sank into her seat. After a beat, she whispered, I think we should separate.
He barely hesitated. Fine. But dont expect child support. Ill give you what I can.
He walked out. She wanted to scream, but the twins babbling from their room pulled her back.
—
A week later, she packed their things and moved into a cramped flat left by her grandmother.
The neighbors were unfamiliar. To one side, a gruff, middle-aged man. To the other, a sprightly sixty-year-old woman. Emma knocked on the mans door first, a forced smile on her face.
Hello! Im your new neighbor. Bought a cakefancy tea in the kitchen?
He eyed her, then muttered, Dont eat sweets, and slammed the door.
Shrugging, she tried the womanMargaret Hargrovewho agreed, but only to lecture her.
I rest during the day and watch telly at night. Keep your boys quiet. No running in the hall, no touching my things!
Emmas heart sank. This wasnt the fresh start shed hoped for.
She enrolled the twins in nursery and took a job thereconvenient, but the pay was meager. Thomas had promised to help.
For three months, he did. Then the money stopped. Soon, she couldnt pay the utilities.
Margarets complaints grew louder. One evening, as Emma fed the boys pasta, the woman swept in, silk robe fluttering.
Dear, have you sorted your finances? Id hate to lose power because of you.
Emma sighed. Not yet. Ill see Thomas tomorrowhes forgotten his children.
Margaret clicked her tongue. Still feeding them carbs? Youre a dreadful mother.
Im a good mother! And keep your nose out of my businessunless you want it broken!
Margaret shrieked loud enough to wake the dead. The noise drew the man next doorGeorge. He waited, silent, as Margaret ranted about feral children and disgraceful parenting. Then he tossed a wad of cash onto the table.
Enough. Heres for the bills.
Margaret froze. When George left, she hissed, Youll regret this.
Emma ignored her. But the next day, Thomas dismissed her pleas.
Times are hard. Ive got nothing for you.
The boys need food!
Then feed them. Im not stopping you.
Ill sue for child support.
Go ahead. My salarys under the tableyoull get pennies.
She returned home in tears. A week until payday, and nothing left. Worse awaited her: a social worker. Margaret had filed a reportEmma was neglectful, her children starving.
For an hour, the woman interrogated her. I must alert child services.
Waitwhy? Ive done nothing wrong!
Protocol. A complaint means action.
That evening, Margaret returned.
One more peep from those boys, and Ill call them myself.
Theyre children! They cant sit still all day!
Feed them properly, and theyd nap instead of rampaging!
The twins cowered. Emma wiped her tears. Eat, loves. Aunties just being silly.
Then George appeared, carrying a bulging bag. Without a word, he filled her fridge.
George, youve got the wrong flat
He left before she could finish.
On payday, she knocked on his door. He opened it, grim as ever.
I owe you for the food. Heres fifty quidIll bring more later.
Keep it. You dont owe me.
The door shut in her face. A scream cut through the flatMargaret, pointing at a spilled teacup.
Vermin! Raised like animals!
Emma sent the boys to their room, cleaned up, then sat with them.
Well be okay. Just hang onwell leave soon.
They clung to her, small hands trembling.
—
The next night, two women and a man stood at her door.
Emma Whitmore?
Yes.
Were from social services.
They barged in, inspecting the fridge, the beds.
Pack the childrens things.
What? No! Youre not taking them!
Liam and Noah wailed, clinging to her. The man pried them loose.
Mummy! Dont let them!
She fought, but they were stronger. The social workers carried the boys out, their cries echoing down the stairs. When the car drove off, Emma collapsed.
Her gaze landed on an old fire axeleft by her grandfather. She picked it up, weighed it in her hands, and marched to Margarets door.
The wood splintered under her blows. Margaret cowered under the bed, screeching. Then George lunged, wrenching the axe away.
Fool! What good does this do?
Emma gasped. Nothing matters now
He dragged her to his flat, forced a sedative into her palm. She swallowed it, planning to runto the bridgebut sleep overpowered her.
George didnt hesitate. He stormed to Margarets.
Happy now?
She trembled. George, I never thought
Retract your complaints by tomorrow. Or I wont stop her next time.
—
For a month, Emma gathered references, took drug tests. George, silent but relentless, pushed her forward. When the verdict camethe boys could returnshe sobbed.
George This is because of you.
He smiled faintly. I had children once. Couldnt save them. But I can help you.
The night before the hearing, she lay awake on his sofa.
George What happened to yours?
His voice was hollow. Had a family. Wife, two boys. Drank my wages, came home shouting. One day, they left. Went to her parents cottage. By the time I followed the place burned down. Electrical fault.
Emma reached for his hand. He pulled away.
Sleep. Tomorrow, you face the panel.
—
Emma Whitmore?
The social worker handed her a file. Do better. Dont let this happen again.
She stared, stunned. The woman smiled.
Well? Go get your boys.
In the waiting room, Liam and Noah barreled into her. Even George turned away, swiping at his eyes.
Enough tears. Lets go home.
Life settled. Margaret stayed hidden. Emma, with Georges help, found factory workenough to scrape by.
Yet George grew quieter. One day, his phone lit upa photo of her. She carried it to him, heart pounding.
He lay on the sofa, eyes wide when she entered. She sat beside him.
George Ive been afraid to say the wrong thing. But the worst regret is never speaking at all.
What are you on about?
She took a breath. Marry me?
He cupped her face, voice rough. Im no good with words. But Id do anything for you and those boys.
