**Diary Entry**
She had made up her mind.
“Why aren’t you dressed yet?” Tanya stood in the doorway, barely masking her irritation. “Have you forgotten what day it is?”
“What’s so special about today?” Ilya didn’t even glance away from the telly, lazily flipping through channels. “Are we supposed to go somewhere again?”
“We’re meant to go to the hospital! Lena’s had her baby—you heard. She’s the first in our group to become a mum. We have to congratulate her!”
“Congratulate her on what?” He smirked, still clicking the remote. “On sleepless nights? A screaming infant? On life never being hers again? Doesn’t sound much like a celebration to me.”
“What are you on about? You’re the one who always talked about wanting kids! You said you couldn’t wait for little footsteps running through the house. For tiny arms wrapped around your neck. You wanted three, no less! Or was I dreaming?”
“Sure, I said it. But admit it—it sounds good. Women love that sort of thing. You certainly melted,” Ilya replied calmly.
Tanya sank onto the sofa, stunned into silence. Her whole face stiffened with shock.
“I just don’t want kids. What’s the big deal? Most blokes don’t. Have you ever considered living for yourself? Travel, hobbies, freedom… Yet all you lot think about is nappies, family, responsibilities.”
“Are you taking me or not?” Her voice turned icy. She couldn’t hide the hurt—especially when she’d planned to tell him the most important news of her life tonight.
“They’ll manage without us. I don’t want to watch that ridiculous fussing and cooing. Go by yourself. Maybe it’ll put you off the whole idea.”
Without another word, Tanya retreated to the bedroom. Fifteen minutes later, she emerged in a sharp, elegant outfit. A taxi was already on the way—thank God she wouldn’t have to endure Ilya’s bitter remarks.
She had been so close to happiness… Just this morning, she’d seen those two lines on the test. She’d wanted to share the news with him tonight. But now… now she wasn’t sure he even deserved to know.
Tanya had always craved stability. She’d worked through university, graduated with honours, and now had a brilliant career, a steady income, and a flat of her own—a gift from her parents. She’d done everything right. And she was ready for a child. But the man she’d believed would be the father of her children had turned out to be nothing but a convincing actor.
Ilya had seemed mature, dependable, serious. His age, his words, his outlook—everything had promised security. Only today had he finally dropped the act.
“I’ve made my decision,” she whispered into the empty cab. The driver, a quiet older man, glanced at her app raisingly and unexpectedly said, “Congratulations.”
Tanya flustered. She thanked him and hurried inside. There, glowing with joy, stood Lena, cradling a tiny bundle. The proud father already held the baby close. The air was thick with love.
“Congratulations, darling!” Tanya hugged her friend. “What’s his name?”
“Henry, after my dad. I want you to be his godmother.”
“I’d be honoured.” Tanya smiled, though her heart ached. Everything she wanted was right here—just not with her.
“Something wrong?” Lena murmured once they’d stepped aside.
“Ilya lied the whole time. He doesn’t want kids. And he said he did. And the worst part—I’m pregnant. Found out today. Now… now I have to choose.”
“Tanya, men are a dime a dozen. But the chance to be a mum? That’s rare. My sister, for example—she can’t conceive. She cried from happiness and heartache when she found out I was expecting. You can’t give up on this.”
“I won’t. If he doesn’t change his mind, I’m leaving. My parents will be over the moon to be grandparents.”
Ilya never changed his mind. He ranted about children being burdens, a waste of time, money, energy. Tanya didn’t argue. Inside, she’d already decided.
Three years later.
“Oh, Ilya!” A former neighbour nearly collided with him at Heathrow. “Congratulations on your son!”
“You’ve mistaken me—I don’t have children,” he snapped.
“Don’t you? I saw Tanya—with a pram. The lad’s about four months. I can do the maths, you know.”
Ilya paled. He hadn’t known. Or hadn’t wanted to. And now… now it was too late.
“Where is she? Where did you see her?”
“I won’t say. Just a chance meeting. Shame, really—you’re the sort who disowns his own child.”
Ilya stood frozen. Only then did he realise what he’d lost. When he finally tracked Tanya down three years later, it was over. The boy called another man “Dad.” Ilya couldn’t compete—not in love, not in deeds, not in heart.
The ending was inevitable. Tanya had chosen right.
