**Dear Diary,**
She had made her choice.
“Why aren’t you dressed yet?” Emily stood in the doorway, barely holding back irritation. “Have you forgotten what day it is?”
“What’s so special about today?” James didn’t even look away from the telly, lazily flipping through channels. “Are we supposed to go somewhere again?”
“We need to get to the hospital! Charlotte’s had her baby—you heard it yourself. She’s the first in our group to become a mother. We should congratulate her!”
“Congratulate her on what?” He smirked, still clicking the remote. “On sleepless nights? On a screaming infant? On losing control of her own life? Doesn’t sound much like a celebration to me.”
“What are you on about? You always said you wanted kids! You went on about how you couldn’t wait to hear little feet running around the house, tiny arms hugging your neck. You said—three, at least! Or did I imagine that?”
“Yeah, I said it. But let’s be honest, it sounded good, didn’t it? Women love that sort of talk. And you fell for it,” James replied calmly.
Emily sank onto the sofa, stunned. Her face froze in disbelief.
“Well, I don’t want kids. What’s the big deal? Most blokes don’t. Haven’t you considered living for yourself for once? Travel, hobbies, freedom… But no, all you lot think about is nappies and settling down.”
“Will you take me?” Her voice turned icy. She couldn’t hide her hurt—not today of all days, when she’d planned to tell him her biggest news.
“Can’t they manage without us? I don’t want to watch all that nonsense, the cooing and crying. Go later. Might even make you reconsider having one.”
Without another word, Emily left for the bedroom. A quarter of an hour later, she returned, dressed sharply, elegantly. She’d already called a cab—thank God, she wouldn’t have to listen to James’ bleak remarks.
She had been so close to happiness… Just this morning, she’d seen those two lines on the test. She’d planned to give him the news tonight. But now… now she wasn’t sure he even deserved to know.
Emily had always sought stability. She’d worked while studying, graduated with honours, landed a brilliant job, earned a steady income—her flat a gift from her parents. She’d done everything right. She was ready for a child. But the man she’d believed would be the father of her children turned out to be nothing but a good actor.
James had seemed mature, dependable, sincere. His age, his words, his views—everything had radiated confidence. Only today had he dropped the act.
“I’ve made my choice,” she whispered into the empty taxi. The driver, a quiet older man, turned his head, studied her, and unexpectedly said, “Congratulations.”
Emily hesitated, thanked him, then hurried to the hospital entrance. There stood Charlotte, glowing, a tiny bundle in her arms. The father was already cradling the baby. The air was thick with joy.
“Congratulations, love!” Emily hugged her friend. “What’s his name?”
“Oliver, after his granddad. I want you to be his godmother.”
“I’d be honored,” Emily smiled, though her heart ached. Everything she wanted was right there in front of her—just not hers.
“Something wrong?” Charlotte murmured as they stepped aside.
“James lied. He doesn’t want kids. Said he did. And the worst part—I’m pregnant. Found out this morning. Now… now I have to choose.”
“Emily, men are nothing special. But the chance to be a mum? That is. My sister couldn’t have kids. She cried with joy and pain when she found out I was expecting. Don’t give up on what you really want.”
“I won’t. If he doesn’t change his mind—I’ll leave. My parents will be thrilled to be grandparents.”
James didn’t change his mind. Called children a drain on time, energy, and money. Emily didn’t argue. Her decision was already made.
**Three years later.**
“Oh, James!” His former neighbour nearly collided with him at Heathrow. “Congratulations on your son!”
“You’re mistaken. I don’t have children,” he replied coldly.
“Really? I saw Emily—with a pram. The little one’s about four months. I can count, you know.”
James went pale. He hadn’t known. Or hadn’t wanted to. And now… now it was too late.
“Where is she? Where did you see her?”
“Not telling. Just bumped into her. Turns out you’re one of those… who walk away from their own child.”
James stood there, frozen. Only now did he realise what he’d lost. But by the time he tracked Emily down three years later, it was over. The boy called another man “Dad.” James couldn’t compete. Not in love, not in action, not in heart.
The ending was inevitable. Emily had chosen right.
**Lesson learned:** Some masks stay on too long—until you forget what’s underneath. But a life built on lies crumbles eventually. Better to walk away than spend years pretending.
