14March
I went to bed hoping for a quiet night. Enough of the endless crying, I shouted, slamming the bedroom door as Andrew stormed out.
Emily pressed our sixmonthold son, Milo, tighter to her chest. The little boy was wailing nonstop, his tiny face flushed from the strain. She rocked him gently, humming a lullaby, but nothing soothed him.
Come on, little one, settle down, she whispered, stroking his back. Mums right here, its all fine.
The past months have been a blur of sleeplessness and worry. Milo has become a nervous little creature, frequently ill and waking at all hours. Emily has sunk into motherhood, while Andrew seems to exist in a parallel world where a crying baby and parental duties simply dont exist.
While she rocked him, Emilys thoughts drifted back to yesterdays chat with her friend, Claire, over coffee.
Does he ever help you out? Claire had asked.
Help? Emily shook her head. Hes either at work, with his mates, or with his mother. He only comes home to crash for the night.
And the money? He knows youre on maternity leave.
Emily forced a bitter smile.
Sometimes he chips in, but its never enough. Diapers, formula, medicines they cost a fortune.
Now, with Milo finally asleep, Emily gently placed him in his cot, slipped out of the nursery, and padded to the kitchen. The flat was silent; Andrew was already snoring on the sofa.
The next two weeks turned into a nightmare. Milo stopped sleeping through the night entirely; his cries echoed through every room. I was on my feet from exhaustion, and Andrew, when he finally shuffled home in the early hours, grew increasingly irritable.
Are you doing this on purpose? he hissed one night, pulling the pillow from under his head. Why cant you calm him? I need my sleep!
I kept rocking the sobbing Milo.
Im trying! Hes just a baby, his teeth are coming in, hes in pain.
Andrew snatched the blanket and headed for the door.
Im going to sleep in the lounge. Deal with the crying yourself!
Days blended together. Andrews visits grew rarer, and I barely had the energy to speak to him.
One evening I returned from a walk to find Andrew standing in the hallway, a travel bag in his hand.
Whats going on?
He didnt look at me or the baby.
Im leaving to stay with my mum, he said, zipping his bag. I wont be living here while the kid is still little.
I stood frozen, disbelief in my voice.
Youre joking, arent you?
No, he replied, eyes still elsewhere. I need nights of sleep too. Its impossible here he screams all the time and you do nothing.
I carefully adjusted the pram so as not to wake Milo, crossed my arms, and asked, Remember you wanted this child? You said now was the right time, that wed face it together.
He shrugged. I didnt think itd be this hard. I counted on a normal, calm baby.
He grabbed his bag and walked away, leaving me standing in the corridor, the babys soft whimper in the background. He muttered, Ill call, and left.
I lingered in the hallway, then shuffled to the kitchen and slumped into a chair. Tears streamed down my cheeks, unnoticed by my own eyes.
The following day I called my mother.
Lina, love, whats happening?
Andrews gone. He says hell come back when Milos bigger.
What do you mean gone? Whos his father then? File for divorce and claim maintenance. Dont wait around!
For two weeks I hoped for his call, unwilling to shatter the family so quickly. The phone stayed silent. Andrew vanished as if hed never existed.
I finally decided enough was enough.
Later that night he appeared at the door, his bag in hand.
What have you done? Why did you file for divorce? Im his father!
I sneered.
Father? Youve been away for almost a month, never called, never asked about Milo.
I just needed a break to think.
I turned away.
I need a husband, not a coward who runs when things get tough. Im handling everything alone. I dont need a man like you.
We divorced swiftly. I secured child support, and the first year of Milos life went by without a fathers presence. Andrew phoned once a month or two, asking how we were, but nothing more.
When Milo turned eighteen months, he grew calmer. Then Andrew began to show up more often, asking to join us on weekends, insisting he wanted to be part of his sons life.
I want to be involved, he said. Give me a chance.
I agreed, not wanting to deprive Milo of a father. That lasted another six months.
After a café outing, we returned to my flat. Andrew asked to use the bathroom. I nodded, tended to Milochanged him, dressed him in pajamas, and settled him in his playpen with toys.
A furious shout came from the bathroom.
Emily! Whats this? Explain yourself!
I peeked into the hallway. Andrew stood in the doorway, clutching a toothbrush.
Whats the problem?
He flushed with anger.
Why are there two toothbrushes? Explain!
I shrugged.
Its my boyfriends brush. He sometimes stays over. Whats the issue?
His face twisted.
Youre cheating on me? Not even ashamed?
Cheating? I blinked, stunned. Andrew, weve been divorced for over a year.
The divorce is just paperwork! he shouted, brandishing the brush. I was helping with the child. I thought when Milo grew up Id come back and propose again!
I stared, disbelief clear in my voice.
You asked if I needed a husband? Ive tolerated you only for Milos sake. I fell out of love with you long ago, right when you left.
He ranted on, calling me flighty and accusing me of destroying our strong family and bringing a stranger into the house. Milo whimpered in the playpen, frightened by the shouting. I scooped him up, soothing him.
That stranger, I whispered, has been my rock since the divorce. I met Max three months later, when I was working from home and raising Milo alone. We ran into each other in a shop; I was exhausted, barely standing.
I stroked Milos head. Max has been my support. Youre just a man who occasionally pops in to play with his son. To me, youre an empty space.
Andrew turned crimson, threw the toothbrush onto the floor, and headed for the door.
Youll regret this, he hissed.
After that, he kept his distance, always finding a reason to needle me.
Your mothers a bad mum, isnt she? he whispered to Milo. She split you up. Soon youll see what shes done.
I put up with it until one evening, after Milo fell asleep in his pram, I said, Listen, I wont go back to you, even if Max and I break up. Youre not the person I can rely on.
What do you need me for, then? Andrew snapped. A kid on your back and a temperament like a viper.
From that point his contact with Milo stopped entirely. He stopped calling and visiting. A strange relief washed over me; Id always suspected he wanted a convenient life, not a family.
Three months passed without any word from him. I watched Milo build towers with Max, laughing as he was tossed gently into the air.
One afternoon Max took my hand.
Emily Ive wanted to ask you this for ages. Will you marry me?
I smiled, no hesitation.
Yes.
That night I tucked Milo into bed, and for the first time in a long while I didnt think about my exhusband. A new chapter has begun, and theres no room for the mistakes of the past.
