There are no secrets between us.
«Jenny! Jen, what are you doing, standing there like a statue? Come on, or well be late for the cinema! We were supposed to grab popcorn too!» called Emily, nudging her friend.
«Huh?» Jenny blinked, startled, and felt her heart hammering in her chest.
«Whats wrong with you? Lets go! The others are already waiting!» Emily snapped impatiently.
«Em, listenI dont feel right. You go ahead. Ill head back to halls,» Jenny muttered.
«Should I call an ambulance? Youve gone completely pale,» Emily fretted, her irritation fading into concern.
«No, no Just apologise to Steve for me, alright?» Jenny tried to steady her voice, but it wavered.
«Fine. Go rest. Maybe its exam stress?» Emily suggested.
«Yeah, maybe,» Jenny forced a weak smile.
Emily left, glancing back a few times. Jenny sank onto a bench, gulped from her water bottle, and wiped her face. The tightness in her chest easedjust a little.
She hadnt told Emily the truth. It wasnt the exams. Moments earlier, a pregnant woman had walked past, pushing a pram with two toddlers in tow. Emily hadnt noticed, but Jennyher hands trembled as she rubbed her cheeks, dragging her back ten years
—
«Jenny! Stop faffing with the dishes! Hurry upI need you to fetch nappies next,» her mother barked, storming into the kitchen.
Jenny dropped a plate. It clattered loudly into the sink. From the next room, baby George wailed.
«Clumsy girl! Go settle him! I just got him down!» her mother shrieked.
«Okay» Jenny croaked, shuffling toward the cot.
She was the eldest in a house where her father had left before she turned two. Her mother cycled through boyfriends, each one leaving a new sibling behindSophie, Lucy, Jake, and now George. The chores, the nappies, the endless rockingit all fell to Jenny.
«Asleep?» her mother, Margaret, asked, cracking open a jar of jam.
«Mhm» Jenny whispered, turning back to the dishes.
«Leave those. Fetch the nappies. Youll finish the washing up after school,» Margaret ordered.
«Mum, Ill be late. My form tutors already on my case,» Jenny protested.
«Ten minutes wont kill you. I skipped school all the time, and look at mefine, arent I?»
Jenny trudged to the shop. On her way back, nappies in hand, she bumped into classmates licking ice creams.
«Oh, lookits Mummy Jenny,» one sneered.
The nickname had stuck since shed started pushing prams instead of going to parties. She didnt hate her siblingsbut she hated the life her mother had shackled her to.
At eighteen, she dreamed of escapeuniversity, a flat in Manchester. Then, one May morning, she found her mother slumped at the table, ghostly pale.
«Mum? Are you ill?»
«Just sick. Fry some eggs, will you? The smell of foods turning my stomach.»
«Whats wrong?» Jennys voice shook.
«Dont be daft. Im pregnant. Me and Dave are having a baby,» Margaret said flatly.
«Why? Youre forty»
«Like I had a choice? Dave insisted. Hes moving in, by the way. Well have to squeeze tighter. Now go fry those eggs.»
That night, Jenny vowed: shed leave and never look back. By August, shed passed her exams and fled in a storm of slammed doors.
The city was freedom. A part-time job, new friends, a promiseno children, ever. Just herself.
—
«Miss? Are you alright?» A mans voice yanked her back.
«Sorrywhat?»
«You looked faint. Do you need help?»
«Just tired. Didnt sleep well.»
«Then let me buy you coffee. Theres a nice place round the corner.»
She agreed. His name was Daniel. They fell into easy conversation, then into love. But the closer they grew, the heavier the dread coiled in her chest. She mightve wanted marriagebut children? The thought choked her.
One evening, Daniel took her to a restaurant. She knew what was comingand rehearsed her refusal.
He slid a velvet ring box across the table.
«Jen, I love you. But before you answer, theres something you should know.»
«Oh?» Her vision blurred with tears.
«I cant have children. Its definite. If you marry me, I need you to understandno adoptions, no compromises.»
«Ill marry you,» she whispered.
«Are you sure?»
«Completely. There are things I need to tell you toobut not here. Just know I never want children. Ever.»
They married. Moved to Bristol. Her mother, her siblingsnone knew where she was. Shed severed it all, curled into this quiet happiness with Daniel.
Some called it strange. But happiness wears different shapes. Their home was warm, peaceful. Daniel climbed the corporate ladder; Jenny opened the art studio shed always dreamed of.
Evenings were for tea on the balcony, shared silences, laughter. No chaos, no screaming. No prams.
Sometimes, memories surfacedbut the sting had faded. They were just footsteps leading her here, to this calm, this love. And when Daniel smiled at her, she knew: shed chosen right.
