I cant abandon my first child, Tom muttered, halfheartedly, as he stared at his phone.
Emma, Harry needs his nursery fees, give me some cash, he called from the livingroom.
Emma halted in the doorway. He was sprawled on the sofa, eyes glued to the screen, not even glancing up. He shook his head.
No money, Em.
What do you mean no money? Emma frowned, stepping forward, hands automatically resting on her hips.
You got your paycheck yesterday.
Tom finally tore his gaze away. His face was stonecold, not a flicker of guilt.
I paid Claire the twomonth alimony shes owed, he said.
Emma froze, a hot wave of indignation rising inside her.
Thats it? Nothing left at all?
His voice betrayed a tremor.
Im down to pennies. I still have to get to work, buy lunch. No spare cash.
He buried his face back in the phone, signalling the end of the conversation. Emmas patience snapped.
You never have money for Harry! Never, Tom! Do you even get it? The nursery, the clothes, the food that all falls on me. You only think about your Claire!
Emma, dont start, Tom grumbled, still not looking up. Alimony is the law. I have to pay. We share the household budget, so whats the difference who pays what?
Emma spun, snatched her coat from the rack, tears threatening to spill. She slammed the flat door shut with a bang.
She stalked down the cold street, wind whipping her hair, and dialed Megans number.
Meg, you home? Can I crash at yours?
Of course. Whats happened?
Later, Ill tell you.
She hung up and flagged a black cab.
Half an hour later Emma was perched at Megans kitchen table, tea steaming in front of her.
Money again? Megan asked.
Emma nodded, taking a sip that burned her lips.
Weve been together five years, Meg. Five years! We have a son together. Yet every time I need cash for Harry I end up begging.
She set the cup down, ran a hand over her face, fatigue crashing over her.
Harrys exwife gets alimony on schedule the law, the court. And Harry? He can wait. Nursery unpaid? Mum will sort it. Sneakers ripped? Mum will buy new ones. And Tom just waves it off: no money, my salary isnt elastic.
She turned toward the window; rain smeared the glass, turning the world into a grey watercolor. Megan clasped her mug, leaning forward.
Did you actually talk about this? she asked.
Scores of times, Emma said with a bitter smile. Every time its the same. I bring up Harry, the money, how Im carrying the load alone. He replies: I cant help, my pay is for us all, I cant abandon my first child. And thats that. Curtain falls.
Megan drummed her fingers on the table, eyebrows knitting together. Emma recognised that look the Im thinking stare.
Youre not married, right?
Correct. We never saw the point in signing anything. Then Harry was born, we were too busy. I was on maternity leave, Tom was at work. No time, no need we were already a unit.
And on Harrys birth certificate, whos listed as father?
Tom, of course.
Emma stared, baffled.
What are you getting at?
Megans smile turned oddly predatory, then triumphlike.
Emma, file for alimony!
Emmas hand froze midair, the cup never reaching her lips.
File for alimony? We live together.
Megan lifted a finger.
But not married. Legally youre just cohabitants, which means you have the right to claim alimony. The laws on your side.
But thats
Fair? Honest? Right? Megan leaned in, conspiratorial. Hes been dodging you for ages. Maybe a threat of alimony will finally make him behave with his own son.
Emma stayed silent. The idea felt both insane and oddly sensible. Part of her wanted to bolt and act, the other part warned it was betrayal.
I dont know. I need to think.
That evening Emma collected Harry from the nursery. The little boy chattered about drawing rockets, while Emmas mind replayed Megans words like a splinter.
At home Tom was still glued to the sofa. Harry ran up, shouting Dad! Tom absentmindedly ruffled his hair and sank back into his phone. Emma clenched her jaw, slipped into the kitchen to start dinner, still undecided about Megans advice.
Ten days later everything shifted.
Harry showed Emma his sneakers; one sole had completely ripped off, the fabric dangling.
Mum, I need new ones, he said, voice full of guilt. I didnt mean to break them.
Emma sat beside him.
Dont worry, love. Tomorrow well get you a proper pair.
She walked over to Tom, who was gaming on his laptop.
Tom, Harry needs new sneakers. Give me some money.
No money, Emma.
He didnt even look up. Something inside Emma snapped. She grabbed his shoulder, spun him around.
Tom! No money again? Again you cant afford something for your own son? How many times do I have to ask?
Dont shout.
Tom shrugged free of her grip.
I told you, theres no money. What do you want?
Emmas restraint finally broke.
I want you to be a father! I want my son not to wander around in holes because you never have cash! If you dont change, Ill go after alimony! Got that?
Tom leapt from his chair, fury distorting his face. He stalked toward her, towering.
What are you talking about? Alimony? Youre as mercenary as Claire! Everyone only wants my money! Im just a walking wallet!
Emma stood her ground, spite and hurt boiling inside.
Dont you dare compare me to her! I believed in you for five years, hoped youd change, and you only get worse!
Tom roared, Then get out! If youre so clever, go!
Emma froze, Toms eyes a cold, empty void.
Fine. Im leaving. Ill still file for alimony. You can bet on that.
She headed to the bedroom to pack. Harry stood in the doorway, eyes wide.
Mum, where are we going?
To Grandmas, love.
She hugged him tight. Well stay with Grandma.
An hour later they arrived at Emmas mothers house. The old woman opened the door, took in her tearstreaked daughter and grandson with their bags, and embraced them without a word.
Come in.
The next morning Emma visited a solicitor. It felt like the end of a fiveyear chapter, the end of a family that never really existed. Yet when she signed the final paperwork, a weight lifted from her shoulders.
Tom tried to claw his way back: calls, texts, frantic visits, promising hed change, pleading to avoid court. Emma was unmoved.
Too late, Tom. Its over.
The court moved swiftly. Alimony was set at about £10,000 a month roughly a quarter of Toms salary. He sat pallid, fists clenched, his jaw trembling. Emma didnt care.
Now she lived with her mother and Harry. The payments arrived reliably each month, far more than what Harry ever got while they lived together.
She bought Harry bright new trainers, the kind hed dreamed of. He ran around the flat, laughing, and Emma watched, knowing shed made the right call.
She and Tom were no longer a couple, but she felt genuinely happy. No longer did she have to beg for every penny or endure humiliation. Tom now paid by law, and that was fair enough.
That night, after tucking Harry into bed, Emma sat at the kitchen table with a cup of tea. Somewhere, Tom fumed, blaming her for his woes. She smiled to herself.
She was free. Shed protected her son. And that was more than enough.
