**Diary Entry 12th June**
I still remember the day I had to decide the fate of another womans child. It was a Wednesday, and my husband, James, came home earlier than usual, his face darker than a storm cloud. Without a word, he handed me an envelope.
«Whats happened?»
«Claires gone. Without my consent, they cant send Liam to an orphanage.»
Id known about Jamess son long before we married. A common enough storyhe fell in love while stationed abroad during his military service. After his tour, he brought the girl back, renting a flat together. But she packed up quickly and returned home. Months later, a telegram arrived: *Congratulations, you have a son.* James never told me what went wrong between them, and I never pressed. What was the point in dredging up the past?
When I was four months pregnant, Claire suddenly turned up with one-year-old Liam. She caused a scene, demanding to rekindle things. James sent her awaychose me instead. And I didnt blame him. How could I hold against him what happened before we met? Claire filed for child support, which he paid dutifully, and then she vanished. Years later, we learned shed married twicethe second divorce broke her. She took her own life.
By then, James and I had two children of our own: our son Oliver, just a little younger than Liam, and little Emily, barely a year old. Wed decided on a second child after buying our housea proper home at last. A modest cottage, four rooms, no luxuries, but a garden, a shed, space to breathe. After years in cramped rented flats, it felt like heaven. Oliver raced through the rooms for days, giddy with freedom.
Raising another womans child? That, I hadnt expected. Id only seen the boy once, seven years ago. What was he like now? What had he endured? Fear tightened my chestOliver was already a handful. Two boys, nearly the same agewould they get along? James worked long hours; the children were almost entirely my responsibility. These thoughts flashed through my mind in seconds. James sat frozen in the hallway, his face ashen.
My heart ached. What if it were Oliver? If fate left my boy alone in the world? The answer came instantly.
«Jamie, of course well take him. Hes your sonour childrens brother. How could we live with ourselves if we refused? If we can manage two, well manage three. Well make it work.»
A month later, Liam arrived. Quiet, shy, obedientnothing like bold, boisterous Oliver. Perhaps that difference saved us. The sudden older brother didnt try to lead; he followed, and the boys soon became inseparable. Little Emily, sweet and sunny, charmed everyoneshe adored the world, and the world adored her back.
That autumn, Liam started school. He did wellhis mother must have prepared him. Money was tight, but James worked tirelessly, and I took on part-time work once the children were older. They grew into proper little helpers. We never treated Liam as anything but ours.
When Liam got into university, I fell seriously ill. Months in hospital, surgeryterrifying, but I refused to give in. The children still needed me. I wanted to see them grown, happy, to hold grandchildren someday. But the ordeal broke James. He turned to drink.
At eighteen, Liam became the familys rock. He switched to part-time studies, found work, visited me nearly every dayreading aloud, learning to cook Oliver and Emilys favourite meals, bringing me samples. He kept Olivers troubles from me toohow hed fallen in with a rough crowd, faced charges. Thankfully, it was only probation.
I recovered. My marriage didnt. I couldnt forgive James for abandoning me when I needed him most. The house is big enoughwe live like uneasy neighbours. He tries to quit drinking, but the relapses still come.
A year ago, Liam brought home his fiancéea girl hed loved since nursery. Shes training to be a psychologist and has already started working on Jamess addiction. Life moves on. And soon, the house will echo with grandchildrenthe young couple are expecting twins.
Every day, I thank God for my eldest son. I believe Im alive only because I once made room in my heart for another womans child.
