Sorry, but Im pregnant with your husbands child, confessed the best friend.
An autumn twilight bathed the kitchen in a honeyed glow. Ellen stood at the window, lazily stirring her tea. The silver spoon swirled round the cup as her thoughts swirled too. Something had felt off for weeks, a gut feeling she couldnt shake. Simon was staying late at the office more often, his replies were clipped, he avoided eye contact. And the night before, hed vanished, citing a sudden work trip.
The phone rang, snapping her from the reverie. The caller ID displayed Pippa Ellens confidante of twenty years, a friendship that began at the teachertraining college.
Ellen, we need to talk, Pippas voice was unusually grave. Can I drop by?
Of course, Ellen said, surprised by the urgency. Simons not home, so we can have a quiet chat.
After a brief pause, Pippa whispered, Its exactly about that.
Ellen didnt read into the tone. She and Pippa shared everything: workplace woes, disappointments, triumphs. It was Pippa who had introduced Ellen to Simon at a graduation party fifteen years ago. Fifteen years of marriage not always sunshine, but mostly happy, or so Ellen thought.
When the doorbell rang, Ellen had already set the table. Freshly baked cheese scones, Pippas favourite, filled the air with vanilla and warmth.
Pippa looked drained. Dark circles shadowed her eyes, her pallor showed through even the best concealer, and her jittery movements screamed nervous tension.
Whats wrong? Ellen pulled Pippa into the kitchen, hugging her. You look pale. Trouble at work?
Pippa sat down but didnt touch the tea. She twiddled a napkin as if it were a safety rope.
Ellen, I dont know how to say this I have to confess something.
Ellen leaned across, smiling reassuringly. You can tell me anything. Whatever it is.
Pippas eyes held a mute question, mingled with fear and guilt.
Sorry, but Im pregnant with your husbands child, she blurted, then covered her face with her hands.
Time seemed to freeze. Ellen stared, bewildered, as if shed woken up in a bizarre dream. Suddenly the strange distance Simon had shown her for weeks snapped into place: his odd detachment, the endless overtime, the strained atmosphere at home
What? Ellen managed.
I know its awful, Pippa whispered, tears glistening. I never meant to hurt you. It was accidental. Remember the company Christmas party in June? You were out with the flu.
Ellen recalled Simons earlymorning return, reeking of expensive brandy, regaling everyone with stories of drunken bosses dancing on tables. She had laughed, relieved that he seemed happy.
It was just one night? Ellens voice sounded like it belonged to someone else.
No. We met a few more times after that. I know its unforgivable. Ive betrayed your trust, your friendship.
And Simon? Does he know about the baby?
Yes. I told him last week. Hes stunned. He says he loves you, doesnt want to tear the family apart, but he cant just abandon a child.
Ellen walked to the window. Outside, a maple rustled its golden leaves. How many times shed stared at that tree while waiting for Simon to come home, dreaming of children that never arrived, of endless scans and hopeful doctors visits? And now Simon would be a father to Pippas baby.
Why tell me this? Ellen asked without turning. What do you expect me to say?
I dont know, Pippa whispered. Maybe I hope for forgiveness, even if I dont deserve it. Or perhaps I just think you should hear it from me, not from a neighbour. Im ready to disappear if you want. If you can forgive Simon, I promise Ill never
Dont, Ellen cut in. Dont make promises you cant keep. Hell have his child. You two are linked forever, whether you like it or not.
She looked at Pippa familiar yet suddenly foreign. All those nights of hearttoheart talks had led Ellen to believe she knew her friend as well as herself.
I need time to process this, Ellen said. Please, go.
Pippa stood, hesitated, then said, Ellen, I
Just go, Ellen snapped. Now.
When the door shut, Ellen sank onto the kitchen floor and broke down. Everything shed built, every trust, evaporated in an instant. The husband of fifteen years, the friend shed treated like a sister both had stabbed her in the back.
Simon trudged home late. Ellen sat in the dark sittingroom, lights off. He flicked the switch, pausing at the doorway as he saw her silhouette.
Ellen? Why are you in the dark? Something wrong?
She looked at the man shed shared a bed with for a decade and a half, his face familiar as her own reflection. Pippa came over, she said flatly.
Simons face went ashen; his briefcase slipped from his grip.
What did she say?
Everything. Shes pregnant with you. Youve been seeing each other for months.
He trudged to a chair, sank heavily opposite her.
Ellen, I dont know what to say. Im guilty, thats true. But its not what you think.
What am I supposed to think, Simon? That a few friendly drinks led to a baby?
No, Im not trying to excuse myself. It started at that Christmas party we both had too much brandy. We tried to pretend it never happened, but we met again, and it repeated.
How long did it go on?
About three months. No excuse can cover it, but I never planned to leave you. It was a weakness, a foolish lapse, not love.
What now? Ellen asked. Now theres a child the very child weve been hoping for all these years, but never got.
Simon shivered. I know how painful this is for you. Weve tried for so long, held onto hope
Dont bring that up, Ellen cut him sharply. Dont speak of our hopes. Youve crushed them.
What do you want me to do? he asked quietly.
What do you want to do yourself?
Simon paced the room. I dont know, Ellen. I love you, Im your husband, weve built a life but this child exists. I cant just pretend he isnt there.
Of course you cant, Ellen replied, nodding. And you shouldnt. Hes your son, your blood.
But that doesnt mean I want to be with Pippa. I dont love her. What happened between us was a mistake, a nightmare.
Does she love you?
Simon hesitated. I dont know. We never talked about it.
You ever talked about anything? Ellen sneered. Or was it just you know, for the usual?
Please, Ellen, he begged, reaching for her hand. We can try to fix this. I know itll be hard, maybe almost impossible, but
But what? You think I can simply turn the page and forget theres a child growing somewhere? That every time I see Pippa Ill recall betrayal? Do you really think thats feasible?
Simon lowered his head. I dont know. Im willing to try if you give me a chance.
I need to think. You too. Ill spend the night at my sisters. Well talk tomorrow.
Dont run off, Ellen, he protested, getting up. Lets sort this now.
Whats there to sort? Simon retorted. You made your choice when you lay with my best friend. Now live with the consequences.
Ellens sisters flat was warm and cosy. Claire, her sister, offered no questions, just a hug and a simple, Stay as long as you need.
That night Ellen barely slept. Fragments of memories whirred the early happy years, the endless doctor appointments that never bore fruit, the hopeful whispers that something would change. Now that hope lay shattered.
The next morning Pippa called, her voice cracked. Ellen, I need to talk again. One more time. I have to explain.
Whats there to explain, Pippa? Ellen sighed. Everythings clear.
It isnt. Please give me a chance. Meet me at our little café at one.
The café on the corner of the park, Ellen thought, recalling countless Friday afternoons spent spilling secrets over coffee. Fine. Ill be there.
The café was almost empty. Pippa sat at their usual window table, a untouched cappuccino in front of her. She sprang up when Ellen arrived, then sat back down, unsure how to behave.
Thanks for coming, she murmured as Ellen sat opposite.
Im listening, Ellen replied coolly. What do you want to explain?
Pippa inhaled deeply. I know I dont deserve your attention, let alone forgiveness. But I have to tell you how it really went. I chased Simon. I deliberately seduced him, wanted his attention.
Ellen smirked. And you think that changes anything? Hes an adult, he makes his own choices.
Exactly, Pippa said quickly. Im not absolving him. I just think you deserve the truth. I was jealous, Ellen. You had the perfect life loving husband, lovely home, an interesting career. Im divorced, living alone, men never stick around. That gnawed at me.
So you decided to wreck my happiness?
No! I didnt plan it. It just happened after that Christmas party when you stormed out. Simon was upset, drank heavily. I comforted him, told him you still loved him, that things would be okay. Then well, things happened.
Ellen recalled that petty argument, the one that kept her from the party. She hadnt been ill; shed just been sulky.
And then you kept seeing each other? Ellen asked.
Yes, Pippa lowered her gaze. Simon wanted to stop immediately, kept saying he loved you, that it was a mistake. But I called, texted, found excuses to meet. I knew his weak spots, I knew how to push his buttons.
Why tell me all this? Ellen asked.
Because Simon still loves you, Pippa said simply. He always talked about you how you met, the proposal, the future you planned. I was just a surrogate, a placeholder. I knew it, but I kept going because because you were a part of his life. Silly, right?
Ellen sat in stunned silence, wondering whether Simons betrayal was merely a lapse or something deeper, or if Pippa was trying to manipulate her sympathy.
What about the baby? Ellen finally asked. Was that part of your plan?
No, Pippa shook her head. It was accidental. I didnt plan a pregnancy. When I found out, I decided to keep the child. Not to tie Simon to me, but because Im fortythree and this might be my last chance to be a mother.
Ellen shivered. Those words echoed her own fears about time slipping away.
Im not asking you to understand or forgive me, Pippa continued. I know Ive broken our friendship, betrayed your trust. But if you can forgive Simon hes still the one you love. Hes not the villain here, just flawed.
What happens to the child? Ellen asked. You realise if Simon and I stay together, the baby will still be part of our lives?
I get it, Pippa nodded. I wont get in your way. I wont demand more than the law requires. If you dont want me around, Ill leave, find work elsewhere, maybe move to another city.
Ellen stared at the woman whod been by her side for two decades, now carrying Simons offspring. Anger, hurt, betrayal they swirled together.
I need time, Ellen said, rising. I cant decide now.
Of course, Pippa said quickly. Just dont blame Simon too harshly. Blame me.
Ellen left the café with a heavy heart, strolling through the park, oblivious to the golden leaves and the crisp autumn sky. Fragments of conversation, memories, doubts raced through her mind.
What now? Could she forgive Simon? Live with his child from another woman? Let go of the sting and start anew?
She didnt know. Yet somewhere deep down a tiny hope lingered that even the darkest night can give way to a new dawn, that genuine love might survive such a test.
That evening Ellen returned home. Simon waited in the dim living room, just as shed found him the night before. They talked at length about the past, the future, pain and forgiveness, about rebuilding trust, about the baby who would soon arrive, whatever they decided.
By morning Ellen realised she wasnt ready to erase fifteen years of love because of one terrifying mistake. The road to forgiveness would be long and rocky, but they would try to walk it together.
A week later Ellen called Pippa. I need to talk about the future all three of us.
There was a pause, then Pippas soft voice: Thank you, Ellen. Thank you for not writing me off completely.
I cant promise well be friends again, Ellen admitted. But that child will need a mother and a father. Ill try to find the strength to accept that.
She hung up, walked to the window, and watched golden leaves whirl in a graceful waltz. Autumn a season of letting go, of preparing for the long winter, but also a prelude to spring. After every winter comes a bloom, and perhaps their lives will blossom anew, richer, wiser.
Only time will tell. For now, theyll take each day as it comes, step by step, trusting that even the deepest wound will one day scar over, leaving a reminder of the past, not a barrier to the future.
