“You two seem to have such a serious relationship now,” Margaret said insistently, almost demandingly, her eyes locked on the woman who might soon be her daughter-in-law. “So when are you planning the wedding?”
“It’s probably not the right time yet,” Emily replied with a forced smile, picking her words with care so as not to upset her future mother-in-law. “We’ve only been living together for a month. We ought to wait a little, get to know each other better day to day… Who knows, we might start bickering over silly things?”
Margaret lifted an eyebrow but refused to drop the matter. Truth be told, she liked Emily far more than Nicholas’s last girlfriend. That one had been impossible and arrogant. Thank goodness he had walked away from her.
“And how is Oliver getting on?” she asked, shifting the subject while her stare stayed sharp. “The boy’s practically grown, yet still…”
A warm feeling spread through Emily at the mention of Nicholas’s son. Memories of their early days together rose unbidden. Back then she had fretted constantly: how would the teenager react to a new woman in the house? Would he view her as a threat, someone trying to take his mother’s place?
“He’s wonderful,” Emily answered honestly, her smile softening into something genuine. “Of course I was anxious at first. I worried Oliver might resent me or at least keep his distance. But it all worked out beautifully. He turned out to be such an open, friendly lad.”
She paused, remembering the afternoon Oliver had burst in from school, tasted her pie with delight, and announced that proper home cooking had finally arrived.
“More than that,” Emily went on with a faint grin, “he was thrilled that someone who actually knows their way around the kitchen would be handling meals instead of his father. He even asks me to show him recipes sometimes.”
Nicholas, who had listened in silence until now, finally raised his head and gave a short nod in agreement. A brief smile crossed his face, as though he too was relieved that his son and his partner had settled into such an easy rhythm.
“Has he started asking for a little brother yet?” Margaret inquired with a pointed hint.
Nicholas winced at his mother’s question and shot her a quick, reproachful look. His eyes said plainly, “Why bring that up again?” He knew her habits too wellshe never shied away from the most sensitive subjects, oblivious to how uncomfortable they made everyone else.
“What’s the harm in asking?” Margaret replied without a trace of embarrassment, pressing on with cheerful, almost playful energy as if the topic were perfectly ordinary. “Oliver loves children; he’s always playing with his cousins. And you’re only thirty-fiveyou’ve plenty of time to raise a couple of your own.”
Emily felt a surge of discomfort. It was mortifying to discuss something so private and painful in front of a woman she hardly knew. She gripped her fingers tightly beneath the table, struggling to keep her expression steady.
“I’m afraid that’s not possible,” she said evenly, forcing her voice to stay level. “The doctors have made it clear I shouldn’t have children.”
Silence fell across the room. Margaret’s eyebrows rose as she absorbed the words. Her face shifted at oncethe polite mask vanished, replaced by a cold, distant look.
“Women’s troubles, is it?” she murmured with affected sympathy, a hint of condescension creeping into her tone. “But don’t give up hopemedicine moves forward. What once seemed impossible can be handled easily enough these days.”
Emily exhaled softly. She wanted to end the conversation, yet she knew silence would only make things worse. She glanced at Nicholas, hoping for support, but he merely shrugged, as if to say she was on her own.
“In my case it wouldn’t work,” she said quietly, staring ahead. She still could not understand why she had to bare her soul to this near-stranger. Yet staying quiet was not an option either; Margaret might assume something else entirely. “I have serious problems with my sight. The diagnosis came when I was eighteen. I’ve had years to accept it: I won’t be having children.”
Margaret went still, clearly trying to make sense of it. Her brows lifted, genuine confusion plain on her faceas though she had encountered something she could not grasp.
“What has sight got to do with children?” she asked, tilting her head. She saw no link at all and suspected it was merely a weak excuse. “I don’t follow.”
Emily drew a steady breath, searching for the right words. She had no wish to delve into medical details, yet she could not dodge the question.
“There is a ninety percent chance I will lose my sight,” she explained in a calm, measured voice. “That kind of strain on the body is strictly off-limits for me; the risk is far too high. It simply isn’t worth it, don’t you see? What good is a child I might never even be able to see?”
She stopped, giving Margaret time to take it in. Emily adjusted her glasses with nervous fingers. She needed the older woman to understand this was no passing fancy or concern about her figure. It was a genuine threat.
Emily could feel the disappointment thickening in the air. Margaret made no further effort at conversation, only casting occasional glances filled with open disapproval. It was obvious that this prospective daughter-in-law did not match the picture she had in mind. She had probably imagined a robust, energetic woman who would soon present her with grandchildren.
Emily felt no guilt and no urge to defend herself. She and Nicholas had talked the situation through long before, weighing every possibility. Consultations with doctors, evenings spent poring over information, honest conversations between themall of it had led to the same conclusion. The danger to her health was too great, and neither of them wanted to expose her to it. If necessary, they could look at adoption or a surrogate. These days it was not so difficult to arrange.
When the couple finally rose to leave, the tension eased a fraction. Margaret embraced her son at the door and nodded to Emily, though the gesture held no warmthonly polite form. As they pulled on their coats in the hallway, Emily caught Nicholas’s eye. His look carried a silent apology.
Outside, both drew a breath of relief. The evening air felt especially clean after the strained exchange. Emily reached for Nicholas’s hand and he closed his fingers around hers at once. Neither spoke of what had passed, yet both understood the meeting with his mother had not gone well. Still, it changed nothing about their choice to stay together, whatever others might expect or assume…
Three months later.
Emily kept noticing she did not feel herself. At first she paid it little mindperhaps she was simply worn out from work or had picked up a mild bug. But when the discomfort lingered for days, worry began to set in.
She felt a constant light weakness, waves of nausea in the mornings, and everyday smells suddenly turned unpleasant. Emily tried to manage aloneshe bought remedies at the pharmacy, drank extra water, went to bed earlier. No improvement followed. She caught herself losing focus at work and collapsing with exhaustion each evening even when she had done nothing strenuous.
One evening, on the phone with her mum, Emily found herself admitting how she felt. Her voice came out subdued; the strange lethargy still clung to her.
“Emily,” her mum asked after a brief pause, “are you quite certain you’re not pregnant?”
Emily was taken aback by the suggestion. She paused, turning the question over, then answered firmly.
“Absolutely. I haven’t missed a single pill. The doctor prescribed them after a full check-up, all exactly as instructed.”
Her mum did not argue, but her tone remained steady.
“Buy a test anyway, for your own peace of mind. This is far too important to ignore.”
Emily had been ready to insist it could not be pregnancy, yet something in her mum’s voice made her hesitate. A test was simple enough, and a little extra certainty could not hurt.
“All right, Mum. I’ll pop to the pharmacy now. Nicholas is at work, so I’ve got time,” Emily said and ended the call.
She grabbed her things, slipped on her jacket and stepped out. The pharmacy was only a few minutes’ walk in the next building. Emily moved faster than usual, as though trying to leave her thoughts behind. The same questions looped in her mind: “What if Mum is right? But how could it have happened? We were so careful…”
Inside the pharmacy she hesitated before the shelf of test kits. There were far more options than she had expecteddifferent brands, different styles. Emily looked helplessly at the pharmacist, then back at the display. At last she chose two mid-priced ones; it seemed foolish to cut corners on something like this. She paid at the counter and hurried home.
Back in the flat she paused in the hallway, trying to steady her nerves. Her hands shook slightly as she opened the packets. She followed the instructions and waited.
The first minutes stretched out painfully. Emily kept glancing at the clock, then at the tests. Two clear lines appeared on the first. She checked the secondidentical lines had formed there too.
“How can this be?” she burst out, a rush of confusion flooding through her. “This is impossible. I was so careful!”
The doorbell rang sharply. Emily started. She checked the timeit was not the hour for casual visitors. Then she realised it must be Oliver. The boy often forgot his keys when he rushed home from school.
Emily quickly dropped the tests into the bin, smoothed her hair and went to the door. Oliver stood there, slightly breathless, backpack slung over one shoulder.
“Forgot your keys again?” she said with a smile, stepping aside to let him in.
“Yeah,” he admitted, kicking off his trainers. “I was rushing and only realised once I was outside…”
Emily headed for the kitchen to feed the clearly hungry teenager. She had no idea that one of the tests had missed the bin and now lay exposed on the floor…
“Nicholas, I’m going to stay with my mum for a weekshe’s not well,” Emily said, avoiding her fiancé’s eyes. Lying to the man she loved felt wretched, yet she could not tell him the truth right now. She had no other choice. Risking her health was unthinkable; her mind was made up…
Nicholas looked up from his laptop at once, concern clear in his face.
“Do you need anything?” he asked quickly. “Shall I bring medicine? Or come with you? She shouldn’t be on her own…”
Emily managed a small, guilty smile. His eagerness to help touched her, but it only made the situation harder.
“Nothing’s needed yet, thank you,” she answered as steadily as she could. “I’ll call if anything changes.”
She turned away and continued packing a small bag: jumper, jeans, a few tops, underwear, toothbrush. Time was slipping awayless than an hour remained before the last bus to the nearby town, and she still had to reach the station. Her mum would be waiting, and that small certainty helped: someone who would understand without asking too many questions.
“Keep in touch, all right? Call straight away if you need me. I can come at any time.”
“Of course,” Emily nodded, leaning into him for a moment. “I’ll be back before you know it.”
The journey to the station passed in a blur. She checked her phone constantly for messages from Nicholas or her mum. Her thoughts were tangled, but she held tightly to the plan: arrive, deal with it, return. Only then, once everything was settled, would she speak to Nicholashonestly, without half-truths.
The next day Emily visited a private clinic. She had booked online, chosen the doctor from reviews, and arranged everything to avoid awkward questions. The appointment was brisk and routine: examination, blood tests, ultrasound. The doctor, a calm middle-aged woman, reviewed the results, checked the dates and asked about her history once more.
“Yes, you are pregnant,” she said at last. “Only five or six weeks.”
Emily nodded without speaking. A faint hope still lingered that it was all a mistake, that the tests and results had somehow been wrong. Now that hope faded.
“But I was taking the pills! How could this happen?” Her voice shook with confusion and barely contained alarm. She had followed every instruction exactly.
The doctor tilted her head, taking her time before answering. She folded the papers neatly first, then met Emily’s eyes.
“The medication might have been faulty,” she suggested in a professional tone. “Or other factors could have reduced its effectivenessantibiotics taken at the same time, missed doses, digestive issues. It happens, though not often.”
She waited a moment, watching Emily’s reaction, then continued gently.
“I take it you do not intend to continue the pregnancy?”
Emily closed her eyes briefly. She had asked herself the same question countless times in recent days. The doctors’ warnings from years ago echoed againthe risk that had never disappeared. She breathed deeply and answered with as much steadiness as she could muster.
“The chance of blindness is nine to one. Do you think I can accept that risk?”
The doctor nodded with understanding. She had already seen the notes and knew the danger was real. In these circumstances, Emily’s decision made sense.
“I understand,” she said softly. “It is a serious choice, and you are entitled to make it based on your health. I’ll write referrals for further tests. They will give us a clearer picture and help decide the best next steps.”
She turned to the computer, entered the details and printed several forms. She folded them and passed them across.
“Come back tomorrow for a follow-up. We’ll have the results by then and can discuss what comes next. Call the clinic if you have questions or feel unwellthey’ll put you through to me.”
Emily took the papers and smoothed them absently. Her thoughts were still racing, yet they felt slightly more organised. She thanked the doctor with a brief nod and stood. In the corridor she paused, leaning against the wall, and drew a long breath. Tomorrow would bring another dayand another stage in this difficult process…
“Emily!” Nicholas’s voice came brightly down the line, so full of life that Emily tensed at once. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Everything inside her tightened. She clutched the phone, fighting a sudden tremor.
“Tell you what?” she asked cautiously, keeping her voice even. The thought flashed through her: “Has he found out? How?”
“That you’re pregnant!” Nicholas said with unmistakable joy, as though he were already picturing their shared future.
Emily shut her eyes for a second, trying to steady herself.
“What makes you think that?” she replied, aiming for calm while her heart hammered.
“I found the test with two lines on the floor,” Nicholas explained, his tone free of doubt or worryonly pure excitement. “I’ve already booked you with a top specialist. Shall we go together? I want to be there for you.”
Emily drew a deep breath, choosing her words carefully. She had to dampen his enthusiasm without wounding him.
“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” she said gently but firmly. “It’s almost certainly a mistake. You know I’m on the pills. I followed every instruction, never missed a dose. This cannot be real.”
A pause stretched between them. Emily could almost feel Nicholas struggling to absorb her words.
“Well, about that…” he began hesitantly, embarrassment entering his voice. “Mum visited recently. She spotted your pills and started insisting your condition isn’t as serious as you think. She said plenty of women with far worse problems have children and everything turns out fine. She gave examples of friends, talked about modern ways of handling pregnancy… She was so convinced that… well, I let her persuade me.”
Nicholas stopped, waiting. Emily listened in silence, a storm of conflicting feelings rising. She understood he had simply wanted to believe things could be better. Yet it angered her that someone else was meddling in their lives, deciding for her.
“Are you saying she talked you into tampering with my pills?” she asked evenly, though anger simmered beneath.
“No, nothing like that!” Nicholas protested at once. “She just convinced me not to stick so rigidly to the prescriptions. That it might be worth taking a chance. I never imagined it could lead to this. I’m sorry.”
A cold shiver ran down Emily’s spine. Words caught in her throat and she forced out the question.
“What did you actually do?”
Nicholas looked down, gripping the edge of the table. He was clearly uncomfortable, yet he gathered himself and spoke.
“I… dropped your bottle by accident and the pills spilled. I thought maybe it was a sign, so I replaced them with vitamins. I wanted us to have a child. Mum assured me everything would be all right…”
Emily stood frozen, trying to take in what she had heard. She could not reconcile the man she loved with this action. She had explained so many times how vital the daily medication was, what even one missed dose could mean, what the consequences might be…
“You’re serious?” Her voice shook. She clenched her fists as indignation surged. “You did this on purpose? You listened to your mother and swapped the medicine?”
Nicholas shifted his weight, searching for a way out of the conversation.
“I thought it would be better for our family…” he answered quietly, eyes still lowered.
“For our family?” Emily could no longer hold back. Anger made her voice tremble, but she spoke clearly so he would grasp the gravity. “You didn’t even ask me! You knew my diagnosis, knew the risksand you went behind my back!”
She paused, willing her hands to stop shaking. Her temples throbbed and thoughts raced, yet one fact stood clear: she could not continue this talk now.
“I just wanted children…” Nicholas tried, his voice almost pleading. “I believed we could manage together.”
Emily breathed deeply, forcing herself to calm. She needed time to think.
“I can’t talk about this right now,” she said more steadily, though the emotions still burned. “Can you come the day after tomorrow? Meet me in the park at noon?”
“Of course I’ll come!” Nicholas replied at once, hope returning to his voice. “Everything will work out, I’m sure!”
Emily offered no further explanation. She simply needed to end the call.
“See you then,” she said shortly and hung up.
Rage coursed through her. Nicholas’s words kept repeatinghow he had “accidentally” dropped the bottle and then deliberately replaced the essential medication with vitamins. He had known every risk, every warning from years of medical advice, how critical it was never to miss a dose. Yet he had chosen to believe his mother, who had no medical training yet declared with certainty that “everything would be fine.”
The thought seared her. How could he treat her health and her life with such carelessness? Emily realised that with this attitude toward trust, respect and basic care, they had no future. She intended to make that plain the day after tomorrow.
On the appointed day Nicholas reached the park half an hour early. He had bought a bouquet of white rosesher favouritesand now paced nervously near the entrance, checking his watch. Hope still flickered: perhaps Emily had simply been upset, and once they talked he could explain he had meant well. He pictured her accepting the flowers, her expression softening, the two of them deciding what came next together.
When Emily arrived exactly at noon, her brother James at her side, her face was cold and unreadable. She did not even glance at the roses Nicholas held out. Instead she took a folded sheet from her bag and offered it to him.
“What is this? I don’t understand,” Nicholas said, thrown by her icy tone. He tried to meet her eyes, but Emily looked past him.
“It means there will be no child,” she said coldly. “You knew my diagnosis. You knew and still put my health in danger because your mother said it would be fine. I will never forgive this. Tomorrow I’ll collect my things. I won’t be alonemy brother is coming with me to prevent any trouble.”
She turned and walked away without waiting for a reply. Nicholas stepped after her at once.
“Emily, wait! Let’s talk!”
She did not look back, only quickened her pace. He started to run after her, but James moved into his path. Emily’s brother stood solidly, feet planted, and regarded Nicholas with no sympathy at all. His stance made it clear: “Don’t even try.”
Nicholas tried to step around, but James kept him back with an outstretched arm.
“You’re lying about everything!” Nicholas shouted, his voice cracking with anger and desperation. He felt his hopes collapsing, the future he had counted on slipping away. “I consulted doctors myself! They said modern medicine makes the risks minimal. You just don’t want a childthat’s why you’re inventing excuses!”
Emily turned slowly. Her face was pale, yet her expression stayed composed, almost distant. No tears showedonly the steady resolve she had built over the past days.
“You went to doctors without me? Talked about my health with strangers?” she said quietly, each word landing with weight. “Do you even know my exact diagnosis? Or did you simply walk in and say my fiancée might go blind?”
Nicholas flinched. He had not expected that question. He had been sure his reasons would make sense to her. He clenched his fists and tried to collect himself.
“I was thinking of our future! Of family!” His voice was strained yet sincere. “You said yourself you would consider adoption or a surrogate. Why not give our own child a chance?”
Emily breathed in deeply. Pain flashed across her facethe pain she had hidden behind determination.
“Because this is not a game, Nicholas!” Real emotion finally broke through. “This is my life, my body, my sight. Do you understand I could lose my vision? That I might be helpless, unable to work or care for myself? Did you think about what it would mean to live in permanent darkness?”
She paused to let the words sink in, but he had already begun to object.
“But the doctors said”
“What doctors?” she cut in sharply, bitterness clear. “The ones you visited in secret? Did you ask them for complication rates? Real cases? Do you know how many women with my condition lose their sight during pregnancy? Noyou only heard what you wanted to hear!”
Nicholas fell silent. Resentment still burned in his eyes, but something else had begun to appeara dawning sense that he might have made a grave error.
“You betrayed my trust,” Emily continued, quieter but no less resolute. “You knew how important those pills were to me. You knew I had spent years learning to live with this diagnosis, to accept it… And you wiped all of that out with one decision.”
James stepped forward. His hands itched to teach the man a lesson, yet he held back only because his sister had asked.
“I want nothing more to do with you!” Emily straightened, her voice turning cold and flat again. “I refuse to spend every day wondering what stunt you’ll pull next!”
Nicholas opened his mouth, but no words came. He searched her face for any sign of doubt, any chance to put things right. There was only coldness and contempt.
Emily turned and walked away. Nicholas wanted to call out but found he could not. He stood watching her figure fade into the evening shadows, James walking steadily beside her, guarding her peace.
When they were gone, Nicholas sank onto the nearest bench. The bouquet of white roses remained in his handsnever offered, never accepted.
He stared at the soft petals and understood for the first time that he had lost more than the child he had wanted. He had lost the woman he loved.
One thought kept repeating: “What if she was right all along?” But it was already far too late.”You two seem to have such a serious relationship now,” Margaret said insistently, almost demandingly, her eyes locked on the woman who might soon be her daughter-in-law. “So when are you planning the wedding?”
“It’s probably not the right time yet,” Emily replied with a forced smile, picking her words with care so as not to upset her future mother-in-law. “We’ve only been living together for a month. We ought to wait a little, get to know each other better day to day… Who knows, we might start bickering over silly things?”
Margaret lifted an eyebrow but refused to drop the matter. Truth be told, she liked Emily far more than Nicholas’s last girlfriend. That one had been impossible and arrogant. Thank goodness he had walked away from her.
“And how is Oliver getting on?” she asked, shifting the subject while her stare stayed sharp. “The boy’s practically grown, yet still…”
A warm feeling spread through Emily at the mention of Nicholas’s son. Memories of their early days together rose unbidden. Back then she had fretted constantly: how would the teenager react to a new woman in the house? Would he view her as a threat, someone trying to take his mother’s place?
“He’s wonderful,” Emily answered honestly, her smile softening into something genuine. “Of course I was anxious at first. I worried Oliver might resent me or at least keep his distance. But it all worked out beautifully. He turned out to be such an open, friendly lad.”
She paused, remembering the afternoon Oliver had burst in from school, tasted her pie with delight, and announced that proper home cooking had finally arrived.
“More than that,” Emily went on with a faint grin, “he was thrilled that someone who actually knows their way around the kitchen would be handling meals instead of his father. He even asks me to show him recipes sometimes.”
Nicholas, who had listened in silence until now, finally raised his head and gave a short nod in agreement. A brief smile crossed his face, as though he too was relieved that his son and his partner had settled into such an easy rhythm.
“Has he started asking for a little brother yet?” Margaret inquired with a pointed hint.
Nicholas winced at his mother’s question and shot her a quick, reproachful look. His eyes said plainly, “Why bring that up again?” He knew her habits too wellshe never shied away from the most sensitive subjects, oblivious to how uncomfortable they made everyone else.
“What’s the harm in asking?” Margaret replied without a trace of embarrassment, pressing on with cheerful, almost playful energy as if the topic were perfectly ordinary. “Oliver loves children; he’s always playing with his cousins. And you’re only thirty-fiveyou’ve plenty of time to raise a couple of your own.”
Emily felt a surge of discomfort. It was mortifying to discuss something so private and painful in front of a woman she hardly knew. She gripped her fingers tightly beneath the table, struggling to keep her expression steady.
“I’m afraid that’s not possible,” she said evenly, forcing her voice to stay level. “The doctors have made it clear I shouldn’t have children.”
Silence fell across the room. Margaret’s eyebrows rose as she absorbed the words. Her face shifted at oncethe polite mask vanished, replaced by a cold, distant look.
“Women’s troubles, is it?” she murmured with affected sympathy, a hint of condescension creeping into her tone. “But don’t give up hopemedicine moves forward. What once seemed impossible can be handled easily enough these days.”
Emily exhaled softly. She wanted to end the conversation, yet she knew silence would only make things worse. She glanced at Nicholas, hoping for support, but he merely shrugged, as if to say she was on her own.
“In my case it wouldn’t work,” she said quietly, staring ahead. She still could not understand why she had to bare her soul to this near-stranger. Yet staying quiet was not an option either; Margaret might assume something else entirely. “I have serious problems with my sight. The diagnosis came when I was eighteen. I’ve had years to accept it: I won’t be having children.”
Margaret went still, clearly trying to make sense of it. Her brows lifted, genuine confusion plain on her faceas though she had encountered something she could not grasp.
“What has sight got to do with children?” she asked, tilting her head. She saw no link at all and suspected it was merely a weak excuse. “I don’t follow.”
Emily drew a steady breath, searching for the right words. She had no wish to delve into medical details, yet she could not dodge the question.
“There is a ninety percent chance I will lose my sight,” she explained in a calm, measured voice. “That kind of strain on the body is strictly off-limits for me; the risk is far too high. It simply isn’t worth it, don’t you see? What good is a child I might never even be able to see?”
She stopped, giving Margaret time to take it in. Emily adjusted her glasses with nervous fingers. She needed the older woman to understand this was no passing fancy or concern about her figure. It was a genuine threat.
Emily could feel the disappointment thickening in the air. Margaret made no further effort at conversation, only casting occasional glances filled with open disapproval. It was obvious that this prospective daughter-in-law did not match the picture she had in mind. She had probably imagined a robust, energetic woman who would soon present her with grandchildren.
Emily felt no guilt and no urge to defend herself. She and Nicholas had talked the situation through long before, weighing every possibility. Consultations with doctors, evenings spent poring over information, honest conversations between themall of it had led to the same conclusion. The danger to her health was too great, and neither of them wanted to expose her to it. If necessary, they could look at adoption or a surrogate. These days it was not so difficult to arrange.
When the couple finally rose to leave, the tension eased a fraction. Margaret embraced her son at the door and nodded to Emily, though the gesture held no warmthonly polite form. As they pulled on their coats in the hallway, Emily caught Nicholas’s eye. His look carried a silent apology.
Outside, both drew a breath of relief. The evening air felt especially clean after the strained exchange. Emily reached for Nicholas’s hand and he closed his fingers around hers at once. Neither spoke of what had passed, yet both understood the meeting with his mother had not gone well. Still, it changed nothing about their choice to stay together, whatever others might expect or assume…
Three months later.
Emily kept noticing she did not feel herself. At first she paid it little mindperhaps she was simply worn out from work or had picked up a mild bug. But when the discomfort lingered for days, worry began to set in.
She felt a constant light weakness, waves of nausea in the mornings, and everyday smells suddenly turned unpleasant. Emily tried to manage aloneshe bought remedies at the pharmacy, drank extra water, went to bed earlier. No improvement followed. She caught herself losing focus at work and collapsing with exhaustion each evening even when she had done nothing strenuous.
One evening, on the phone with her mum, Emily found herself admitting how she felt. Her voice came out subdued; the strange lethargy still clung to her.
“Emily,” her mum asked after a brief pause, “are you quite certain you’re not pregnant?”
Emily was taken aback by the suggestion. She paused, turning the question over, then answered firmly.
“Absolutely. I haven’t missed a single pill. The doctor prescribed them after a full check-up, all exactly as instructed.”
Her mum did not argue, but her tone remained steady.
“Buy a test anyway, for your own peace of mind. This is far too important to ignore.”
Emily had been ready to insist it could not be pregnancy, yet something in her mum’s voice made her hesitate. A test was simple enough, and a little extra certainty could not hurt.
“All right, Mum. I’ll pop to the pharmacy now. Nicholas is at work, so I’ve got time,” Emily said and ended the call.
She grabbed her things, slipped on her jacket and stepped out. The pharmacy was only a few minutes’ walk in the next building. Emily moved faster than usual, as though trying to leave her thoughts behind. The same questions looped in her mind: “What if Mum is right? But how could it have happened? We were so careful…”
Inside the pharmacy she hesitated before the shelf of test kits. There were far more options than she had expecteddifferent brands, different styles. Emily looked helplessly at the pharmacist, then back at the display. At last she chose two mid-priced ones; it seemed foolish to cut corners on something like this. She paid at the counter and hurried home.
Back in the flat she paused in the hallway, trying to steady her nerves. Her hands shook slightly as she opened the packets. She followed the instructions and waited.
The first minutes stretched out painfully. Emily kept glancing at the clock, then at the tests. Two clear lines appeared on the first. She checked the secondidentical lines had formed there too.
“How can this be?” she burst out, a rush of confusion flooding through her. “This is impossible. I was so careful!”
The doorbell rang sharply. Emily started. She checked the timeit was not the hour for casual visitors. Then she realised it must be Oliver. The boy often forgot his keys when he rushed home from school.
Emily quickly dropped the tests into the bin, smoothed her hair and went to the door. Oliver stood there, slightly breathless, backpack slung over one shoulder.
“Forgot your keys again?” she said with a smile, stepping aside to let him in.
“Yeah,” he admitted, kicking off his trainers. “I was rushing and only realised once I was outside…”
Emily headed for the kitchen to feed the clearly hungry teenager. She had no idea that one of the tests had missed the bin and now lay exposed on the floor…
“Nicholas, I’m going to stay with my mum for a weekshe’s not well,” Emily said, avoiding her fiancé’s eyes. Lying to the man she loved felt wretched, yet she could not tell him the truth right now. She had no other choice. Risking her health was unthinkable; her mind was made up…
Nicholas looked up from his laptop at once, concern clear in his face.
“Do you need anything?” he asked quickly. “Shall I bring medicine? Or come with you? She shouldn’t be on her own…”
Emily managed a small, guilty smile. His eagerness to help touched her, but it only made the situation harder.
“Nothing’s needed yet, thank you,” she answered as steadily as she could. “I’ll call if anything changes.”
She turned away and continued packing a small bag: jumper, jeans, a few tops, underwear, toothbrush. Time was slipping awayless than an hour remained before the last bus to the nearby town, and she still had to reach the station. Her mum would be waiting, and that small certainty helped: someone who would understand without asking too many questions.
“Keep in touch, all right? Call straight away if you need me. I can come at any time.”
“Of course,” Emily nodded, leaning into him for a moment. “I’ll be back before you know it.”
The journey to the station passed in a blur. She checked her phone constantly for messages from Nicholas or her mum. Her thoughts were tangled, but she held tightly to the plan: arrive, deal with it, return. Only then, once everything was settled, would she speak to Nicholashonestly, without half-truths.
The next day Emily visited a private clinic. She had booked online, chosen the doctor from reviews, and arranged everything to avoid awkward questions. The appointment was brisk and routine: examination, blood tests, ultrasound. The doctor, a calm middle-aged woman, reviewed the results, checked the dates and asked about her history once more.
“Yes, you are pregnant,” she said at last. “Only five or six weeks.”
Emily nodded without speaking. A faint hope still lingered that it was all a mistake, that the tests and results had somehow been wrong. Now that hope faded.
“But I was taking the pills! How could this happen?” Her voice shook with confusion and barely contained alarm. She had followed every instruction exactly.
The doctor tilted her head, taking her time before answering. She folded the papers neatly first, then met Emily’s eyes.
“The medication might have been faulty,” she suggested in a professional tone. “Or other factors could have reduced its effectivenessantibiotics taken at the same time, missed doses, digestive issues. It happens, though not often.”
She waited a moment, watching Emily’s reaction, then continued gently.
“I take it you do not intend to continue the pregnancy?”
Emily closed her eyes briefly. She had asked herself the same question countless times in recent days. The doctors’ warnings from years ago echoed againthe risk that had never disappeared. She breathed deeply and answered with as much steadiness as she could muster.
“The chance of blindness is nine to one. Do you think I can accept that risk?”
The doctor nodded with understanding. She had already seen the notes and knew the danger was real. In these circumstances, Emily’s decision made sense.
“I understand,” she said softly. “It is a serious choice, and you are entitled to make it based on your health. I’ll write referrals for further tests. They will give us a clearer picture and help decide the best next steps.”
She turned to the computer, entered the details and printed several forms. She folded them and passed them across.
“Come back tomorrow for a follow-up. We’ll have the results by then and can discuss what comes next. Call the clinic if you have questions or feel unwellthey’ll put you through to me.”
Emily took the papers and smoothed them absently. Her thoughts were still racing, yet they felt slightly more organised. She thanked the doctor with a brief nod and stood. In the corridor she paused, leaning against the wall, and drew a long breath. Tomorrow would bring another dayand another stage in this difficult process…
“Emily!” Nicholas’s voice came brightly down the line, so full of life that Emily tensed at once. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Everything inside her tightened. She clutched the phone, fighting a sudden tremor.
“Tell you what?” she asked cautiously, keeping her voice even. The thought flashed through her: “Has he found out? How?”
“That you’re pregnant!” Nicholas said with unmistakable joy, as though he were already picturing their shared future.
Emily shut her eyes for a second, trying to steady herself.
“What makes you think that?” she replied, aiming for calm while her heart hammered.
“I found the test with two lines on the floor,” Nicholas explained, his tone free of doubt or worryonly pure excitement. “I’ve already booked you with a top specialist. Shall we go together? I want to be there for you.”
Emily drew a deep breath, choosing her words carefully. She had to dampen his enthusiasm without wounding him.
“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” she said gently but firmly. “It’s almost certainly a mistake. You know I’m on the pills. I followed every instruction, never missed a dose. This cannot be real.”
A pause stretched between them. Emily could almost feel Nicholas struggling to absorb her words.
“Well, about that…” he began hesitantly, embarrassment entering his voice. “Mum visited recently. She spotted your pills and started insisting your condition isn’t as serious as you think. She said plenty of women with far worse problems have children and everything turns out fine. She gave examples of friends, talked about modern ways of handling pregnancy… She was so convinced that… well, I let her persuade me.”
Nicholas stopped, waiting. Emily listened in silence, a storm of conflicting feelings rising. She understood he had simply wanted to believe things could be better. Yet it angered her that someone else was meddling in their lives, deciding for her.
“Are you saying she talked you into tampering with my pills?” she asked evenly, though anger simmered beneath.
“No, nothing like that!” Nicholas protested at once. “She just convinced me not to stick so rigidly to the prescriptions. That it might be worth taking a chance. I never imagined it could lead to this. I’m sorry.”
A cold shiver ran down Emily’s spine. Words caught in her throat and she forced out the question.
“What did you actually do?”
Nicholas looked down, gripping the edge of the table. He was clearly uncomfortable, yet he gathered himself and spoke.
“I… dropped your bottle by accident and the pills spilled. I thought maybe it was a sign, so I replaced them with vitamins. I wanted us to have a child. Mum assured me everything would be all right…”
Emily stood frozen, trying to take in what she had heard. She could not reconcile the man she loved with this action. She had explained so many times how vital the daily medication was, what even one missed dose could mean, what the consequences might be…
“You’re serious?” Her voice shook. She clenched her fists as indignation surged. “You did this on purpose? You listened to your mother and swapped the medicine?”
Nicholas shifted his weight, searching for a way out of the conversation.
“I thought it would be better for our family…” he answered quietly, eyes still lowered.
“For our family?” Emily could no longer hold back. Anger made her voice tremble, but she spoke clearly so he would grasp the gravity. “You didn’t even ask me! You knew my diagnosis, knew the risksand you went behind my back!”
She paused, willing her hands to stop shaking. Her temples throbbed and thoughts raced, yet one fact stood clear: she could not continue this talk now.
“I just wanted children…” Nicholas tried, his voice almost pleading. “I believed we could manage together.”
Emily breathed deeply, forcing herself to calm. She needed time to think.
“I can’t talk about this right now,” she said more steadily, though the emotions still burned. “Can you come the day after tomorrow? Meet me in the park at noon?”
“Of course I’ll come!” Nicholas replied at once, hope returning to his voice. “Everything will work out, I’m sure!”
Emily offered no further explanation. She simply needed to end the call.
“See you then,” she said shortly and hung up.
Rage coursed through her. Nicholas’s words kept repeatinghow he had “accidentally” dropped the bottle and then deliberately replaced the essential medication with vitamins. He had known every risk, every warning from years of medical advice, how critical it was never to miss a dose. Yet he had chosen to believe his mother, who had no medical training yet declared with certainty that “everything would be fine.”
The thought seared her. How could he treat her health and her life with such carelessness? Emily realised that with this attitude toward trust, respect and basic care, they had no future. She intended to make that plain the day after tomorrow.
On the appointed day Nicholas reached the park half an hour early. He had bought a bouquet of white rosesher favouritesand now paced nervously near the entrance, checking his watch. Hope still flickered: perhaps Emily had simply been upset, and once they talked he could explain he had meant well. He pictured her accepting the flowers, her expression softening, the two of them deciding what came next together.
When Emily arrived exactly at noon, her brother James at her side, her face was cold and unreadable. She did not even glance at the roses Nicholas held out. Instead she took a folded sheet from her bag and offered it to him.
“What is this? I don’t understand,” Nicholas said, thrown by her icy tone. He tried to meet her eyes, but Emily looked past him.
“It means there will be no child,” she said coldly. “You knew my diagnosis. You knew and still put my health in danger because your mother said it would be fine. I will never forgive this. Tomorrow I’ll collect my things. I won’t be alonemy brother is coming with me to prevent any trouble.”
She turned and walked away without waiting for a reply. Nicholas stepped after her at once.
“Emily, wait! Let’s talk!”
She did not look back, only quickened her pace. He started to run after her, but James moved into his path. Emily’s brother stood solidly, feet planted, and regarded Nicholas with no sympathy at all. His stance made it clear: “Don’t even try.”
Nicholas tried to step around, but James kept him back with an outstretched arm.
“You’re lying about everything!” Nicholas shouted, his voice cracking with anger and desperation. He felt his hopes collapsing, the future he had counted on slipping away. “I consulted doctors myself! They said modern medicine makes the risks minimal. You just don’t want a childthat’s why you’re inventing excuses!”
Emily turned slowly. Her face was pale, yet her expression stayed composed, almost distant. No tears showedonly the steady resolve she had built over the past days.
“You went to doctors without me? Talked about my health with strangers?” she said quietly, each word landing with weight. “Do you even know my exact diagnosis? Or did you simply walk in and say my fiancée might go blind?”
Nicholas flinched. He had not expected that question. He had been sure his reasons would make sense to her. He clenched his fists and tried to collect himself.
“I was thinking of our future! Of family!” His voice was strained yet sincere. “You said yourself you would consider adoption or a surrogate. Why not give our own child a chance?”
Emily breathed in deeply. Pain flashed across her facethe pain she had hidden behind determination.
“Because this is not a game, Nicholas!” Real emotion finally broke through. “This is my life, my body, my sight. Do you understand I could lose my vision? That I might be helpless, unable to work or care for myself? Did you think about what it would mean to live in permanent darkness?”
She paused to let the words sink in, but he had already begun to object.
“But the doctors said”
“What doctors?” she cut in sharply, bitterness clear. “The ones you visited in secret? Did you ask them for complication rates? Real cases? Do you know how many women with my condition lose their sight during pregnancy? Noyou only heard what you wanted to hear!”
Nicholas fell silent. Resentment still burned in his eyes, but something else had begun to appeara dawning sense that he might have made a grave error.
“You betrayed my trust,” Emily continued, quieter but no less resolute. “You knew how important those pills were to me. You knew I had spent years learning to live with this diagnosis, to accept it… And you wiped all of that out with one decision.”
James stepped forward. His hands itched to teach the man a lesson, yet he held back only because his sister had asked.
“I want nothing more to do with you!” Emily straightened, her voice turning cold and flat again. “I refuse to spend every day wondering what stunt you’ll pull next!”
Nicholas opened his mouth, but no words came. He searched her face for any sign of doubt, any chance to put things right. There was only coldness and contempt.
Emily turned and walked away. Nicholas wanted to call out but found he could not. He stood watching her figure fade into the evening shadows, James walking steadily beside her, guarding her peace.
When they were gone, Nicholas sank onto the nearest bench. The bouquet of white roses remained in his handsnever offered, never accepted.
He stared at the soft petals and understood for the first time that he had lost more than the child he had wanted. He had lost the woman he loved.
One thought kept repeating: “What if she was right all along?” But it was already far too late.
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