Emily was kicked out of her house with her twin babies and a promise to stay alive fifteen years ago. She has built a strong and meaningful life for herself until the man who broke her heart comes back to her door and asks for help… What are you going to do?
Everybody talks about the day everything changed. It wasn’t a day for me; it was a slow falling apart. The kind that starts with quiet and then pulls your breath out all at once.
I’m 33 years old and my name is Emily. I got married when I was 18 and very much in love. I’ve always thought about what kind of mom I’d be if we had started our lives before we were ready.
When we got married, David was 21 years old. He was trustworthy and sure of himself. When he walked into a room, everyone felt like they had known him for a long time. I laughed at him. In public, he held my hand tight. He talked about our future in a way that made it sound like something real that we could touch.
I thought I had found love at last. Things weren’t as easy as they seemed, though.
It wasn’t a lot of money, but we had enough. The small two-bedroom house we lived in belonged to his mother, but she lent it to us until we could pay our own.
It didn’t bother me. It felt like ours. Just in case, we put flowers in the front yard and painted the empty room a soft green. We didn’t plan to have a child. That’s how little we talked about it. I did want to be ready, though. I thought we would make something that would last.
I thought love was enough back then.
I didn’t know how fast the ground could move yet.
Things were easy at first. We talked about what we’d name our children while lying in bed late at night with our feet twisted. He liked the names Owen for boys and Toni for girls. I was leaning toward Cara or Lily. I never thought of a name for a boy.
Talks like that felt more like thoughts than plans because they were slow and soft. The time for kids wasn’t “if,” it was “later.”
I thought it was safe to say “someday.”
Things slowly started to fall apart after that.
David worked as a building manager. He was organized, clear, and always sure of himself, and he was good at it. But when two big projects were dropped right after each other, he changed in some way.
It was small at first. He became quiet and far away. Sometimes he forgot to kiss me goodbye in the morning or didn’t answer my texts all day. During the day, I stacked shelves and took money from customers at a drugstore.
Soon after, David got angry over things that didn’t bother him before, like whether I bought brand-name cereal or how long it took me to balance the budget.
One night, he muttered, “It’s just bad luck, Em,” and slammed a drawer shut harder than needed. “A job will come through soon. I just know it will.”
But as the weeks turned into months, that hope slowly broke down. He stopped looking for anything. He sat on the porch most days and stared at the dead piece of grass that we had once talked about turning into a herb garden.
He looked at me less and less. And when he did, I felt empty in a way I didn’t know how to describe.
I tried anyway. I worked extra hours at the store to save money without drawing attention to it. I kept making his favorite meals because I thought the smell of roasted garlic and chicken might bring him back to the old me. I made my own tiramisu. For breakfast, I made him fresh biscuits. I did… Everything.
I told myself that love would help me get through hard times. That we’d get through it if I could just hold on for a little while longer.
I thought everything would change when I found out I was pregnant. I cried as I sat on the floor of the bathroom and looked at the positive test.
Of course I was scared. However… full of hope. This was our reason. This was our start over. Things would be fine between David and me after the baby came home.
I told him that night after dinner.
“Are you sure?” His fork stopped about halfway to his mouth. “Emily, we can barely pay the bills. How are we supposed to raise a kid?”
“I know it’s not ideal, David,” I told him slowly. “But maybe this is the good thing we need. Maybe it’s time. Maybe… this is the blessing we’ve been asking for all along.”
He didn’t say anything else.
Then, during our first ultrasound, the doctor smiled and dropped another surprise in a soft voice.
She told them, “Congratulations, it’s twins!”
David’s face turned very pale. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He let go of his hands and held them at his sides as if they came from someone else. There was no happiness. Not interested.
Just… Worry.
When I looked at him, I tried to find something in his face, but he wouldn’t meet my eyes. I wished he would smile. It made me want my husband to laugh and grab me. He had to say that we would figure it out.
He didn’t say anything, though.
That’s when something inside me broke. He stopped being the man next to me who used to dance with me in the kitchen and leave notes on the fridge.
That David had been already starting to fade away, but now? He was gone.
From that day on, everything changed. David got cooler. People only answered with one word or nothing at all. I fell in love with his laugh, but it was gone, like a song whose tune I couldn’t remember.
He stopped wanting to know about the baby. He didn’t touch my stomach anymore. He gave up acting like he cared. He would wave it off every time I brought up names, doctors, or baby clothes.
He always asked, “Emily, can we not do this right now?”
I didn’t give up though. I didn’t give up.
I got more shifts and saved every penny I could. I made dinners in the crock pot and cut out coupons like they were prayers. Every night, I whispered to my belly because I thought a mother’s prayer might make things better.
“Don’t worry, my chickens. We’ll be fine.” “We have to be. Your mama is going to make sure everything is okay.”
Then, one night, he got home and loudly clinked his keys on the counter.
He said, “I got a job,” but he didn’t look at me.
I ran up to him and said, “David, that’s amazing, honey!” “See? Things are turning around.”
I tried to get in, but his arms wouldn’t open. He also didn’t smile. On the other hand, he just stood there and stared past me.
“I didn’t take it for us, Em,” he choked out. “I took it for me. I can’t do this. I can’t handle the babies, the responsibility — it’s not what I want. I thought I did, but… not like this. Not two at once. I thought I wanted to be married young. The idea seemed great at the time, but I don’t think I’m ready to be tied down forever.”
I went cold. I still had my hand on his arm.
“David… we’re having children. Our children — that we made together! This is real.”
“Emily, I never asked for real,” he told her in a flat voice.
“So you got married hoping for a fairy tale, but now the real world has shook you up?” I asked, almost gasping for air.
He didn’t answer.
He began coming home late and sleeping on the couch after that. I leaned in to hug my husband one night when I needed the security of his arm. As I did, I smelled a cheap, unfamiliar floral perfume.
I asked, “Whose is that?”
He laughed in a mean and distant way.
“Don’t start, Emily. You’ve got enough to worry about with your little science project growing in there.”
I remember holding on to the edge of the counter in the kitchen like it was the only thing that was supporting my weight. I was unable to speak. I was having a hard time breathing.
That night, I curled up in bed by myself and put both hands on my stomach.
“It’s okay, chickens,” I told the twins in a low voice. “Even if it’s just us, we’ll be okay.”
Ella and Grace, two beautiful girls with David’s dark hair and my green eyes, were born. They made me feel hopeful again. There were months when I lived on fumes because I thought that once he saw them and touched them, everything would finally make sense.
There was still a chance that the guy I married would come back to me.
He had Ella in his arms for about three minutes.
He mumbled, “Good job,” and then rubbed a dry kiss across my face. He then took out his phone and read through his messages.
There was no awe, no wonder, and no fatherly love at all.
He never even had Grace.
The first month went by quickly, with lots of diaper changes and 2 a.m. Getting fed. I didn’t know it was possible to be so tired that my body hurt. Not my body, but my chest hurt more. Where my heart used to be, there was a hole.
But I did it with my girls in my arms and my heart beating for them through every bottle, every midnight cry, and every load of laundry.
David didn’t really help. He always gave the same answer when I asked.
“I’m too tired, Em.”
“Can’t you just handle it?”
“Emily, just put them down to cry it out. I can’t handle your crying over theirs.”
“I can’t believe you allowed us to be in this situation, Emily.”
I was folding little onesies on the floor one afternoon when I heard the front door close. He walked in slowly and tried not to look at me.
He said, “Let’s talk.”
I looked up and asked, “What is it now?” I had a baby sock hanging from my hand.
It was over. That sigh was something he did every time he was about to give up on something.
He said, “I can’t do this.”
I asked as I sat down on the couch, “Can’t do what exactly?”
“This,” he said, pointing in the general direction of the living room. “The crying, the mess, and the pressure of it all. I’m not cut out for this kind of life, Em. I made a mistake.”
I told him, “There is no mistake.” “We have children. Your children.”
He told her, “I didn’t ask for two,” in a cold voice. “This wasn’t the plan.”
I asked in a whisper, “And where do you want us to go?”
He looked me in the eyes and said, “That’s not my problem anymore.”
The picture shows a man standing in a living room.
The picture shows a man standing in a living room.
I packed two bags with diapers, formula, and a lot of baby clothes the next morning. I wrapped Ella in a blanket, put Grace in her car seat, and left the house without looking back.
We stayed in a rusty, empty trailer on the edge of town. When it rained, the roof let water in. The heater worked when it felt like it. We were safe though because it was ours.
At day, I worked at a food store, and at night, I cleaned people’s homes. I paid Marissa, the teenage daughter of a neighbor, to watch the girls while I tried to get by on tips and honor.
I skipped food sometimes. The lights went out sometimes. But we were safe.
I soon had a plan. Bright Start Cleaning started out with just a cleaner, some flyers, and the same drive that David used to mistake for weakness.
It worked little by little.
People liked what I did. People told their friends, and word spread. Pretty soon, I was hiring single moms just like me who needed a second chance.
It was more than just a job for Bright Start Cleaning. No, it started as a way to stay alive and turned into a sisterhood. I kept my promise to myself and to my girls.
Every time my girls laughed, our trailer filled with sound. They became strong and kind adults who were always willing to help and believed in me even when I didn’t.
Eliana once told her mom, “You’ll make it work.” “You always do.”
“You’re the reason we have everything we need,” Grace said.
I bought us a house when they turned 12. The house was only two stories, had chipped paint, crooked shutters, and a patchy lawn that we turned into a garden. It wasn’t big or fancy.
We put down flowers and danced barefoot in the grass that first weekend. Grace said it smelled like happiness.
She was right, too.
We had a real office by the time my girls were 15. Picture frames around the room showed the women who had helped build it. It was clean, warm, and bright.
We would sit down at the break table every Friday with coffee and any baked goods we wanted to share. We would then tell stories like a family at Sunday lunch. We worked in homes, businesses, and I even got two commercial jobs. My name was finally being heard.
The past came into my office on a Tuesday morning.
The bell rang while I was looking over job forms for a part-time job. When I opened the office door, I forgot how to breathe for a second.
It was David.
He was too young to be his age because he had too much gray hair. He was no longer as sure of himself as he used to be. His shoulders were hunched in, and his clothes were clean but old. He had a hopeful look on his face and a folded resume in one hand.
“Emily,” was all he said.
“David,” I said, “my heart is beating fast against my ribs.” “What do you want?”
He looked around and stopped to look at the framed picture of our last staff lunch. Then he looked at the picture of Ella and Grace holding their school awards and smiling at the same time.
He spoke more slowly, and his voice was shaking.
He asked, “You built all this?”
“I did,” I said as I went back to my work. “While raising my daughters.”
He nodded and looked quickly between the plants in the window, the board with information about future events and shifts, and the sound of soft laughter from the women in the break room.
He took a deep breath.
He told her, “I lost everything.” “The business I tried to start went under. My girlfriend left me. My mom passed last year. I’ve been trying, but… no one wants to hire someone like me. I just need a chance.”
I did nothing but look at him. The guy who stood in front of a door once told me to go somewhere else. The man who left me with just a diaper bag and a promise to look after two babies and never make them feel like they were forgotten.
I saw for a moment the boyish charm that made me love him so much. And for a split second, I almost felt sorry for him.
Almost.
“David, you had your chance. Heck, you had every chance. And you walked away.”
David took a step forward and said, “I’m not asking for much, Emily!” “I’ll clean floors, I’ll take out trash, I’ll fix plumbing issues. I’ll do anything.”
“No,” I replied, shaking my head. “I’m not the woman you left behind. And I don’t owe you a way back in.”
He told her, “Please,” and looked down at his hands.
“You told me once that we weren’t your problem,” I stated. “But I turned that into purpose. And look around — this life, this place, my girls? We made it without you.”
As he stepped back outside, the door squeaked as he slowly turned around.
What a mess! When I got home that night, Ella and Grace were arguing over which movie to watch again for the hundredth time. As I ate my ice cream sandwich and laughed, I watched them talk about the pros and cons of the last two movies.
Yes, life had put me to the test. But I did very well on all of my tests. What about David? The girls don’t mind that they don’t know him.
