Sophie, it’s over between us! Henry said in a voice as cold as forgotten stone. I want a real family, children. You can’t give me that. I’ve filed for divorce. You have three days to gather your things. If you leave, give me a sign. I’ll stay at my mother’s until I prepare the apartment for the child and for the child’s mother. Yes, don’t be surprised, my new love is pregnant! Three days, Sophie!
In the swirling mist of the moment, Sophie stayed silent, feeling the ground slip away from under her feet as if it were a river of liquid glass flowing into oblivion. What could she reply to that? For five years they had tried to have a child, but three pregnancies had ended in tragedies. The doctors had assured her she was healthy, but each time something had not gone right. Sophie lived healthily, and during the pregnancies she was even more careful. The last time, she had fainted at work, and the ambulance had not arrived in time, leaving echoes of sirens that never came.
The door slammed shut behind Henry, and Sophie, exhausted, collapsed onto the sofa that seemed to breathe softly beneath her. She had no strength to pack anything. Where should she go? Before the marriage, she had lived with her aunt, but the aunt had died, and the apartment had been sold by her cousin, whose face floated in her memory like a distant cloud. Return to the village of Ashwood, to her grandmother’s house where the walls whispered old songs? Rent a place that might shift locations? And her job? The questions circled in her mind like a flock of birds trapped in a room with no windows, but time passed like sand through fingers that weren’t there.
The next morning, the door opened as if by its own will, and the mother-in-law, Margaret, entered the house, her figure casting shadows that moved independently. Not sleeping? That’s good, she said in a dry voice that crackled like dry leaves. I’ve come to make sure you don’t take anything that doesn’t belong to you. I don’t intend to take your son’s old socks, Sophie frowned, her expression twisting in the dim light. Do you want to count my things? What a cheeky one you are! And you were so gentle once. It was I who told Henry after the first pregnancy that you would never be able to give birth. Is that what you came to say? Then be quiet and watch. Why are you taking the set? the mother-in-law alarmed, her eyes widening like saucers in a painting. It’s mine, from my aunt, a memory of her. It will be empty here without it! That’s not my problem. But at least you will have a grandson. Take only what belongs to you! The laptop, the coffee maker and the microwave are gifts from colleagues. The car I bought before the wedding. Your son has his own. You have everything you need, but you can’t have children! It’s not your business. It seems that’s how God wanted it. Don’t you regret it? Maybe you did everything on purpose? You’re talking nonsense. I can’t even think about it without it hurting.
Sophie looked around her things had disappeared, floating away like forgotten dreams into the corners. The brush, the makeup, the slippers… She had forgotten something important. The mother-in-law’s presence disturbed her like a persistent itch in the back of the mind. She remembered the cat statuette, a memory from her grandmother. Inside was a secret place with earrings and a ring not valuable, but dear to the heart. Henry had considered it a trifle, perhaps tossed it into the void. Sophie opened the balcony, which revealed not the street but a horizon of swirling clouds. What are you looking for there? the mother-in-law’s voice echoed from far away. Come on, take your things and leave! She found the cat, everything was intact, the figurine purring softly in her hands as if alive in this moment. Now she could leave. Here are the keys, goodbye. I hope we won’t see each other again.
Sophie went to the office, walking through streets that looped back on themselves. She was on medical leave, but she asked for a vacation. We are with you, the boss said, his face shifting slightly with each word. But without you it’s hard. Will three weeks be enough? Sophie closed her eyes and felt how Paul’s hand squeezed hers gently, knowing that after so much pain, her new life was just beginning.Sophie, it’s over between us! Henry said in a voice as cold as forgotten stone. I want a real family, children. You can’t give me that. I’ve filed for divorce. You have three days to gather your things. If you leave, give me a sign. I’ll stay at my mother’s until I prepare the apartment for the child and for the child’s mother. Yes, don’t be surprised, my new love is pregnant! Three days, Sophie!
In the swirling mist of the moment, Sophie stayed silent, feeling the ground slip away from under her feet as if it were a river of liquid glass flowing into oblivion. What could she reply to that? For five years they had tried to have a child, but three pregnancies had ended in tragedies. The doctors had assured her she was healthy, but each time something had not gone right. Sophie lived healthily, and during the pregnancies she was even more careful. The last time, she had fainted at work, and the ambulance had not arrived in time, leaving echoes of sirens that never came.
The door slammed shut behind Henry, and Sophie, exhausted, collapsed onto the sofa that seemed to breathe softly beneath her. She had no strength to pack anything. Where should she go? Before the marriage, she had lived with her aunt, but the aunt had died, and the apartment had been sold by her cousin, whose face floated in her memory like a distant cloud. Return to the village of Ashwood, to her grandmother’s house where the walls whispered old songs? Rent a place that might shift locations? And her job? The questions circled in her mind like a flock of birds trapped in a room with no windows, but time passed like sand through fingers that weren’t there.
The next morning, the door opened as if by its own will, and the mother-in-law, Margaret, entered the house, her figure casting shadows that moved independently. Not sleeping? That’s good, she said in a dry voice that crackled like dry leaves. I’ve come to make sure you don’t take anything that doesn’t belong to you. I don’t intend to take your son’s old socks, Sophie frowned, her expression twisting in the dim light. Do you want to count my things? What a cheeky one you are! And you were so gentle once. It was I who told Henry after the first pregnancy that you would never be able to give birth. Is that what you came to say? Then be quiet and watch. Why are you taking the set? the mother-in-law alarmed, her eyes widening like saucers in a painting. It’s mine, from my aunt, a memory of her. It will be empty here without it! That’s not my problem. But at least you will have a grandson. Take only what belongs to you! The laptop, the coffee maker and the microwave are gifts from colleagues. The car I bought before the wedding. Your son has his own. You have everything you need, but you can’t have children! It’s not your business. It seems that’s how God wanted it. Don’t you regret it? Maybe you did everything on purpose? You’re talking nonsense. I can’t even think about it without it hurting.
Sophie looked around her things had disappeared, floating away like forgotten dreams into the corners. The brush, the makeup, the slippers… She had forgotten something important. The mother-in-law’s presence disturbed her like a persistent itch in the back of the mind. She remembered the cat statuette, a memory from her grandmother. Inside was a secret place with earrings and a ring not valuable, but dear to the heart. Henry had considered it a trifle, perhaps tossed it into the void. Sophie opened the balcony, which revealed not the street but a horizon of swirling clouds. What are you looking for there? the mother-in-law’s voice echoed from far away. Come on, take your things and leave! She found the cat, everything was intact, the figurine purring softly in her hands as if alive in this moment. Now she could leave. Here are the keys, goodbye. I hope we won’t see each other again.
Sophie went to the office, walking through streets that looped back on themselves. She was on medical leave, but she asked for a vacation. We are with you, the boss said, his face shifting slightly with each word. But without you it’s hard. Will three weeks be enough? Sophie closed her eyes and felt how Paul’s hand squeezed hers gently, knowing that after so much pain, her new life was just beginning.
