Julia had long since stopped keeping track of where she was going or which part of the city she was in. She no longer knew how much time had passed since everything she lived for, everything that brought her joy, everything she considered hers, had turned into betrayal and pain. In that moment, her world was made up only of the agony of the betrayal she had endured.
Just that morning, everything had been entirely different, but now she was no longer a happy, fulfilled wife but a woman who had discovered she wasn’t her husband’s only one.
Julia and Andrew had met eight years ago as graduating students. Their relationship blossomed, and six months later, Julia joyfully said “Yes!” to Andrew’s proposal to start a family. Their “honeymoon” was a modest week-long trip to the coast, funded with money they had scraped together with effort. Then they stepped into the routine of people just beginning their adult lives.
At first, things were far from easy. They earned little, and their prospects seemed stagnant. But even though money was always tight, barely enough for the simplest life, they didn’t lose heart. They tried to live joyfully and meaningfully. After all, they had something greater than wealth—mutual love. And that love worked magic: a shared dinner of instant noodles and the cheapest tea felt like a gourmet feast.
Over time, prosperity came, and it came rather quickly. Andrew landed a good job and swiftly built an impressive career. The family began to have enough money for a comfortable life. Julia, however, struggled with her career: she started with a modest position and never advanced beyond it.
Two years ago, Andrew’s father fell seriously ill. The elderly man needed constant care, and Andrew suggested Julia take on the role of caregiver:
— Darling, I can handle providing for us. Honestly, I’d rather not hire an outside caregiver. I’ll feel better knowing a loved one is with Dad, and it’ll be much better for him too. And your job… come on, admit it, you hate it. It’s not worth the stress for the pennies they pay you.
— But what about you? How will you manage household chores? Who’ll cook for you, do the laundry? Who’ll clean our apartment? If I agree, I won’t be able to split myself between two homes.
— You don’t need to split yourself! I’m not a child. I’ll manage the household. I’ll visit you and Dad as often as I can. Of course, I’ll bring everything you need.
She agreed, as quitting her dead-end job truly relieved her of stress. The next day, she began her duties as a caregiver. Caring for an elderly, sick person became her primary task. Andrew ensured neither she nor his father lacked anything. The words “Thank you, dear,” which she heard daily from his father, warmed her heart.
When her father-in-law passed away, Julia decided to look for work again. A suitable job didn’t come up for a long time. At one point, Andrew suggested she become a homemaker. He said his work was going well, with promising prospects, and he wanted his wife to create a cozy home, take care of herself, and enjoy life. Julia accepted her new role as a homemaker.
One day, she needed items left at Andrew’s parents’ apartment from when she cared for his father. She headed to the apartment, which she assumed had been empty for nearly a year. Opening the door, she froze in shock. The apartment wasn’t empty. It had undergone minor renovations, with some furniture replaced. A boy, about two years old, approached and stared curiously at the woman who entered. Moments later, a pretty young woman, likely no older than 25, emerged from the kitchen.
— Who are you? What are you doing here? — In her shock, Julia forgot to greet or introduce herself.
— I’m Jane, and this — the woman gestured toward the boy — is Anthony, my son. We live here. And who are you?
— You live here? Is this your apartment?
— You could say that. It’s my husband’s, Andrew’s. Who are you?
— You won’t believe this, but Andrew is my husband too, and has been for quite a while. And this — Julia nodded toward the boy, now in his mother’s arms — I assume he’s Andrew’s son?
— Yes, he’s our son.
— I won’t do anything to harm you. Don’t be afraid. Please, call Andrew now and hand me the phone. I want to talk to him.
Jane picked up the phone from the table and dialed Andrew’s number.
— Yes, Janey? — he answered. — Is something wrong?
— Andrew, it’s me. Jane and Anthony are fine. But something’s happened to me. And it’s a big something!
— Okay, Julia, go home. I’ll be there soon, and we need to talk about a lot.
— Talk about what? About how, while I was here caring for your father, you started another relationship? I don’t want to talk about it! It’s all clear to me! Crystal clear! I don’t want to talk to you at all! About anything! There’s no reason to! It’s all obvious! You have a child here. And I… I…
Sobbing, Julia handed the phone back to a stunned Jane, slammed the door, and ran out of the apartment. She wandered the city, tears blinding her, unable to see where she was going. Her phone, buried in her bag, rang incessantly. But she didn’t glance at it, and it kept ringing until the battery died.
From the start of their marriage, Julia and Andrew had dreamed of having children. But Julia couldn’t conceive. They had planned to see specialists, but early on, they lacked time and money. Then, caring for Andrew’s father took precedence, pushing other matters aside. After her father-in-law’s death, they didn’t revisit the topic of children. They lived as life unfolded. Julia thought Andrew was simply leaving it to fate or would eventually suggest seeing a specialist. The thought that he might have solved the issue differently—without her—never crossed her mind.
And with that, all doubts about who was to blame for their childlessness vanished. Julia had hoped the issue wasn’t solely hers. But seeing Andrew’s son from another woman brought painful clarity. She now faced a harsh truth: she was alone, childless, with a bleak future. She hadn’t worked in a long time. Her family was gone as of today. And beyond that… nothing.
She didn’t notice when it started raining or when she wandered into an unfamiliar part of the city. It was a residential area, with many houses in disrepair, some clearly abandoned. She kept walking until overwhelming exhaustion overpowered the emotional turmoil. Drained, she sat on a peeling bench under an old tree.
It was getting dark, and she was soaked through. But neither bothered her. Julia closed her eyes, thinking her physical and emotional strength had left her, and slipped into a doze. A loud shout snapped her out of it:
— Greg! Where are you running off to? You’re such a handful! Stop, you little rascal!
Laughing and splashing through puddles barefoot, a boy ran down the street. Behind him, panting, a short, thin woman in her late sixties tried to keep up.
— Greg, stop! You little troublemaker! Stop, I say! You’ll catch a cold! Don’t jump in the puddles! — she shouted.
When she finally caught him, she pulled him to a spot free of puddles. Letting go, she groaned and clutched her lower back. Holding the boy’s hand, she slowly walked toward the bench. Only as she approached did she notice the young woman sitting there—soaked to the bone, makeup smeared from tears and rain, with an utterly empty, lost look in her eyes.
— What are you doing here? — the woman asked in the straightforward manner of a longtime resident of the city’s outskirts.
She even touched Julia’s arm, as she seemed not to hear the question and stared as if through her.
— Something happen to you? — the woman asked, answering herself: — Something did. It’s obvious. You don’t look homeless, dressed decently. What’s wrong? Someone hurt you?
— I just got lost, — Julia managed to reply. — Don’t worry. I’ll be on my way soon. I’m fine.
— Fine, huh? — the woman retorted. — Your “fine” is plain as day! And where will you go? This isn’t the place for a young lady like you to wander alone at this hour. Even if you avoid trouble—which is unlikely—where will you go? Public transport’s scarce here even during the day, and there’s none now. Don’t count on a taxi, I’ll tell you that upfront. So, I’m inviting you to stay at my place until morning, and I strongly suggest you agree. By the way, I’m Martha Stewart, and this is Gregory, my grandson.
She nodded toward the blond, wide-eyed boy standing beside her.
— Oh, what the heck, — Julia said. — I’ve got nowhere to go anyway.
She turned to the boy:
— Want me to carry you? It’s hard for your grandma. Will you come with me?
The boy happily accepted.
When they arrived at Martha’s house, Julia helped bathe the boy and then freshened up herself. An hour later, they sat in the kitchen, sipping tea. Julia felt an overwhelming need to pour her heart out, to share Ставьте в телеграмме @Grok3Bot share the story. She told Martha everything, despite knowing her for only a short time. Martha listened attentively.
— I’m telling you all this, — Julia lamented, — and I keep thinking, what did I do wrong? Where did I go wrong? I loved him, tried to surround him with care, create a cozy home. When his father needed care, I quit my job without hesitation. Could it be because I can’t have children? I so wanted a little troublemaker like your Greg.
Meanwhile, the boy climbed onto Julia’s lap and dozed off.
— It’s strange how quickly he warmed up to me, — Julia said.
— He’s starved for a mother’s affection, — Martha replied. — My son, Nicholas, had a situation a bit like yours. He married for love. Greg was born. To provide for them, Nick took a job working long shifts away. The pay was good, but he was rarely home. His wife decided she didn’t want to waste her youth. She found someone else… then another. In short, she made a different choice, to put it politely.
— But she still sees her son, right? He’s her own flesh and blood.
— She died. Car accident with her latest… They say she wanted to build a life with him. She even sold their apartment through some shady realtors while Nick was away to buy a place for herself and her lover. But I heard they squandered most of the money. So, I’ve been looking after Greg. Nick’s finishing his contract and says he’ll look for options here. But until then, I’m holding on. My health’s failing, worse every day. Oh! The little guy’s asleep on your lap!
Julia carefully carried the boy to his bed. Then she helped Martha clear the table. To her surprise, she felt significantly lighter than she had hours ago. Despite the fresh sting of Andrew’s betrayal, a decision formed almost on its own.
— Can I stay with you for a while? — she asked Martha. — I won’t be a burden. I can handle chores, and I love kids. I’ll even find a small job to contribute.
— I don’t mind, — Martha replied. — Maybe God sent you when He saw how much I was struggling. Don’t worry about work; Nick sends enough money. But with chores… yes, I could use a helper, no doubt.
Three months passed. Julia, Martha, and Gregory became like a family. They bonded almost immediately, and everything flowed smoothly, as if they’d lived together for years. Julia rarely ventured beyond the neighborhood; the local stores and small market met their modest needs. She charged her phone, which had died that fateful day, only to send Andrew a message: “Forget about me. We’re done. Don’t look for me.” Then she turned it off.
One day, Martha suddenly paled, groaned, clutched her chest, and sank onto a chair. Julia helped her to the couch and called an ambulance.
Martha’s chronic health issues had flared up, requiring hospitalization. Alongside her usual tasks, Julia began visiting the hospital. Thankfully, Martha was improving, partly because she was spared stress, knowing Julia was caring for the house and Gregory.
One evening, Julia was reading Gregory his usual bedtime story. As it neared the end, the boy leapt from bed and ran to the door:
— Daddy! Daddy’s here!
In the doorway stood a tall man with refined features. He looked surprised, glancing between the boy and Julia. He scooped Gregory up, kissed him, and nodded toward Julia:
— And who’s this?
— Who? — Gregory said, puzzled. — Mommy, of course! Mommy’s back!
Two years later, Julia bore Nicholas’s last name. They were a happy, close-knit family, living in a large house Nicholas had bought, where they brought Martha to live with them. Martha often recalled the day she met Julia as one of the happiest of her life.
For Gregory, Julia became “Mommy” instantly, and she returned his trust with the maternal love she had longed to give for so many years.
She saw Andrew only once more, by chance. He approached her.
— Hey. How’s it going?
— Not bad. You look a bit lost. Trouble in the family, if it’s not a secret?
— No family anymore. We divorced three months ago. Turns out the kid wasn’t mine. She was pregnant by her ex when we met. They had a big fight, broke up, and then we got together. She said the baby was mine. I never doubted it, raised him as my own. Then she reconnected with her ex, and, well, feelings reignited. They got back together, and I learned the ugly truth. So, you could say justice was served. Since we’ve run into each other, maybe something could reignite between us? I love you. I do.
— It won’t. As for love, believe me, I’m doing just fine without you.
— But I’m ready to accept that you’ll never have kids. That’s important.
— You’re wrong! It’s not important at all! And you’re wrong about me being childless. Very wrong.
— What do you mean?
— That’s none of your business! I’m leaving. Good luck with your love life!
Julia walked toward a car that had just pulled up. Nicholas stepped out, hugged, and kissed her. He asked:
— Who were you talking to?
— An old college acquaintance. We exchanged a few words about life. But I need to talk to you about something serious.
— Of course. I’m all ears.
— I’m pregnant!!!
— Hooray!!! I love you so much!!!
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