“Thank you, darling,” I say. “You were quite right.”

I’ll let Stuart decide what is the best thing to say overall, because, quite frankly, I feel immense pride at Felix’s defense of me.

Stuart thanks me for dealing with it over a late dinner once the children are in bed.

“There’s something I’ve been meaning to bring up for a while...” I say.

I’ve had to put off the adoption conversation (surprisingly, neither child has dropped me in it by raising the subject in front of Stuart) because something else unsettling has cropped up. Finances. Mine. It’s my own fault that I’ve put myself in such an awkward position, but still...it places me at a disadvantage. I don’t like feeling reliant on him.

However, I have to live with it for the time being because it doesn’t take away from the obvious fact that I need more say. Once the children are adopted and I have much more control over everything without Nina’s unsaid presence hanging over us, we’re all in for a better chance at our collective new lives. The children must have lived with us both for at least six months before we can begin the adoption process—well, that’s one hurdle out of the way already.

“I’d like to adopt Felix and Emily,” I continue. “Formally, of course. I’ve been looking into it, and it’s relatively straightforward with your cooperation. They weren’t a part of our wedding, and I don’t want them to feel left out after our baby is born. This could be the best thing for us all, a total fresh start.”

Stuart looks at me. Not in a good way.

“Did you say something to the kids about it? Emily mentioned the word the other day.”

Trust Emily.

“Briefly. But I didn’t make any promises. They were asking if I was their new mummy now and...it slipped out as a potential option.”

Stuart looks...traumatized. It’s annoying. He recovers well, throws me a weak smile.

“That’s a lovely gesture, but it feels too soon after Nina. I’m not ready to take such a big step just yet. I’d need to think about it.”

“So, I’m good enough to look after them twenty-four-seven, take them to the dentist and doctor, throw birthday parties, get up in the night, change their bedding, help with homework, to name a few things, but not good enough to be a real mother, to make proper decisions about their welfare?”

“That’s not what I meant. It’s just that you’ve suddenly sprung this on me and—”

“You mean you’ve never thought about it?”

He doesn’t reply.

Rage and regret simmer.

I’ve never felt more alone.

Felix is invited to play in a friendly football match as a one-off. I agree without consulting Stuart.

“Nina wasn’t keen on him playing football,” he says. “Neither am I. Maybe when he’s a little older. But before we know it, he’ll be signed up for a team and our weekends will involve little else but football.”

“I doubt it,” I say. “He’s not a natural. This is just a bit of fun, a chance to kick about with his friends. I’ll take him. And,” I can’t help adding, “it wasn’t football she didn’t want him to play, it was rugby.”