Lizzy was tired. She couldn't remember the last time she got her eight hours sleep; she'd barely had eight hours sleep all month let along in one night. Now she pushed a buggy through the crowded streets of Cardiff with little Zack screaming his head off, demanding to be released from the push chair. She struggled through the doors of the cafe and slumped into one of the comfy seats. Zack wriggled out of his prison and started crawling and toddling, while Lizzy checked the menu and wished she could sleep. This was the cafe, the one Atti and her had been in that night. Where their passion had boiled over. Where their lust ruled their hearts. They’d left in a hurry and couldn’t even wait to get home. Despite the missing condom they’d allowed themselves to get carried away. Zack had been conceived round the back of this café, in a spot hidden from the street by the bins.
She looked at her little boy and smiled. It had been a tough two years. She knew she shouldn't admit this, but she wasn't totally sure it had been worth it, and that was the worst feeling in the world.
“Zack! Ych a fi,” as usual her boy was putting anything he found into his mouth. She grabbed his hand and removed the latest item. She looked at the tatty faded foil wrapper. The missing condom. Two years too late.