Nothing to smile about

As the doctors pieced me back together, the thug who put me in hospital was grinning for the camera

- KARA O'NEILL, FIONA LOCKE

Sipping my drink, I turned to face the man who’d just tapped me on the shoulder.

‘Craig?’ I gasped. Silly question. I’d recognise that grin anywhere.

It was late 2014, and I was at the pub with friends – didn’t expect to be bumping into my ex.

Craig and I had gone out together when I was 16 and he was 21. He was a charmer, even if he was missing a front tooth!

But I soon realised Craig also had a nasty temper.

‘I never liked him,’ my sister Emma, then 14, said to me when Craig and I split three years later.

Now, here he was again.

As we chatted over beers at the bar, a familiar spark was reignited.

‘It’s always been you,’ he told me, giving me that big smile. And he made me melt all over again.

After that, I saw Craig most days, and it wasn’t long before I fell pregnant.

We hadn’t planned it, but Craig was delighted.

‘We’ll be a proper family!’ he said to me.

Those first weeks were so exciting as we chatted about what we’d call our baby, whether we’d have a boy or a girl.

Then, in May 2015, at my 12-week scan, the sonographer couldn’t find a heartbeat.

‘I’m sorry to say you’ve miscarried,’ a doctor confirmed.

I turned to Craig, a lump in my throat.

But all I saw was his back as he stormed out of the room.

He’s upset, too, I thought, walking home alone.

But Craig didn’t answer my calls or texts and I didn’t see him for days.

Grieving for our baby, I’d never felt so lonely.