“A Secret Revealed on My Wedding Day: My Wife Has a Daughter!”
“James, I didnt want to tell you this on your wedding day but, did you know your new wife has a daughter?” My colleagues words hit me like a ton of bricks as I sat gripping the steering wheel.
“What are you on about?” I refused to believe it.
“My wife, Emma, saw your Emily at the wedding and whispered to me, Its odddoes the groom know his bride has a child growing up in an orphanage?”
James, mate, I nearly choked on my sandwich. Emma swears she personally treated the little girl when Emily gave her up. Shes a midwife, remembers Emily because of that birthmark on her neck. Said Emily named the girl Lily and gave her the surname Carter. Mustve been five years ago.” He watched my reaction like it was prime telly.
I froze behind the wheel. Bloody hell.
I had to see for myself. Couldnt wrap my head around it. Knew Emily wasnt some eighteen-year-oldshe was thirty-two when we married. Shed had a life before me, sure. But abandoning her own kid? How dyou live with that?
Thanks to my job, I tracked down the orphanage fast.
The manager introduced me to a bright-eyed little girl. “This is our Lily Carter. Go on, love, tell the gentleman how old you are.”
Couldnt miss her crossed eyes. My heart broke right then. Felt this instant bondshe was my wifes daughter, after all. Gran always said, “A childs a treasure, no matter what.”
Lily stepped up, brave as anything. “Im four. Are you my daddy?”
God, what do you say to that?
“Lily, lets chat. Would you like a mum and dad?” Daft question, really. Already wanted to scoop her up and take her home.
“Yes! Will you take me?” Her big eyes searched mine.
“Ill come back for you, promise. Will you wait, sweetheart?”
“Ill wait. You wont lie?”
“Never.” I kissed her cheek.
Back home, I laid it all out for Emily.
“Love, whatever happened before us, weve got to take Lily. Ill adopt her.”
“And youre asking me? Dyou think I want some cross-eyed brat?” Her voice turned sharp.
“Shes your flesh and blood! Well fix her eyes. Shes lovelyyoull adore her.” I couldnt believe her reaction.
Convincing Emily took ages.
A full year passed before we brought Lily home. I visited her weeklywed grown close. Emily? She dragged her feet, even tried backing out halfway. I pushed through.
The day Lily walked into our flat, every little thinga light switch, a kettlemade her gasp with wonder. Took a year and a half to fix her eyes. Thank God no surgery.
Lily became the spitting image of Emily. My heart swelledtwo beauties lighting up my life.
For months, Lily hoarded biscuits, even slept with them. Couldnt pry them loose. That hunger fear stuck. Emily scowled; I just ached.
I fought to bond us, but Emily never loved her. Only herself.
Rows over Lily became our norm.
“Whyd you bring this wild thing home? Shell never be normal!” Emily shrieked.
I loved her deeply. Couldnt picture life without her. But Mum warned me: “Son, your choicebut I saw Emily with another bloke. Shes slippery, that one. Shell play you.”
Loves blinding, isnt it? Then Lily came, and cracks showed. Emilys coldness gutted me.
A mate once joked, “Want to fall out of love? Measure her with a tailors tape.”
“Pull the other one,” Id laughed.
“Serious! Chest, waist, hips. Works every time.”
For a lark, I tried it.
“Emily, let me measure you.”
“Ooh, new dress?” she purred.
“Yep.” I noted every curve.
Later, I told my mate: “Still mad for her.” We howled.
Then Lily fell illfever, sniffles, trailing Emily with her doll, Rosie. At least shed swapped biscuits for toys.
Normally, shed dress Rosie endlessly. That day, the doll lay nakedLily too weak. Emily snapped:
“Stop whinging! Go to bed!”
Lily clutched Rosie, weeping. ThenEmily snatched it, flung open the window, and hurled it out.
“Mum, thats Rosie! Shell freeze! Can I get her?” Lily sobbed, bolting for the door.
I tore down eight flights (bloody lift broken). Rosie dangled from a branch, upside-down. I brushed off snowher rubber face looked tear-streaked. Trudging back, I aged ten years.
No excuse for that. In Lilys room, shed cried herself to sleep, face pressed to the pillow. I tucked her in, Rosie beside her.
Emily sat coolly flipping a magazine.
And just like thatmy love vanished. Poof. Realised she was all wrapping, no gift.
She knew it too.
We divorced. Lily stayed with me; Emily didnt fight it.
Ran into her later. She sneered, “James, you were just a pit stop.”
“Emilyyour eyes are emeralds, but your souls coal-black,” I said, no sting left.
She married some wealthy bloke soon after.
“Poor sod. That womans no mother,” Mum muttered.
Lily mourned her at first, reaching for a mum whod rejected her twice. Unthinkable.
Then I met Sarah. Warm, patientshe melted Lilys heart, loved her and our son, Oliver, like her own. And that? That was everything.
