All he wanted was to adopt his ex-wife’s son. Turned out—it was his own child…
When Emily left Simon, it felt like his heart had been ripped from his chest. Six years together, four of them under the same roof. He’d loved her as deeply as a man could—completely, painfully. But she chose someone else. Richer. Promised her a new-build home, a life without penny-pinching, and freedom from scraping by. Simon was left broken, alone.
He threw himself into work. Barely came home except to feed the cat. Friends drifted away, hobbies faded. But within a couple of years, he’d climbed to department head, then started his own business. Only then did the pain begin to ease. He had time for life again.
Then, one day, he heard terrible news: Emily was dead. Her husband—that “wealthy” man—had been beating her, and during one fight, she fell. Wrong place, wrong time. Left behind was a little boy, set to go into care. Simon didn’t hesitate—he went to him.
The boy sat curled against the wall, crying. Small, helpless, shattered. As if the world inside him had died. Simon couldn’t bear it. He visited every day—brought toys, sweets, sat quietly beside him. Slowly, the boy warmed to him. So Simon made a decision: he’d adopt him. He still loved Emily, in a way. How could he abandon her son?
Within weeks, the boy moved in. A year later, Simon couldn’t imagine life without him. He was his son in spirit—bright, kind, full of laughter. They went on walks, day trips, fairground rides. Then, at a mate’s birthday, someone said,
“Blimey, mate—you sure he’s not yours? Spitting image of you.”
Simon scoffed.
“No, Emily would’ve said.”
“What if she didn’t even know?”
The thought gnawed at him. He got a DNA test. The result—positive. The boy was his. His own flesh and blood.
Simon didn’t know whether to feel joy, grief, or guilt. He’d had no idea he had a child. And Emily… maybe she hadn’t either. Or maybe she’d kept quiet.
Now he understood why the boy had felt so familiar from the start. Why he’d clung to him. He hadn’t just saved someone else’s child from loneliness—he’d brought his own son home. The past couldn’t be undone, but now he had a chance to make things right. For his boy, for Emily’s memory, for himself.
