He only meant to adopt his ex-wife’s son. Yet fate had a twist in store—the boy was his own blood.
When Emily left Richard, it felt as if his heart had been torn from his chest. Six years together, four of them under the same roof. He had loved her fiercely, with every fibre of his being. But she chose another—a wealthier man who promised her a new-built house in London, a life free from counting pennies. Richard was left alone, shattered.
He buried himself in work, returning home only to feed his tabby, Whiskers. Friends faded away, hobbies neglected. Yet within a few years, he rose to manage a department, then started his own business. The pain dulled. Life crept back in—people, laughter, even moments of peace.
Then came the terrible news: Emily was dead. Her husband, that “wealthy” man, had beaten her. In a cruel twist, she fell during one of their rows—fatally. A small son remained, bound for an orphanage. Richard didn’t hesitate. He went to the boy.
There he sat, pressed against the wall, crying silently. Small. Broken. As if the world had ended for him. Richard couldn’t bear it. He visited daily—bringing toys, sweets, sitting quietly beside him. The boy warmed slowly but surely. And then Richard decided: he would adopt him. How could he abandon Emily’s child?
Within weeks, the boy was his. Within a year, Richard couldn’t imagine life without him. He was his son in spirit—bright, kind, full of mischief. They strolled through parks, holidayed by the seaside, rode the merry-go-rounds at fairs. Until, at a friend’s birthday, someone remarked:
“Blimey, you’re sure he’s not yours? The lad’s the spitting image of you.”
Richard chuckled.
“No. Emily would’ve said.”
“What if she didn’t know herself?”
The thought gnawed at him. A DNA test confirmed it—the boy was his own flesh and blood.
Joy, guilt, sorrow—Richard didn’t know what to feel. He’d had a son all this time. Had Emily known? Or had she kept it silent?
Now he understood why the boy had felt so familiar, why their bond had formed so quickly. He hadn’t just saved an orphan—he’d brought his own son home. The past couldn’t be undone, but here was a chance to make things right—for his boy, for Emily’s memory, for himself.
