“She promised her daughter would stay with her gran… but everything changed.”
“Tom, why the long face?” Jake clapped him on the shoulder as they left the gym.
“My life’s falling apart, and I’m pretending it’s fine,” Tom muttered, not looking up.
“Let’s grab a coffee—you can tell me. Sounds serious.”
They slipped into a little café near the gym, ordering lattes and a slice of Victoria sponge. Jake launched into stories about picking out a pram with his wife for their newborn, laughing at the chaos. But Tom just nodded blankly.
“Mate, where’s your head? I’m here cracking jokes, and you look like you’re at a funeral,” Jake finally said.
Tom took a deep breath, clasping his hands. “You know Emily’s got a daughter, right? Lily. When we started dating, she was only two. All this time, she’s been living with Emily’s mum in Manchester. Emily sent money, visited, but swore her mum would raise her—even after we married and moved to London. ‘It’s just us two,’ she’d say. But six months ago, she brought Lily to live with us. Said it was easier—good school nearby. But it’s not easier for me. It’s doing my head in. I can’t live like this.”
Jake was quiet, then sighed. “Look, you knew she had a kid. Did you really think Lily would stay up North forever?”
“Yeah, but Emily promised! Now the kid’s always underfoot, needing attention. I love Emily, but I can’t fake like she’s mine.”
“Then either step up or walk away. No half measures. If you want Emily, you take Lily too. Or make room for someone who will.”
Walking home, Tom replayed the conversation. He remembered Emily asking him to drop Lily at ballet, hoping they’d bond. He’d just scowled, brushed her off. Today, he’d agreed to drive her—but stayed silent the whole way. Lily chattered about school, how she’d painted a rainbow, how excited she was for Christmas.
“Tom… do you not like me?” she’d suddenly asked.
“What makes you say that?”
“You never talk to me. Or smile. Do I annoy you? There’s a boy in my class I don’t like—we don’t talk. Maybe it’s like that with us…”
He hadn’t answered—they’d pulled up to the studio. But her words stuck in his chest. That night, as Emily tucked Lily in, he hovered in the doorway.
“Em… is Lily going back to your mum’s? Maybe after Christmas?”
Emily turned, baffled. “Are you joking? We’ve been married six years. You knew about Lily from day one. She’s my daughter. She belongs with us. Mum’s getting older—she can’t manage. And a kid needs her mum. What’s your problem?”
“We never agreed to this. I thought we’d have our own kids—not raise someone else’s. Sorry, but I don’t feel like she’s mine.”
Emily went pale. She stepped back sharply. “Someone else’s? Seriously? Six years together, plans, ‘I love yous’—and now my daughter’s in the way? I need to think. You’re sleeping on the sofa tonight.”
Tom lay there, thoughts racing. He knew Emily was right. But it hurt—like he’d been lied to. The rules had changed without him.
Near dawn, he dreamed of Lily laughing, running to him, hugging him as he spun her around. She whispered, “Daddy.” He woke in a cold sweat, unsettled. The dream had cut deeper than he’d expected.
He stood, staring at his reflection. The answer was simple: either he embraced Lily and became part of the family—or he left, before he broke it worse. The choice was his.
