**Awkward, to Say the Least**
– *You’re his wife?*
– *In the most literal sense. At least legally—I could show you the stamp in my passport if you’d like. Didn’t bring the certificate, sorry,* the woman said, resting a hand on her rounded belly.
***
– *Sweetheart, I’m off on a work trip next week. Signal’s spotty out there, so don’t lose touch,* said John Archer.
– *Don’t worry about the cat. I’ll stop by, feed him, clean the litter,* muttered Emily, eyes still glued to her phone.
– *About the cat…* John hesitated. *Look, love, you don’t need to trek all the way here after work just for him. Mrs. Whittaker down the hall—she’s offered to pop in now and then for Oliver.*
– *You’re acting odd, Dad,* Emily chuckled. *Your neighbour must be a proper saint. Feeds the cat, grabs milk on her way, even nips to the chemist for medicine after work. Lucky you.*
– *Right. Lucky…*
A pang of guilt twisted inside John. His brow furrowed as he fought to keep his composure. *She doesn’t suspect a thing. Just teasing me,* he told himself.
…John and Emily’s mum had divorced seven years ago. It had been amicable—no shouting, no blame. Just a quiet agreement that they’d grown apart. Emily had taken it well, only insisting they still celebrate family occasions together, and so it had been.
– *So I’m the neighbour now?* Olivia arched a brow, smirking.
– *Couldn’t think of anything better…* John looked away, sheepish.
– *Right, calling me your wife is far too complicated.*
– *Liv, don’t take it to heart.*
– *I’m a grown woman, John. But how long are we going to keep this charade up?*
– *I don’t know, I just— Liv, what if she doesn’t understand? When she was little, she used to panic, thinking one of us would leave. Kept asking if we’d abandon her. Feels like I’m betraying her now.*
– *Look, I’m not meddling in your father-daughter bond. But in two months, you’ll have two daughters, and you’ll need to step up, be the man here. I’m not forcing your hand, God forbid—but how do you hide a newborn?*
– *We’ll sort it!* John said, though he had no idea how.
John had met Olivia soon after the divorce. One look, and he’d known—she was *it*. But admitting it to his family? Impossible. He feared Emily would pull away, his ex-wife would resent him, and every meeting with Emily would turn into a battleground.
First, he’d worried Olivia was nearly a decade younger. Then, that they’d married in secret. And now—Olivia was pregnant. The due date loomed, and with it, the moment truth would burst like an abscess. *I’ll find the right time to tell her,* he told himself.
John had gone to great lengths to keep Emily in the dark. He avoided her visits, met her in neutral spots, and Emily, like any sharp young woman, had teased him endlessly about his *mysterious neighbour*.
That morning, when John returned from his trip, Emily decided to drop by unannounced. But no one answered the door. His phone rang out, again and again. Frowning, she stepped outside. No mistake—Dad had texted, *Landed at Heathrow. Be home in a few. Will call.* But he wasn’t home. *He’s an adult. Probably running errands,* she reasoned.
– *Mr. Archer was taken to hospital,* an unfamiliar voice cut through her thoughts.
– *What? When? Where?* Emily whirled around.
An elderly woman leaned out from a ground-floor window. She explained she’d seen John return with his suitcase—then, barely half an hour later, an ambulance had arrived.
– *Heard them say they were taking him to cardiology. Looked steady on his feet, so likely not A&E. Thank heavens for that,* the neighbour mused. *Recognised you straight off—you’re his girl. Always waiting for your taxi out front, buzzing his flat.*
– *How long ago did they leave?*
– *Must be an hour now.*
Emily barely heard the last words. Trembling, she wondered where to find him, what state he was in. *Cardiology? But he’s never had heart trouble!*
– *Call the hospital. They might tell you where he is,* the neighbour suggested.
Emily dialled with shaking hands. Minutes later, the operator confirmed where John Archer had been admitted. She hailed a taxi, fighting panic all the way. Dad’s phone remained off.
– *Please—they said my father was brought here!* Emily’s voice cracked.
– *If he’s been processed, I’ll check. How long ago?* The receptionist spoke with infuriating calm.
– *I don’t know—maybe an hour? The neighbour saw—please help.*
– *Wait in the hall. I’ll confirm.*
Emily paced until the woman returned. *Cardiology ward. No visitors—quarantine in effect. If he’s stable, he might step into the corridor. Check visiting hours at the main entrance.*
Emily dashed outside, scanning for signs. *If he can walk, it can’t be bad, right?*
Lost in thought, she barely noticed reaching the ward. A nurse frowned at her. *Visiting hours are—*
– *They just admitted him! He’s not answering! Does he have clothes, food, meds?! Let me through!* Emily’s voice rose to a shout.
A hand touched her shoulder. She spun—expecting security—but found a heavily pregnant woman, only a few years older.
– *Emily, hello,* Olivia said gently.
– *Do I know you?*
– *Not quite. I know you—very well. But to you, I’m just the ‘neighbour’ who feeds the cat and fetches prescriptions.* She forced a smile.
– *I don’t understand. Are you here for Dad? Did he call you? What’s going on?*
– *I came alone. The hospital rang me.*
– *Why would—?*
– *Because I’m… his wife.*
– *You’re his what?*
– *In every sense. Legally, at least. I’ve got the passport stamp to prove it. Left the certificate at home, sorry,* Olivia said, shielding her bump instinctively. *Let’s step outside. I’ll explain. John’s fine—I’ve brought his things. Come on.*
She led Emily out, choosing her words carefully.
– *How long? Why didn’t he tell me? And—especially about—* Emily’s gaze dropped to Olivia’s belly.
– *This isn’t how I wanted to meet you. But you know what they say: Want to make God laugh? Tell Him your plans. Your dad kept saying he’d ‘find the right moment’. Well, life had other ideas.*
– *But why hide it? It’s mad.*
– *Not mad. He was terrified you’d shut him out,* Olivia said firmly.
– *That’s ridiculous! I’ve been worried sick about him being lonely—and now this? A wife *and* a baby?*
– *So… you’re not upset?*
– *Are you joking? I’m thrilled. Bloody childish of him, honestly. Explains the heart trouble—living a double life! When can I see him?*
– *Emily—can I call you that?* Olivia waited for a nod. *The ward’s quarantined. I barely got in. If they allow it, come back tomorrow. No food—he’s on a diet. I’ve brought his clothes. They’re running tests—possible minor heart attack. Stable, though. Resting.*
She studied Emily’s lost expression—the same hollow look of anyone with a loved one behind hospital doors.
– *Look, since we’ve met like this—why not come home? We can talk properly. Plot John’s punishment,* she joked. *Health-friendly, of course.*
– *Honestly, it’s a bit awkward…*
– *It’ll be more awkward when I’m back from the maternity ward and the baby doesn’t know her own family! Come on.* Olivia looped an arm through hers. *I’ve a feeling we’ll get on famously.*
