“Was your wife truly what you thought she was?”
“Edward, I didnt want to tell you this on your wedding day But do you even know your new wife has a daughter?” My colleagues words pinned me to my seat.
“What do you mean?” I refused to believe it.
“My wife saw your Rebecca at the wedding and whispered to me, I wonder if the groom knows his bride has a child in foster care? Imagine that, Edward! I nearly choked on my sandwich. My wife, Margaretshes a midwiferecognised Rebecca by a birthmark on her neck. She said Rebecca signed away her rights to the newborn. Named her Emily, gave her own surnameWilkinson, I think. This was about five years ago.” He watched me, waiting for my reaction.
I sat frozen behind the wheel. So that was it.
I had to find out for myself. I didnt want to believe gossip, but Rebecca wasnt some naive eighteen-year-oldshe was thirty-two when we met. Of course she had a past. But how could anyone abandon their child? How could she live with that?
Using my connections, I tracked down the foster home where Emily Wilkinson lived. The director introduced me to a bright-eyed little girl.
“Meet Emily Wilkinson,” the director said warmly. “How old are you, sweetheart?”
The girl had a noticeable squint, and my heart ached for her. She was already part of memy beloveds child! My gran used to say, “A child, though flawed, is still a wonder to their parents.”
Emily stepped closer. “Im four. Are you my dad?”
I hesitated. What do you say to a child who sees a father in every man?
“Emily, lets talk. Would you like to have a mum and dad?” A silly question, but I already longed to hug her and take her home.
“Yes! Will you take me?” She stared up at me, wise beyond her years.
“I will, but not just yet. Can you wait, little rabbit?” I fought back tears.
“Ill wait. Promise you wont lie?”
“I promise.” I kissed her cheek.
At home, I told Rebecca everything.
“Rebecca, I dont care about your past, but we need to bring Emily home. Ill adopt her.”
“Did you even ask me? Do I want that girl? And shes cross-eyed!” Rebeccas voice rose.
“Shes your daughter! Well fix her eyesshes perfect. Youll love her.” Her stance shocked me.
In the end, I practically forced Rebecca into agreeing.
It took a year before we brought Emily home. I visited her often, and we grew close. Rebecca dragged her feet, even tried stopping the adoption midway. I convinced her to see it through.
The day Emily stepped into our flat, everything amazed herordinary things we took for granted. Soon, specialists corrected her vision without surgery. She blossomed, looking more like Rebecca every day. I was happymy family was two beautiful women.
For months after leaving care, Emily clung to a biscuit tin, afraid of hunger. Rebecca was annoyed; I was heartbroken.
I tried holding us together, but Rebecca never bonded with Emily. Arguments grewall because of her.
“Why did you bring this wild thing into our home? Shell never be normal!”
I loved Rebecca deeplyI couldnt imagine life without her. But my mum once warned, “Son, its your choice, but we saw Rebecca with another man. Shes deceitful. Shell break your heart.”
Love blinds you. Rebecca was my idealuntil Emily showed me the truth. Her neglect of our daughter opened my eyes.
A friend joked, “Measure a woman by her inchesitll cool your heart.” Ridiculous, but I tried it. I measured Rebeccas waist, hips, bust.
Nothing changed. I still loved her.
Then Emily fell illfeverish, clinging to her doll, Molly. Rebecca snapped, snatched the doll, and threw it out the window.
“Mummy, thats Molly! Shell freeze!” Emily sobbed.
I raced down eight flights, rescued the doll from a snow-covered tree. Its plastic face glistened with melting flakes like tears. Climbing back, I felt something break inside me.
Rebecca sat reading, indifferent. That moment, my love for her dieddried up, vanished. She was beautiful but empty, like a sweet wrapper.
We divorced. Emily stayed with me; Rebecca didnt fight it.
Later, I saw hernewly married to some businessman.
“Pity her husband,” Mum said. “A woman like that shouldnt be a mother.”
Emily grieved at first, longing for even a touch from Rebecca. But my new wife, Claire, melted her heart with patience and love. It was unfathomablehow a mother could reject her child twice.
Now, Claire loves Emily and our son Sam endlessly. And Ive learned: love isnt just passionits kindness, even when its hard.
