Long ago, before her wedding day, Emily betrayed her husband just once. He had called her fat and said shed never fit into her bridal gown. Wounded, she went with friends to a nightclub in London, drank too much, and woke beside a handsome blue-eyed stranger in an unfamiliar flat. The shame was unbearable. She told James nothing, forgave his cruel words, and even started a diet. She quit drinkingeasier once she discovered she was pregnant.
Their daughter was born right on time, a beautiful blue-eyed girl, and James adored her. For five years, Emily told herself all was wellher daughter had blue eyes because her grandfather did. And if her hair was curly, so what? She tried hard to forget the curly-haired man whose name she couldnt recall. But deep in her mothers heart, she knew the girl wasnt Jamess. Maybe thats why she tolerated his night-time escapades, his constant business trips, his endless remarks about her looks and cooking. To the girl, family mattered: she loved her father, and what man didnt stray?
“Hold on, where else would you go?” her mother scolded. “Your grandmothers bedridden, your brothers moved his fiancée intheres no room! I warned you not to put the house in your mother-in-laws name!”
Emily endured. But it was no useone day, James left her. Hed found someone else. He wept, swearing hed always be Sophies father, but he couldnt fight his feelings. His mother, who seemed to dote on the girl, said after the divorce:
“Do a paternity test. You might be paying child support for nothing!”
Emily frozeshe thought she was the only one who doubted. She wasnt.
“Are you mad?” James snapped. “Sophies mineany fool could see that.”
Perhaps his mother was right. A year after the divorce, when Emily landed in hospital with appendicitis, her doubts vanished the moment she saw those familiar blue eyes above a surgical mask.
“Pardon me, have we met?” the surgeon asked.
Emily shook her head frantically, praying he wouldnt remember. But he did. The next day, during his rounds, he teased, “I hope you wont run off as quickly as last time.”
She flushed scarlet and vowed to leave as soon as possible. Yet, by the weeks end, Thomas had charmed her into staying.
She never mentioned Sophie might be his. Only that she had a daughter. But Thomas understood the first time he saw her. Nervous, he bought a doll, asking Emily endless questions about how to behave.
“Listen,” he began, “when I was little, my mother fell for another man. My sister never accepted him, and it ruined everything. I dont want thatI want to be Sophies second father.”
Emilys heart broke. When he saw the girl, freezing in shock before shooting her a confused look, she knew: he understood.
“Whats the difference?” she thought. “Id have to tell him eventually.”
Bracing for accusations, she was stunned when Thomas embraced her and whispered, “What a wondrous miracle.”
At first, Sophie seemed fine with Thomas. But when Emily gently asked if he could move in, the girl sobbed, “I thought Daddy was coming back! Let Thomas live somewhere else.”
Emily persuaded her, but Thomas was hurt. “Shes my daughter! They deserve to know!”
“James couldnt bear itnor could Sophie. To her, hes her father. To him, shes his only childhis new wife cant have any.”
Resentful, Thomas endured Sophies tantrums as Emily kept the peace. They set rules: she took Sophie to James alone, never left her with Thomas (theyd argue), and even prepped cards for Mothers Day to avoid slips.
Then Emily fell pregnant againand panicked. Would this child look just like Sophie? Would James figure it out? Would Sophie grow jealous? Worsewould Thomas confess while she was in hospital?
They planned for her mother to watch Sophie, but she was hospitalized with gallstones. Her stepfather refused, her brother was busy, and James was away.
“Cant I care for my own daughter?” Thomas fumed.
The birth was rougha caesarean, then jaundice kept Emily hospitalised. At home, tension simmered. Thomas claimed all was fine, but Sophie was withdrawn. “He mustve told her,” Emily feared.
Neighbours urged honesty: “The truth always comes out.” Galvanised, she called James.
“I need to confess something.”
“What?”
A pause. “About Sophie…”
“What about her?”
“Shes not… yours.”
“Your friends. Ive known for years.”
“He told you?”
“I suspected at one. Before conscription, doctors said I couldnt father children. I hoped for a miracle. Then I doubted. My mother… I confirmed it.”
“But why keep it secret?”
“What could I do? Shes innocent! Dont tell herI accepted this to keep her.”
Homecoming brought unease. Sophie and Thomas exchanged odd glances.
“How did you manage without me?” Emily asked nervously.
“Perfectly! You overprotectedwe sorted ourselves.”
“Did you tell her?”
“No! You forbade it.”
“Then why is she so quiet?”
Thomas grinned. “Ask her.”
In Sophies room, Emily found her drawing: three adults, two children.
“Whos this?”
“Cant you tell? You, Daddy, Thomas, me, and baby Oliver.”
“Its lovely.”
“Is it okay if someone has two dads?”
Emilys throat tightened. The trap shed built was closing. James forgave her. Thomas would too. But if Sophie ever learned the truth…
She hugged her. “Yes, you can call him Daddy. Hed love that. But dont tell Daddy… yet.”
