Another Chance at Happiness
Emily woke up full of excitement—it was her eighteenth birthday, and she knew her parents had a gift waiting. She wasn’t sure what it was, but she had a feeling. She’d been dreaming of a delicate gold ring with a tiny diamond.
“Love, wake up! Happy birthday, sweetheart! Look what we got you,” her mum said, holding out a little ring while her dad stood by, grinning.
“Thank you, Mum, Dad!” She jumped up and slipped it on her finger. “It’s gorgeous,” she said, hugging them each in turn. “But… it must’ve cost so much.”
“Would we really miss the chance to spoil our girl on her eighteenth?” her dad chuckled. “Especially when you’ve wanted this for ages.”
“Come on, love, that’s not all,” her mum added. “We’ve got a surprise—we’re taking you to the seaside. It’s our holiday time, and you’re off from uni.”
“No way! You two sneaky things, keeping it a secret! What about packing?”
“Already done,” her mum laughed. “Just check if I’ve missed anything.” Then she slipped out of the room.
Emily was over the moon, though the rain outside dampened her spirits a bit. But by the time they loaded the car and set off, it had stopped. As they pulled onto the motorway, she imagined sunbathing, swimming, returning with a tan—her mates would be so jealous, especially her best friend, Sophie.
Blinking her eyes open, Emily gasped in pain as she tried to sit up. Every inch of her ached.
“Stay still, love, don’t move,” came a gentle voice. A nurse in a white uniform adjusted her pillow. “I’ll fetch the doctor.”
Soon, an older man in glasses took her hand. “There was an accident on the motorway—a lorry skidded into your car,” he said softly.
“Mum? Dad? Where are they?” Tears spilled down her face.
“Emily… you have to be strong. They didn’t make it. You’re here by a miracle.”
“No, that can’t be true! Dad was always so careful.”
But the doctor’s words were final—the lorry had lost control on the wet road. Emily’s recovery was slow, her grief relentless. The painkillers dulled her body, but not her heartache.
Time passed in the hospital. The doctor didn’t sugarcoat it—two major surgeries, and she’d never have children. Another blow. Still, she learned to walk again.
No relatives came. Her grandma, Dad’s mum, lived up in Scotland but was too ill to visit. Only Sophie dropped by, once bringing along James, a guy she’d fancied after a few park walks. But he never returned.
After discharge, Sophie tried to cheer her up, bringing over Oliver, a lad she fancied—though he insisted they were just mates. But Oliver only had eyes for Emily. Her quiet strength drew him in, and when he learned about her parents, he wanted to protect her.
Soon, the three hung out together—until Oliver started visiting alone. Emily brightened around him but worried about Sophie’s feelings. She finally broached it.
“Sophie, are you mad about Oliver? I’m sorry, I never meant—”
Sophie forced a smile, bitterness seeping through. “Oh, as if you’d drop him now. Admit it—you’ve won him over.” She knew she’d lost, no matter how hard she’d tried.
Emily missed the sarcasm. “Don’t be silly! You’re not really upset, are you?”
Sophie nodded, jaw clenched. Inside, she seethed: *If I’d known broken, barren Emily would snatch him, I’d never have introduced them.*
Oliver never noticed Emily’s scars—he showered her with praise instead, and she bloomed under his love. One day, he arrived with a huge bouquet. “I love you,” he said.
Emily panicked. Serious love meant intimacy, marriage… children. *How could she tell him?* She confided in Sophie.
“I don’t know what to do… Oliver loves me, but… the doctor said I can’t have kids. He’ll leave, won’t he? Who’d want a family without children? I have to tell him.”
“Of course you should,” Sophie agreed—then rushed to tell him first.
She twisted the knife. “Oliver, I know I’m Emily’s best mate, but there’s something you should know. She can’t have kids after the crash. Doubt she’ll admit it.”
Oliver stared. “Right. Thanks.” He walked away.
Emily waited nervously, resolved to confess. When he arrived, she blurted, “Oliver, I need to tell you something—”
He pulled her close. “You don’t have to. I know… and it doesn’t change a thing.” Too relieved to question how, she melted into his arms.
They married quietly. Happiness tinged with longing—until Oliver suggested, “What if we adopted?”
“Thank God for you,” she whispered.
Soon, they brought home little Lily, doting on her. Life had given Emily a second chance.
But as Lily grew, so did troubles. By first grade, she had the finest shoes, the prettiest ribbons—spoiled rotten. Dad grumbled, but Mum couldn’t refuse her.
Lily cared nothing for school, demanding treats instead. Mum kept indulging, even as Oliver warned, “Look at her—makeup at fourteen, glued to her phone! You’re raising a manipulator.”
“She’s just young,” Mum dismissed.
Lily eavesdropped, scheming. She’d spread books out—then sneak her phone. Dad caught on, scolding, while Mum covered for her.
“Dad’s always nagging!” Lily whined. “Tell him you’ve checked my homework!”
By Year 9, Lily demanded pocket money. “If you’re broke, get a second job! I need my nails done!”
Then Oliver found their holiday savings gone—stashed under Lily’s mattress.
“Look at this!” he growled.
Mum still defended her. “She didn’t mean it!”
“You’ve raised a thief!” he snapped.
Mum shot back, “I’ll always stand by her, not you!”
Lily poisoned the well. “Mum, when you’re out, Dad hits me!”
Mum erupted. “Oliver, pack your things. I won’t have you laying hands on her!”
“Have you lost your mind?” he choked out. “I’ve never touched her! Who do you believe—me or a lying child?”
“My child,” she said coldly.
As Oliver left, Lily smirked. *Now she could twist Mum any way she liked.*
Too late, Mum saw the truth—the lies, the thefts. She wept, remembering Oliver’s warnings. Maybe… just maybe, she could find him again. Beg forgiveness.
Life might grant her *one more chance* to be happy.
