A Long-Held Secret
The house of Edward and Elizabeth was alive with joy. Today was the wedding of their only son, William, who was marrying his beloved Emily. William hadn’t slept a wink, his eyes darting to the clock, terrified of being late or missing something. His nerves were on edge—after all, it wasn’t every day a man married for the first time.
“I’ve waited so long for this,” he thought. “Finally, I’ll call my Emily my wife. My beloved wife. We’ll be happy together—she loves me too.”
Emily woke with a lightness in her heart. Today was the most important day of her life—the day she married Will.
“He’s probably already awake at home, just as nervous as I am,” she mused, smiling at the thought of her soon-to-be husband. “Today, we become husband and wife. From now on, we’ll fall asleep and wake up together every day. Our love has won. Happiness is all that lies ahead.”
But life, as they say, isn’t all sunshine and roses. Along the way, there are trials—some pleasant, some painful, some impossible to solve. The hardest part is weathering them without losing the ones you hold dear.
At first, neither set of parents had been entirely pleased with their children’s choices. Every parent believes their daughter deserves an extraordinary husband, and their son, an extraordinary wife. But the young couple hadn’t listened. Their happiness together was unshakable, and no one could stand in their way.
The wedding was perfect. The bride glowed, radiant with joy, and the groom matched her in every way. Their married life began. Will and Emily made plans—dreamed of children, of a big house in the countryside.
“Our first will be a boy,” William declared confidently. “A son, an heir.”
“But Will, I want a girl,” Emily countered. “I’ll dress her in pretty frocks, like a little doll.”
In the end, they agreed—whoever came first, they would love that child with all their hearts.
Time passed. A year into their marriage, Emily still hadn’t fallen pregnant. The absence of a child weighed on them both. Emily cried in secret, terrified they might never have children.
Then, after eighteen months, the news they had been waiting for finally arrived.
“Will,” Emily said, breathless with excitement as she returned from the doctor’s, “we’re going to have a baby.”
Joy filled the household—expectant parents, soon-to-be grandparents, all thrilled. When the time came, a son, little James, was born.
“I told you it would be a boy,” William announced proudly to his parents.
The family gathered to bring Emily and James home from the hospital, showering them with gifts, cooing over the newborn. Happiness seemed unshakable. The young couple lived with Emily’s parents—their three-bedroom flat had enough space for now.
But soon, Elizabeth began to notice something amiss with Edward. He grew sullen, especially when he looked at his grandson, peacefully sleeping. One day, he finally snapped.
“Liz,” he muttered darkly, “look at the boy. Doesn’t it strike you as odd that two fair-haired, pale-skinned parents have a son with such dark hair and olive skin?”
Elizabeth waved him off. “Oh, Edward, don’t be ridiculous. Children change. His hair will lighten, just like his parents’.”
But as James grew, his dark curls remained. He toddled about, laughing, adored by his parents and grandmother—but Edward couldn’t shake his suspicions. Relatives visited, cooing over the handsome child, joking good-naturedly about distant relatives with similar colouring.
One day, Edward could bear it no longer.
“William,” he said bluntly, “surely you’ve noticed your son doesn’t resemble you. How can you be so calm? I see the truth—he’s not ours.”
William stiffened. “Are you accusing my Emily of being unfaithful? What are you implying?”
“What do *you* think, son? James doesn’t look like us. Our family has never had dark hair or olive skin—we’re all fair.”
“Don’t you dare speak about my wife like that,” William snapped. “She loves only me. This conversation is over.”
Edward fumed. He *would* prove the boy wasn’t his grandson. Secretly, while playing with James, he swabbed the child’s cheek with a cotton bud.
Weeks later, Edward returned home just as William was stepping out of the shop, carrying a cake—today was the anniversary of the day he and Emily had met.
His phone rang. It was Edward.
“Son, where are you? We need to talk.”
“Just outside the house. I’ll be right in.”
When William entered, Emily was out with James. Edward was waiting, grim-faced.
“Look at this,” he said triumphantly, slamming a sheet of paper on the table.
William stared, uncomprehending. “What is this?”
“I had James’s DNA tested. Against mine. The result? Negative. He’s not my grandson—which means he’s not your son.”
William was stunned, his mind flooded with black, twisting thoughts. When the shock faded, he waited for Emily’s return.
The moment she stepped inside with James, her smile faltered. She had never seen her husband like this.
“So you’re a cheat and a liar,” he spat. “After all my defence of you. How could you do this to me?”
Tears welled in Emily’s eyes. “What are you talking about?”
He threw the paper at her. “Do you even know who the father is?” he snarled.
“Will, what—?”
“That boy isn’t mine. Get out. Take your things and go to your parents.”
Without another word, Emily grabbed their essentials, snatched James’s documents, and left.
Dark days followed. William was volatile, his mother wept constantly—only Edward was satisfied. He had exposed her.
*But she was innocent.*
Two weeks later, Elizabeth finally spoke.
“This has gone on long enough,” she said, her voice trembling. “What I have to say hurts, but Emily doesn’t deserve this blame.”
She met her husband’s gaze.
“Edward, remember when we married, how long it took for me to conceive? We saw doctors. I never told you—you were infertile. Knowing your pride, I couldn’t. You’d have left me, so I could find another man to give me a child. But I couldn’t live without you. So I lied. Said the doctor sent me for treatment. I went away—and came back pregnant. The man I met… his mother was fair, but his father was dark—a Mediterranean heritage. I never imagined those genes would resurface in James.”
Edward was white with rage.
“How *could* you?”
“Forgive me,” Elizabeth begged. “Both of you. I only wanted our family.”
William’s face lit with relief.
“Mum… thank you. This means Emily’s innocent. And I threw her out. What if she never forgives me?”
While William rejoiced, Edward was storm-dark. Without a word, he packed his things and left.
Elizabeth wept as William held her.
“At least I saved your family,” she whispered.
William rushed to Emily’s parents’ house with an armful of flowers, determined to stay until she forgave him.
The door opened—little James beamed up at him. “Daddy!”
William swept him into his arms. Emily watched, hurt and wary.
“Why are you here?” she asked coldly. “I’ve done nothing wrong. Test him yourself if you doubt me. But I won’t live with a man who doesn’t trust me.”
“Emily, let me explain.”
When he finished, her anger melted. She laughed and cried, letting him wipe her tears.
“Forgive me,” he whispered. “There’s no one but you.”
A month later, Elizabeth had accepted that Edward was gone forever—until the front door creaked open.
There he stood, gaunt and shadow-eyed.
“Liz,” he said hoarsely, “I’ve always loved you. I just… never said it enough. You were right. If I’d known, I’d have left—for your sake. Maybe you did the only thing you could. James *is* my grandson. Let’s start over. As if none of this happened.”
Elizabeth sobbed as he held her.
Some secrets should stay buried. But Elizabeth had unearthed hers—for the sake of her son’s family. And though the truth had cost her, love, in the end, had won.
