Another Chance at Happiness
Emily woke up feeling different. Today was her eighteenth birthday, and she sensed something special was about to happen. Her heart fluttered with anticipation, dreaming most of all of a delicate ring—a slender band with a tiny diamond.
“Happy birthday, love!” Her parents walked in. Her mother held a small velvet box, while her father beamed with pride.
Emily jumped up, flipped open the lid, and gasped as she slid the ring onto her finger.
“It’s perfect… Thank you! But it must’ve cost so much…”
“You’re our only girl, Emmy. Nothing’s too much for you,” her father chuckled.
“And that’s not all,” her mother winked. “Since we’re on holiday and you’re off school, we’ve packed the car—we’re heading to the coast!”
Emily could hardly believe it. The seaside! Sunshine! New swimsuits! Her friends would be green with envy—especially Victoria, who never missed a chance to boast about her travels.
The rain had stopped by the time they left the city. The motorway was busy. Emily gazed out the window, imagining her return—sun-kissed and full of joy…
Then—darkness.
She awoke in a white hospital room, every inch of her body screaming in pain. A nurse adjusted her pillow with gentle hands.
“Easy now, pet. Stay still. I’ll fetch the doctor.”
Emily struggled to move—then panic seized her.
“Where’s Mum? Dad?! I need to see them!”
An older doctor with round spectacles sat beside her, calm but stern.
“Emily… There was an accident. Your car collided with a lorry. Your parents… didn’t make it. It’s just you now.”
Her world shattered. Not pain—emptiness. Emily refused to believe it. No, her dad always drove carefully…
But the doctor’s words were true.
Days passed. Drips fed her veins as she cried herself to sleep, calling for her parents. One evening, the doctor spoke softly:
“Emily… You’ve survived two major surgeries. We saved your life. But… you’ll never bear children. I’m sorry.”
The second blow cut deeper than the first.
After discharge, she found she had no family left—just a frail grandmother in a Yorkshire village, too ill to care for anyone. Her only friend was Victoria, who visited out of obligation. A boy named James had tagged along a few times, strolling with Emily in the park, but soon vanished.
Then Victoria showed up with Thomas in tow. He noticed Emily instantly—her quiet strength, her solemn gaze. Hearing of her loss, he chose to stay.
He visited more often, sometimes without Victoria. They walked together. Emily laughed again—for the first time in months. But guilt gnawed at her. She had to ask Victoria.
“Vicky… Are you upset about Thomas?”
“Would you drop him if I said yes?” Victoria smirked coldly.
Emily faltered. “I just… don’t want to lose you.”
Victoria nodded, bitterness flashing in her eyes.
“That cripple… And Thomas falling for it. Should’ve never introduced them.”
Thomas never cared about Emily’s scars. He brought flowers. Whispered his love. And Emily bloomed—but fear lingered. One day, she confessed to Victoria:
“The doctor said I can’t have children. How do I tell him? He’ll leave…”
“Tell him,” Victoria feigned concern. “He deserves to know.”
Instead, she sprinted to Thomas and spilled everything—twisting the truth.
“Emily’s barren. Doubt she’ll tell you herself… but you should know what you’re signing up for.”
Thomas stared at her, silent. Then:
“Thanks. That’s all I needed.”
He left.
Emily paced her flat, steeling herself when he arrived.
“I… need to tell you something—”
He pulled her close. “I know. And I don’t care. I love you.”
She didn’t ask how. It didn’t matter. He’d stayed.
Their wedding was small but radiant. Years later, he murmured:
“Let’s adopt.”
She sobbed. It was her salvation.
Little Sophie became their world. Emily spoiled her rotten—only the best. But when Sophie started school, Thomas grew uneasy.
“Can’t you see? She’s not studying. She’s playing you.”
“All girls wear makeup,” Emily waved him off. “Stop nitpicking.”
Sophie lied. Hid her phone. Pretended to study. Thomas seethed.
“She’s manipulating you. Are you blind?”
“I trust my daughter!”
Sophie listened. One evening, she whispered:
“Mum… Dad hit me. Three times.”
When Thomas came home, Emily barred the door.
“Get out. You raise a hand to my child? Never.”
“Emily, what nonsense?! I’d never—She’s lying!”
“I believe my daughter.”
He packed his bags. Left.
And Sophie grinned. Everything was hers now.
Years passed. Emily grew weary of the lies, the demands, the vanishing money. She missed Thomas. His touch. His voice.
“Forgive me…” she whispered at night. “Forgive me for not listening.”
She dreamed of knocking on his door—where coffee brewed, where he might still wait. Maybe fate would give her another chance.
She’d been given one before… and let it slip.
