Another Chance at Happiness
Emily woke with a spark of joy—today was her eighteenth birthday. She knew her parents had prepared a gift, though she wasn’t sure what. Still, she had a hunch: a delicate gold ring with a diamond, something she’d longed for.
“Wake up, love! Happy birthday!” Her mother stood there, holding out a tiny ring, while her father beamed beside her.
“Thank you, Mum, Dad!” Emily sprang up, slipping the ring onto her finger at once. “It’s gorgeous!” She hugged them each in turn, kissing their cheeks. “But it must’ve cost a fortune—”
“Would we deny our only daughter her heart’s desire on her eighteenth?” her father chuckled.
“Up you get, darling. There’s more—we’ve planned a surprise trip. The seaside! With your uni break and our holiday time, it’s perfect,” her mother added.
“You sneaky things! Keeping it secret all this time? What about packing—”
“Already done. Just check your things, see if we’ve missed anything…” Her mother smiled and slipped out.
Emily was over the moon. Only the rain outside dampened her spirits—but by the time they’d loaded the car, it had stopped. The motorway stretched ahead, buzzing with life. She imagined sunbathing, swimming, returning brown as a berry. The girls would be green with envy—especially her best mate, Sophie…
Emily’s eyes fluttered open. Pain seared through her as she tried to sit up, a scream tearing from her throat.
“Don’t move, love. Stay still.” A nurse in white adjusted her pillow. “I’ll fetch the doctor.”
A spectacled man took her hand. “There was an accident on the motorway—a lorry skidded into your lane. Your parents… they didn’t make it. You’re lucky to be alive.”
“Mum? Dad? Where are they?” Tears rolled down her cheeks.
“Emily… you must be strong. They’re gone.”
No. Her father was always so careful. But the truth was brutal: rain, black ice, a skidding lorry. The weeks blurred—needles, grief, a hollow ache. The doctor was gentle but firm: two major surgeries. She’d never have children.
Time crawled. No family visited—just Sophie, who once brought along James, a boy she’d fancied from the park. He never came back.
After discharge, Sophie tried to distract her, bringing round Tom—who fancied Sophie. But Tom’s eyes lingered on Emily, this quiet girl with shadows in her gaze. When he learned about the accident, something in him softened.
Soon, the three strolled together—until Tom came alone. Emily filled his thoughts. She bloomed beside him but fretted over Sophie’s feelings. It was time to talk.
“Soph… you’re not cross about Tom, are you? I’m sorry—”
Sophie’s smile was thin. “And if I am? Would you ditch him?” She knew the truth—Tom was smitten, beyond her reach.
Emily missed the bite in her tone. “Don’t be silly! You’re not really angry?”
Sophie nodded, teeth gritted behind her grin. *Stupid, broken Emily. Should’ve never introduced them.*
Tom didn’t see scars—only her. Roses, declarations of love. Emily panicked. Serious love meant intimacy, marriage, children. How could she confess? She unburdened herself to Sophie.
“I don’t know what to do… Tom loves me, but I’ll never give him kids. I have to tell him—”
“Of course you should,” Sophie purred, already plotting. She cornered Tom first.
“Tom… I shouldn’t say this, but Emily can’t have children. Doubt she’ll tell you.”
Tom studied her, then walked away.
Emily steeled herself, ready to confess when he arrived. But he pulled her close before she could speak.
“Don’t. I know. And it changes nothing.”
She forgot to ask how. Love was enough. Their wedding was small. Happiness bloomed—yet the ache for a child lingered.
“Emily,” Tom murmured one evening, “what if we adopted?”
“God, thank you for this man,” she whispered.
They brought home a baby girl—Katie. They doted on her, refused her nothing. By first grade, she had the finest shoes, the prettiest bows. Spoilt rotten—though Tom grumbled.
Years passed. Katie grew wilful—schoolwork ignored, demands endless. Tom saw the manipulation; Emily, blind with love, indulged her.
*”She’s playing us,”* he warned. *”Fourteen and painted like a peacock. Phone glued to her hand.”*
*”All girls wear makeup now,”* Emily dismissed.
Katie eavesdropped, scheming. Books open, phone hidden—until Tom caught her.
“Mum, Dad’s so mean! Tell him you’ve checked my work already.”
Demands escalated. “I need pocket money. Get a second job if you’re skint!” Then their holiday savings vanished. Tom lifted her mattress—found the cash.
“Emily, see this? She’s stealing from us!”
Emily defended her, even siding against him.
Katie struck the final blow: “Mum… Dad hits me when you’re out.”
Emily recoiled in horror. That night, she confronted Tom.
“Pack your things. Leave. I won’t let you hurt her.”
“Have you lost your mind? I’d never—”
“I believe my child.”
Tom left. Katie rejoiced—free rein at last.
But Emily’s doubts grew. Tom’s words haunted her. Regret festered. Perhaps… perhaps she’d beg his forgiveness.
Life might grant her another chance at happiness.
