Well, this is a bit awkward, isn’t it?
“You’re his *wife*?”
“In the most literal sense. Legally, at least—I could show you the stamp in my passport. Didn’t bring the certificate, sorry,” the woman said, resting a hand on her rounded belly.
***
“Sweetheart, I’m off on a work trip next week—signal’s rubbish out there, so don’t lose touch, okay?” said David Thompson.
“Don’t worry about the cat. I’ll pop round, feed him, clean the litter,” mumbled Emily, eyes glued to her phone.
“About the cat…” David hesitated. “Love, don’t trouble yourself—dragging all the way across town after work just for one cat. The neighbor down the hall—you know Mrs. Bennett?—she’ll drop in now and then to check on Chester.”
“You’re acting weird, Dad,” Emily laughed. “Your neighbor’s a proper saint, isn’t she? Feeds the cat, picks up milk, even nips to the pharmacy after work. Lucky you.”
“Right. Lucky me…”
David suddenly felt a pang of guilt for lying again. His brow furrowed, and he forced himself to think of something else—anything—to hide his unease. *She’s just teasing me. She’s got no idea.*
David and Emily’s mum had divorced seven years ago—amicably, no rows. They’d just agreed the love had faded. After talking it through with Emily, they’d filed the papers with clear consciences. Emily took it in stride, on one condition: family holidays would still be spent together. Everyone was fine with that.
“So, I’m your *neighbor* now?” Charlotte smirked.
“Couldn’t think of anything else…” David mumbled, avoiding her gaze.
“Calling me your wife is *so* difficult, I get it.”
“Lottie, don’t take it like that.”
“I’m a grown woman, Dave. But how long are we going to keep up this ridiculous charade?”
“I don’t *know*. What if she doesn’t understand? When she was little, she’d have these fears—one of us leaving, abandoning her. Feels like I’m betraying her.”
“Listen, I’m not interfering with you and Emily. But in two months, you’ll have *two* daughters. You’ll have to make a proper decision, yeah? I’m not forcing you to choose—God forbid—but how do you hide a *newborn*?”
“We’ll figure it out,” David said hollowly, with no idea how.
David had met Charlotte right after the divorce. Knew straight away—she was the one. But he couldn’t bring himself to tell his family, terrified Emily would turn away or his ex-wife would make seeing Emily a nightmare.
First, he’d agonized over Charlotte being a decade younger. Then, over marrying her in secret. Now, over the pregnancy. But with the due date looming, so was the truth—ready to burst like a boil. *I’ll tell her when the time’s right.*
David went to great lengths to hide his new marriage from Emily—avoiding her visits, meeting on neutral ground. And Emily, like any sharp young woman, teased him endlessly about his “mystery neighbor.”
That morning, when David returned from his trip, Emily decided to surprise him at home. But no one answered the door—or his phone, not on the first call, nor the tenth. Frantic, she stepped outside. She couldn’t have mixed it up: Dad had texted he’d landed at Heathrow, was on his way home, would call later. But he wasn’t there. *He’s a grown man. Probably ran an errand.*
“David’s been taken to hospital,” an unfamiliar voice cut through her thoughts.
“What? When? Where?” Emily spun around.
The voice came from a ground-floor window. An elderly neighbor, peeking out, explained she’d seen David return with his suitcase—must’ve been from his trip—then half an hour later, an ambulance arrived.
“From what I overheard, they’re taking him to cardiology. Looked steady on his feet—thank heavens, no stretcher! So not ICU,” the neighbor reasoned. “Knew you right off—you’re his girl. Always waiting for your taxi here, buzzing his flat.”
“How long ago?”
“Oh, an hour by now.”
Emily barely heard the rest. She trembled, lost—where was he? *What* was wrong? Why *cardiology*? *That’s heart stuff. He’s never had heart trouble!*
“Ring the ambulance service—might tell you where they took him,” the neighbor suggested, as if reading her mind.
Emily dialed with shaking hands, begging for help. Minutes later, the operator confirmed the hospital. She booked a taxi, fighting panic, shoving dark thoughts aside. Still no answer from Dad.
“They told me he’s here!” Emily blurted, near tears at reception.
“If he’s been admitted, I’ll check. How long ago?” the woman asked calmly.
“I don’t *know*. Half an hour? An hour? Please—help me.”
“Hold on—name and dob?”
“Thompson, David. 12th March 1973.”
“Wait in the corridor. I’ll update you.”
The receptionist made a call, then returned: “Cardiology ward. No visitors—ward’s under quarantine. If you’ve brought anything, leave it here. Nurses will collect. Visiting hours are posted at main entrance—this is for emergencies only.”
“Thank you—*thank you*.”
Emily bolted outside, hunting for the main entrance. *If he can come to the corridor, it can’t be that bad, right?*
Lost in thought, she barely registered reaching the lobby—where a nurse frowned, reminding her she’d come at the wrong time, and *really*, there’s a *quarantine*!
“They just *admitted* him! He’s not answering! I don’t know if he’s got *anything*! Let me *in*!” Emily shouted.
A hand touched her shoulder. She flinched, whirling around—expecting security, but instead, a pregnant woman, barely older than her, stood there.
“Emily, hello,” Charlotte said carefully.
“Do I *know* you?”
“Not exactly. I know *you*—very well. But to you, I’m just the ‘neighbor’ who feeds the cat and picks up prescriptions.” She tried to laugh.
“I don’t—are you *with* my dad? Did he call you? What’s *happening*?”
“I came myself. The hospital rang *me*.”
“…Why *you*?”
“Because I’m his wife.”
Emily froze. “*What*?”
“In every sense. Legally, at least—I’ve got the passport stamp to prove it. Left the certificate at home, sorry.” Charlotte shielded her belly instinctively. “Let’s step outside? I’ll explain. He’s *fine*—I brought his things. Come on.”
She guided Emily out, scrambling for the right words.
“*How* long? Why didn’t he *say*? And *this*—” Emily gestured at Charlotte’s stomach.
“This isn’t how I wanted to tell you. But you know what they say—‘Want to make God laugh? Tell him your plans.’ Your dad’s plan was ‘figure it out later.’ Well… later’s here.”
“Why keep it a *secret*?”
“Simple. He was terrified you’d hate him.”
“That’s *ridiculous*! I’ve been *worried* he was lonely—and now he’s got a *wife* and a *baby*?!”
“So… you’re not upset?”
“Are you *kidding*? I’m *thrilled*. Bloody *nursery* drama, honestly. No wonder his heart’s playing up—living a double life!”
Charlotte exhaled. “*When* can I see him?”
“Emily—can I call you that?” At her nod, Charlotte continued, “Ward’s locked down. They barely let *me* in—and only after a scene. If they allow it, try tomorrow morning. No food—he’s on a diet. I brought clothes. Once tests are done, he’ll call. Don’t panic—they think it’s a minor heart attack. Stable, walking, but needs rest.”
Emily looked dazed. Charlotte softened.
“Since we’ve met like *this*… why not come home? Proper chat, plan how to scold Dave—within reason,” she joked, linking arms with Emily. “Trust me, we’ll get on *famously*.”
“Feels a bit… awkward.”
“Awkward’s when I’m back from maternity and the baby doesn’t know her sister! *Come on*.” She tugged her toward the car. “We’re going to be *friends*.”
