Three years after our marriage ended, I suddenly became father to newborn twins. My own fault, I should’ve finalised the divorce properly! Yet it turned out a blessing…
Olga and I were wed ten years. We had two daughters close in age, Caroline and Darlene. Life seemed ordinary enough: work by day, family each evening. But lately, Mum was often delayed somewhere – visiting a friend, stuck in a shop queue, snowed under at work… Eventually, kind souls informed me Olga had taken a lover.
Naturally, I confronted her. Olga defended fiercely; attack, as they say, is the best defence. I hadn’t lavished enough attention; she’d stopped feeling womanly; chores consumed her; the girls, it seemed, preferred only me… She shouted, declared she was leaving for her lover. And she truly went, abandoning the girls with me.
Caroline and Darlene were lost, wondering where Mummy vanished. But they adjusted. When work offered relocation – heading a new branch in another city – I accepted. We packed swiftly; moving was so sudden I hadn’t officially dissolved the marriage.
At the new office, I met a lovely woman. Annabelle was my age, also raising two daughters alone. Soon, we moved in, one big family. Our girls were near the same age; evenings buzzed constantly – they played wildly together, then bickered fiercely. Like a proper nursery! Annabelle and I delighted in them, secretly trying for a son together… yet somehow, it never happened.
When the bizarre call came, Annabelle and I had lived together two years, despairing of a son… Well, perhaps not meant to be, we’d raise our girls. But that call…
The mobile number showed my hometown landline:
“Nicholas Bennett?”
“Yes?”
“Bad news, I’m afraid… Your wife, Olivia Parker, unfortunately never regained consciousness and passed today. Come collect the children; they’re discharged tomorrow. We’ll explain arrangements concerning Olivia tomorrow.”
“Some sort of joke? I haven’t seen Olivia Parker in three years. Our children are beside me.”
“No idea, but you’re listed as the father. Collect the twins.”
The line went dead. Stunned, I checked the number online: absolutely, my hometown’s maternity hospital.
Annabelle watched me wide-eyed, having overheard; just as bewildered. We bundled the girls to my parents and rushed to uncover this madness with my former wife.
Outside the hospital, we met Olivia’s friend. She told us the lover abandoned her the moment she announced her pregnancy. Things turned grim carrying twins and near the end… She said the babies were saved immediately, but their mother slipped into a coma, gone days later. Registering the twins, their mother couldn’t update her details; they used the registry office records where I remained legally her husband, automatically naming me their father.
Sobbing, Olivia’s friend promised help if needed and left. Annabelle stayed close, gripping my hand far too tightly.
“Belle? What is it?”
“Nick… We *are* taking them home, aren’t we?”
She struggled fiercely to hide her beaming smile, brimming with joy.
“Them? The twins?”
“Yes! Please! What if we never get our own? And here’s two, all ready…”
“Belle, they aren’t toys! I just don’t know…”
“Nick, I mean it! Think how thrilled the girls will be! Yours share half their blood, brothers… Oh, Nick…”
Well… I couldn’t resist. We collected the twins. Olivia Parker was laid to rest properly.
Our girls shrieked with glee over their new baby brothers, utterly baffled how they’d missed Mummy Belle having a tummy!
Claim Your Twins: I Don’t Know Anything, But You’re Listed as Their Father!
