**Dark Secrets of the Past**
“Alex, don’t be late tonight, please,” Anna said to her husband, stirring a pot of stew in their London flat. “Our Emily wants us to meet Daniel, her boyfriend!”
Leonard sighed heavily. His little girl was all grown up—already with a fiancé. Time had flown. Daniel was charming: clever, well-read, with an easy smile. Leonard liked him instantly; Anna was equally pleased. Emily glowed—everything had gone perfectly.
But one day, browsing a shopping centre for Anna’s birthday gift, Leonard heard a voice that froze his blood.
For two years, he’d lived a double life. He’d met Laura by chance when she lightly bumped his car in a parking lot. The scratch was trivial, but she’d apologised so earnestly that she convinced him to grab coffee nearby. He agreed. There was something magnetic about her—fragile yet vibrant. She was funny, lonely, with a spark in her eyes. The conversation stretched.
They began meeting at her place. Leonard confessed he was married. Laura didn’t care—she’d fallen for his confidence.
With Anna, he’d built a life. Seven years of marriage, a cosy London flat. Both earned well, but infertility shadowed them. Doctors found no cause—just cruel luck.
Leonard never planned to leave Anna. He saw Laura when convenient, carefully balancing both lives. Perhaps it dulled his guilt.
“Alex, I’m pregnant,” Laura blindsided him one evening. “It’s time to choose. Us, or her. I’m done waiting.”
Leonard reeled. They’d always been careful. A child wasn’t part of this arrangement.
“How?” he choked out.
“Nothing’s foolproof,” she shrugged.
“I want children,” he admitted. “But not like this. Give me time.”
Driving home, he decided: honesty. He’d tell Anna and file for divorce. He couldn’t hide a child.
But Anna greeted him with tears of joy.
“Darling, the doctor confirmed it—we’re having a baby! At last!” Her joy was contagious.
“That’s… amazing,” he breathed, masking his turmoil.
Two pregnancies in one day. How could he break her heart now?
By morning, his choice was clear: he’d stay. Laura would have to let go. He couldn’t split himself between two families.
That evening, over tea in her kitchen, he steeled himself.
“Laura, listen. Anna’s pregnant. After years of trying… I can’t leave. I’ll support you—financially. You’re young. You’ll find someone better.”
She listened silently, no tears, no rage.
“Understood,” she said coolly. “I’ll book the appointment. Don’t come back.”
Leonard clenched his jaw and left.
Twenty-two years later.
“Alex, don’t be late,” Anna reminded. “Emily’s bringing Daniel. Just… go easy on him.”
Leonard smiled. His Emily, all grown up. He remembered every milestone—her first steps, her tiny hands clutching his. She’d inherited Anna’s grace, her warmth.
Daniel was impressive: sharp, ambitious. A university mate of Emily’s. Leonard approved. Anna did too. Emily beamed—her choice was accepted.
Then, in a shopping centre café, a voice shattered his peace.
“Leonard? There you are!”
He turned. Daniel stood there—beside Laura.
Nearly unchanged, just softer with time.
“Mum, this is Emily’s father,” Daniel introduced awkwardly.
Laura’s hand trembled as she shook his.
“Small world,” she muttered.
Daniel excused himself, leaving them alone.
“Congratulations,” she said quietly.
“Your son?” Leonard stammered. “You married?”
“Yes. I didn’t know Emily was yours. He never mentioned her surname.”
“Christ,” Leonard exhaled.
Laura leaned in. “They can’t be together.”
“Why?” he frowned. “Our past doesn’t concern them.”
“You don’t understand,” she whispered. “Daniel’s yours.”
The world tilted.
“You kept him?”
“Couldn’t go through with it. Never regretted it. He thinks my husband’s his father. What now, Leonard? How do we tell them?”
Leonard’s mind raced.
Anna was ironing when he returned.
“We need to talk,” he said hoarsely.
Her smile faded.
“Years ago, I had an affair. She got pregnant. I was going to leave—then you told me you were expecting. I stayed. Today… I met Daniel’s mother. He’s my son.”
Anna staggered, gripping the sofa.
“How…?”
“I’m sorry,” he said. “But Emily can’t marry her brother!”
Anna laughed bitterly.
“Another confession, then. Emily isn’t yours.”
Leonard stared.
“I had an affair too. That month, we weren’t… close. But I was desperate for a child. It was a colleague. He’s long gone. So, no—they’re not siblings.”
Leonard’s chest caved.
“You lied? All these years?”
“Forgive me,” she whispered.
He grabbed his keys and fled.
Hours later, parked by the Thames, he called Laura.
“Told Anna everything. Turns out… Emily isn’t mine.”
Laura’s laugh was hollow.
“Quite the pair. At least the kids need never know.”
When he returned, Anna waited, eyes red.
“I thought you wouldn’t come back,” she said.
Leonard pulled her close.
“Emily’s my daughter. I raised her. That’s all that matters now.”
