My name is Edward. I counted myself incredibly fortunate in life, blessed to become both a husband and a father. I married Emily, the girl Id adored ever since our school days. She waited for me faithfully while I finished my time in the army, and when I came home, we married without hesitation.
First, our eldest son, Oliver, was born. Three years later, along came our second, Harry. But in the quiet spaces of my heart, I longed for a daughter. Even when Emily was pregnant for the first time, I would announce to anyone whod listen that what I truly hoped for was a baby girl. People were surprisedafter all, most men dream of sons. But I found myself daydreaming of a daughter. Life, however, had its own plans: Emily gave birth to a son, and three years on, another.
Despite everything, Emily and I lived happily. Our little family thrived, and the boys grew strong and wild. Then, one evening, Emily caught me off guard in the kitchen with news Id never expectedshe was pregnant once more. The shock nearly knocked me off my feet. We hadnt planned for a third child, but joy soon replaced my surprise at the thought of our family expanding again.
So, youre finally going to give me a daughter! I grinned, only half-joking. I know itll be a girl this time. Emily just smiled and rolled her eyes.
Both our mums insisted they could tell, just by the shape of Emilys bump, that it would certainly be a girl, and even the sonographer at the scan agreed. A flutter of excitement overtook our household. Our boys put their heads together and excitedly decided on a name for their soon-to-be baby sister.
When the time came, I drove Emily to St Marys Maternity. I didnt sleep all night, nerves twisting my insides. I wondered how Emily was, whether our daughter had arrived safely. In the morning, I called the hospital, bracing myself for newsand they told me that Emily had delivered a healthy baby boy, weighing seven pounds and bouncing as could be.
I stared blankly at the receiver, numb. Surely, it was a mistake? Everyone had said it would be a girl. But no, the truth was we had a third son. None of us had seen it coming. I couldnt make sense of ithow had the sonographer gotten it so wrong? When I called Emily, my words wouldnt come out right:
Tell me the truth, did you have an affair with the neighbour or something?
Edward! What rubbish! What on earth are you on about?
Butwe were supposed to have a girl!
For heavens sake, youre being ridiculous! Emily snapped and hung up, her anger echoing in my chest.
When Emily and our son were discharged from hospital, I brought them home. When she unwrapped the tiny baby from his swaddle, I looked down at himso vulnerable and needing nothing but love. Instantly, I felt my heart expand with the same fierce affection I had for my sons before him. We named our new boy Charlie. Time passed, and soon enough, I was teaching Charlie to ride his scooter down the path. He didnt resemble me, not in the slightestif anything, he favoured Emily a bit. Our older sons, meanwhile, were spitting images of me.
One afternoon, I walked past a group of neighbours chatting by the garden gate. The grandmothers were mid-conversation, voices hushed though not quiet enough.
Have you noticed how Charlie looks so much like Simon from down Primrose Lane?
My ears burned. Hurt, I turned and went straight to Emily.
Emily, I need you to tell mewhos really Charlies father?
And with that, all hell broke loose.
Oh, not this again! How could you even think such a despicable thing? You suspect me of cheating, after all these years?
I need to know, Emily! I mean, Simon gave you that lift from work once!
He did, yes, because I was pregnant and feeling sick, lugging shopping bags. He gave me a lift, thats all! Is that a crime?
No, its not. Still, Charlie doesnt look a thing like me
Our argument simmered for days. Emily was beside herself with anger. Eventually, I decided to suggest a paternity test. Emily refused at first, but after a couple of weeks, in a fit of frustration, she agreed. Fine, she said, her voice icy, but after this, Ill divorce you. I cant forgive your suspicion.
Days later, as I went to put the rubbish out, I saw Simon. He was thirty-five, never married, and as I watched him for a moment, I realised he looked nothing like Charlie either.
Back in the kitchen, I sat thinking, my mind a jumble. Charlie bounded in, jumped onto my lap, and flung his arms around my neck, chattering away about his toy trains. In that moment, a deep calm settled over me. What was I doing, acting like such a fool? This was my sonno test could ever change what I felt in my heart.
I scooped Charlie up and carried him through to Emily.
Were not doing the test, I said.
What? I was all geared up for this, ready to settle your doubts once and for all! Emily snapped.
That week, I spent every spare moment apologising to Emily, begging for her forgiveness and vowing that Id never doubt her loyalty again. In time, she forgave me. Our children grew. Our eldest, Oliver, married and his lovely wife gave us our first granddaughter.
At last, my yearning had come true. I became a granddad to the sweetest baby girl, and I lavish her with lovejust as much as I always have for the three sons I am lucky enough to call my own.
