I never knew she existed until today. I couldn’t just send her to a children’s home. She’s my daughter,” the man said.
Emily was cooking dinner and humming to herself. At last, she had something wonderful to tell Simon. They’d been together ten years. At first, they hadn’t rushed into having children—they were happy just the two of them. Emily had wanted to work, to gain experience.
She’d been desperate to land a job at a prestigious firm and had promised she wouldn’t be planning a family anytime soon. The work was good, with prospects for promotion. Emily had proven herself and was up for a raise. The salary was decent, and maternity pay would be generous—now they could finally think about a child. But it hadn’t been so simple. She’d been checked over—nothing wrong with her. Nor with Simon.
“Be patient,” the doctor had said. “It happens. You’ve worked hard, burned through a lot of energy and nerves. Relax. Don’t fixate on it. Just live, rest more—everything will work out,” the doctor had smiled, then prescribed vitamins.
At last, she got pregnant. At first, she didn’t believe it, thought it was a mistake. She bought two more tests, but the two lines appeared each time. She waited another week—couldn’t stand it any longer—and went to the clinic for a blood test. She and Simon were going to have a baby! Tonight, she’d tell him. They’d celebrate.
Emily fried the meat and listened to her body. Logically, she knew it was too early to feel anything, but she imagined she could sense new life inside her. She kept lifting her jumper to examine her stomach in the mirror. But to her disappointment, it stayed flat.
She’d turned off the hob long ago, the kettle cooled, but Simon still wasn’t home. He wasn’t answering her calls. At last, the front door clicked. From the sound of footsteps, Emily knew he hadn’t come alone. Her heart sank—she’d have to delay her surprise. News like this was private, just for the two of them.
Emily sighed and stepped into the hallway. Her breath caught—standing there was a girl around ten years old, her gaze stubborn and wary. Emily looked past her at Simon, who stood behind the girl, eyes downcast.
“Sorry I’m late. Had to pick up Lily,” he said, staring at the back of the girl’s head.
“Who is this? Why did you bring her here? Why didn’t you call?” The questions burst from Emily despite herself.
“Let’s go into the living room. I’ll explain,” Simon said, nudging the girl forward.
Emily stayed rooted, watching them disappear down the hall. When she entered the living room, they were already seated on the sofa. She took the armchair instead, needing to see their faces. The girl glanced at her blankly, then turned to stare out the window.
“This is Lily. My daughter,” Simon said. He looked guilty, tense, and oddly resolute.
“Your daughter? I don’t understand.”
“I only found out about her today. Her grandmother called—she’s being hospitalised. Asked me to take Lily.”
“Why do you think she’s yours?” Emily’s voice was sharp.
Simon hesitated. “It all fits. We can do a DNA test, but I’m sure she’s mine. Either way, she’ll stay with us while her grandmother’s in hospital. There’s no one else—Lily’s mum died in a car crash six months ago.” He looked at the girl, who sat silently beside him. “Let’s eat first. Then I’ll explain properly.”
Emily stood and walked to the kitchen. Every part of her rebelled against this. But she couldn’t just throw a child out. It’s only temporary. A few days. This isn’t real. Simon and the girl joined her at the table. Emily served the roast and potatoes. She couldn’t eat. The girl pushed the meat aside.
“Don’t like meat?” Simon asked. Lily shook her head. “What do you like?”
“Spaghetti hoops,” she murmured, not looking up.
“Well, sorry. Your dad didn’t warn me he was bringing you,” Emily snapped, her anger spilling over. She’s barely here and already making demands.
“Tea? Or is juice the only thing you’ll drink? Oh wait—we don’t have any. Just tea,” she said, pouring it with deliberate carelessness.
“Emily, stop,” Simon cut in.
She slammed the kettle onto the hob and stormed out. She heard them talking, heard Simon—for the first time in years—doing the washing-up. When he came to the bedroom, she sat stiffly on the bed, arms crossed, staring into the dark. He tried to hold her, but she shoved his hand away.
“Lily needs to sleep,” Simon said.
“Sort the sofa bed then.” Emily pulled spare sheets from the cupboard. The girl stood against the wall, watching them warily. Once Lily was settled, they retreated to the kitchen. Simon explained his past with the girl’s mother.
“It ended before I met you. I never saw her again—until today. Her mum called out of nowhere, told me about Lily.”
“But why didn’t you call me? You just decided—brought her here. My opinion doesn’t matter?” ‘We’re going to have our own baby,’ she wanted to say, but stayed silent.
“Emily, I was in shock. I couldn’t leave her. Her grandmother’s dying. What was I supposed to do? Dump her in care? She’s my daughter.”
“You don’t know that for sure,” Emily hissed through gritted teeth.
“I’ll get a paternity test. Until then, she stays,” Simon said firmly.
His gaze said it all: ‘My decision. Deal with it.’ Maybe he didn’t even want their child now.
That night, she turned away from him. How could they be close with that strange girl—possibly his daughter—sleeping next door? She wanted to scream. Emily felt their life had shifted irreversibly, and there was nothing she could do.
The tension between Emily and Lily grew daily. They skirted around each other, barely speaking when alone. Lily did homework or played on her tablet. Emily hid in the kitchen. Resentment festered. Why now? Just when she’d finally gotten pregnant? Fine—let her stay. But her love would be for her own child.
On Saturday, Simon left early for the garage. Emily made lunch, then suggested Lily go outside. The girl obeyed silently. In the courtyard, Lily stood apart, watching other children play.
A wave of nausea hit Emily. She stumbled behind bare bushes. When she returned, Lily was gone. None of the other mothers had seen anything. Emily ran across the playground, calling for her, but the girl had vanished.
“How could you leave her alone? Where do we even look?” Simon shouted when he arrived.
“Don’t yell at me! I’m not her babysitter! She’s old enough—I just turned away for a second. Take her with you next time!”
“Not yours?” A woman approached, leading Lily by the hand.
“Where were you?” Emily snapped.
“Emily, let me—” Simon cut in. “Why did you leave?” His voice was calm but firm.
“I… I thought I saw Mum. I followed her. But it wasn’t her,” Lily said quietly.
“You can’t just wander off!” Emily couldn’t hold back. “What if something happened? What if you got hit by a car?”
“She looked like Mum,” Lily insisted, tears welling.
“Don’t cry. We were worried. Let’s go home.”
Emily had been feeling a dull ache for hours. Now it sharpened—wave after wave. She bit her lip, gripping the banister as they climbed the stairs.
“What’s wrong?” Simon noticed her falter.
“My stomach…” she gasped.
Two more steps—then she doubled over, crying out.
“Call an ambulance!”
Simon hauled her inside, laid her on the sofa, dialled 999. Lily hovered, wide-eyed. Emily barely registered the paramedics—their hands, their questions.
“We need to get her to hospital. Threatened miscarriage.”
“Miscarriage?” Simon gaped. “Emily… You’re pregnant? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I tried… That night… But—”
They loaded her into the ambulance. Simon and Lily followed. The wait in the corridor felt endless. Then a doctor emerged.
“I’m sorry. We couldn’t save the baby.”
Simon forgot Lily entirely, rushing to Emily’s side.
“Are you okay? I didn’t know—”
“Would it have mattered? I lost our baby because of her. If not for her, he’d be alive!” Emily choked back a sob. “Go away.”
Two days later, she was discharged. Seeing Lily reignited the rage. She felt like an outsider—alone and wretched. Lily had taken her place beside Simon. Even in bed, the girl stood between them.
Lily retaliated in small cruelties—knocking over tea, “accidentally”With time, Emily slowly realized that love wasn’t something to be divided—it only grew wider to make room for them all.
