She promised her daughter would stay with grandma… but everything changed
“Arthur, what’s with the long face?” Max clapped him on the shoulder as they left the gym.
“My life’s falling apart, and I’m pretending it’s fine,” Arthur muttered, staring at the ground.
“Let’s grab a coffee—you can tell me. Sounds serious.”
They slipped into a small café near the fitness club, ordered lattes and a slice of Victoria sponge. Max launched into stories about picking out a pram for his newborn son, laughing at the ridiculous choices. But Arthur just nodded absently.
“You’re miles away. I’m rambling, and you look like you’re at a funeral,” Max finally said.
Arthur took a deep breath, knitting his fingers together.
“You know Emily has a daughter, Lily. She was just two when we got together. All this time, she’s been living with Emily’s mum in Manchester. Emily sent money, visited, but swore her mum would raise Lily. Even after we married and moved to London, she insisted, ‘It’s just us, always will be.’ But six months ago, she brought Lily home. Said it was easier—school’s close, everything’s nearby. But it’s not easier for me. It’s suffocating. I can’t live like this.”
Max was silent, then sighed heavily.
“Mate, you knew she had a kid. Did you honestly think the girl would stay in another city forever?”
“I knew… but Emily promised! She said Lily would stay with her grandma. Now the kid’s always underfoot, needing attention. I love Emily, but I can’t pretend that child’s mine.”
“Then either step up or walk away. There’s no halfway here. If you want Emily, you love Lily too. Or make room for someone who can.”
On the walk home, Arthur replayed the conversation. He remembered Emily asking him to take Lily to ballet, hoping they’d bond. He’d just scowled, brushed her off. Today, she asked him to drive Lily to dance class. He agreed but stayed silent the whole way. Lily chattered about her art lesson, how excited she was for Christmas.
“Arthur… do you not like me?” she suddenly asked.
“Why would you think that?”
“You never talk to me. You don’t smile. Do I make you cross? There’s a boy in my class I don’t like either—we’re not friends. Maybe it’s like that with us…”
He didn’t answer—they’d arrived at the studio. But her words stuck like a thorn.
That night, as Emily tucked Lily in, he approached her.
“Emily… will Lily go back to her grandma’s? Maybe after Christmas?”
She turned, eyes sharp with disbelief.
“Are you serious? We’ve been married six years. You’ve known about Lily from the start. She’s my daughter. She belongs with us now. Mum can’t manage anymore—she’s getting on. And a child needs her mother. What’s your problem?”
“We never agreed to this. I thought we’d have our own kids, not raise someone else’s girl. I’m sorry, but I don’t feel like she’s mine.”
Emily went pale. She stepped back, gripping the windowsill.
“Someone else’s? Six years together, plans, love… and now my daughter’s in the way? I need to think. You’re sleeping in the lounge tonight.”
Arthur lay on the sofa, thoughts darting like trapped sparrows. Emily was right. But it still burned—he’d trusted one truth, only for it to twist into another.
By dawn, he dreamed of Lily laughing, running to him, arms wide. He spun her, and she whispered, “Daddy.” He woke in a cold sweat, unsettled. The dream had cut deeper than expected.
He stood, faced the mirror. The choice was clear: embrace the girl, truly become family—or leave before he broke it further. The rest was up to him.
