**The One Cheat Before the Wedding: How a Comment About Weight Changed Everything**
Emily was unfaithful to her fiancé, James, just oncebefore the wedding. Hed called her *chubby* and joked she wouldnt fit into her wedding dress. Stung, she stormed off to a club with her mates, got properly sloshed, and woke up in a strangers flat beside a bloke with unfairly perfect blue eyes. Mortifying. She never told James, forgave his cruel remark, and threw herself into dieting. She also swore off boozemostly because she soon discovered she was pregnant, and well, that was a convenient excuse.
Their daughter, Isabelle, arrived right on timeadorable, blue-eyed, and absolutely doted on by James. For five years, Emily told herself everything was fine. *So what if Isabelle had curls?* Jamess dad had blue eyes too. She tried desperately to forget the bloke whose name she couldnt even recall. But deep down, she *knew*. Maybe thats why she let James get away with everything: late-night texts, endless work trips, his constant nitpicking about her cooking and waistline. Isabelle needed a family, and what man *doesnt* fib a bit?
*”Put up with it, lovewhere else would you go?”* her mum said, sighing. *”No space here. Grans in the spare room, your brothers moved his missus inwhered I put you? Told you not to sign that flat over to your mother-in-law!”*
So Emily endured. Until James left anyway. Hed met someone else, he wept, swore hed always be Isabelles dad, but *”I cant ignore my heart!”* Even her mum, who supposedly adored her granddaughter, muttered after the divorce: *”Get a paternity test. No point paying child support if shes not even yours.”*
Emily was stunnedshed thought *she* was the only one with doubts.
*”Have you lost the plot?”* James snapped when she brought it up. *”Isabelles *mine*anyone with eyes can see that!”*
Her mother-in-law clearly disagreed. Because when Emily landed in hospital with appendicitis a year later, old suspicions crumbled the second she recognised the surgeon.
*”Sorry, have we met?”* he asked.
Emily shook her head *vigorously*. Prayed he wouldnt remember.
He did. The next day, smirking, he said, *”Hope youre not planning another disappearing act?”*
She turned tomato-red. Desperate to escape, she hadnt accounted for one thing: in those few hospital days, Oliver*that* was his namemanaged to make her *want* to stay.
She mentioned Isabelle vaguely, careful to dodge the father question. Oliver clocked it instantly when he met the girl. He fretted, bought her a doll, grilled Emily on how to act.
*”Look,”* he said, *”when I was a kid, my mum met a bloke she loved. My sister hated him, so Mum sent him packing. I dont want that. I want to be a proper dad to Isabelle.”*
Emily was floored. And when he froze, staring at Isabelle, she *knew*hed figured it out.
*”Whats the difference?”* she thought. *”The truth will come out eventually.”*
Braced for shouting, she got none. Oliver just hugged her tight and whispered, *”Bloody *marvellous*, this.”*
Isabelle seemed to adore himuntil Emily tentatively asked if shed mind Oliver moving in. The girl burst into tears.
*”I thought Daddy was coming back! Oliver can live *somewhere else*.”*
Emily eventually won her over, but Oliver was gutted. *”Shes *my* daughter! They *need* to know!”*
*”James wont cope. Neither will Isabelle. To her, *hes* her dad. And his new wife cant have kidshis mum *told* me. Shes all hes got.”*
Oliver sulked. Isabelle threw tantrums. Emily played peacekeeper, setting rules: shed drop Isabelle at Jamess to avoid awkward run-ins, leave Oliver and Isabelle alone to *not* argue, and basically act as referee. She even prepped Isabelle for Mothers Day, terrified shed blurt something.
Then Emily found out she was pregnant again. Panic set in. What if this baby looked like Isabelle? What if Isabelle resented Oliver more? What if he spilled everything while she was in labour?
Her mum agreed to take Isabellereluctantly, since her brother had already blessed her with two grandkids. But fate laughed: the day before the birth, Mum landed in hospital with gallstones. Her stepdad refused a third child, her brother and his wife were always at work. Fine, Isabelle would stay with James. Except*typical*he was abroad, and asking her ex-mother-in-law was *not* an option.
*”You think I cant handle one kid?”* Oliver snapped.
The birth was roughera C-section, jaundice, and at home? *Chaos*. Oliver insisted all was fine, but Isabelle wouldnt speak to Emily. *”He told her,”* she thought.
Neighbours, now *invested*, nagged her to confess: *”Secrets always come out!”* Hormonal and harried, she called James.
*”I need to tell you something.”*
*”What?”*
Silence. Words failed her.
*”This is about Isabelle, isnt it?”*
*”What about Isabelle?”* she squeaked, though that *was* the plan.
*”Shes *your* blokes kid. I know.”*
*”HE TOLD YOU?!”*
*”Found out *ages* ago. Got tested before basic trainingthey said Id never have kids. Hoped for a miracle, but Mum kept hinting. So I checked.”*
Her mind short-circuited. Hed *known* all these years?
*”What was I *supposed* to do?”* he said. *”Shes *innocent*. Dont you *dare* tell her!”*
On discharge day, Emily watched James and Oliver exchange *looks*. Both acted weird.
*”Howd you manage without me?”* she asked later as Isabelle drew.
*”Brilliantly. Didnt need guardingwe *actually* get on.”*
*”Did you tell her?”*
*”Course not. You *forbid* it.”*
*”Then whys she so quiet?”*
Oliver smirked. *”Ask her yourself.”*
Isabelle was scribbling fiercely, tongue poking out. Emily peered over her shoulder. The drawing showed three adults and two kids.
*”Whats this?”*
*”Duh. You, Daddy, Oliver, me, and baby William.”*
*”Lovely.”*
*”Mum? Can someone have *two* dads?”*
*HE TOLD HER.*
*”Well sometimes,”* she said carefully.
*”So can I call Oliver Dad? Hes nice. We built a Lego castle and watched fish. This funny old shopkeeper asked who my dad was, and I said the doctor because he meant Oliver. Its cool having a doctor dad. I *asked* him, but wanted to check with you.”*
Emilys throat tightened. Shed trapped *herself*. James had forgiven her. Oliver would too. But if Isabelle ever found out Time to choose: truth now, or pay later. She hugged her daughter.
*”Of course you can. Oliver would *love* that. But maybe dont tell Daddy?”*
