**When Fate Comes Knocking**
In the vibrant heart of London, the head of marketing, Thomas Whitmore, a bachelor brimming with confidence, found himself drawn to the newest addition to the office—a sharp-witted and bold young woman named Evelyn “Evie” Hartley. The moment she stepped in, he strode toward her without a hint of hesitation.
“Good morning, colleague,” he said, his smile warm, nearly disarming, enough to make Evie hold his gaze a moment longer.
“Morning,” she replied softly, though with a spark, the corners of her lips curling in a knowing smirk.
“Right then, let’s get started. Margaret here will show you the ropes,” Thomas nodded toward the senior colleague overseeing mentorship. “Go over the manuals. Best of luck—hopefully, we’ll work well together.”
The office staff, mostly women, followed him with their eyes as he left. The moment the door shut, Margaret leaned over to whisper to her desk mate, Charlotte:
“Since when does our Tom fuss over newcomers like that?” They exchanged glances and stifled laughter.
Evie, at first, kept her guard up. A new team, unfamiliar faces. She was no wallflower—by twenty-three, she’d already left a string of fiery romances in her wake. Back in college, she’d entangled herself with a professor twice her age, who’d cut ties once rumours reached his wife. Evie had merely shrugged and moved on, her trail of heartbreaks as fleeting as her interest.
Two weeks later, Thomas asked her to stay late for coffee at a riverside café.
“Why not? You’re my boss—best stay on your good side,” she teased, her tone light yet laced with challenge.
For a heartbeat, he wondered if she was joking. But then his chest tightened with excitement. At thirty-two, he’d never gone the distance in love—always stopping short. With Evie, it all happened in a whirlwind: dates, passion, devotion. Soon, the office buzzed with news—Thomas and Evie were engaged.
**A Family on the Edge**
Thomas poured himself into Evie, indulging her every whim. She laid down her terms:
“No children, Tom. I want to live for myself. When I’m ready, I’ll say so. Until then—no prams, no sleepless nights.”
He clung to hope, certain time would change her mind. Months passed, yet she only waved him off:
“I told you from the start, Tom. Don’t push me. I’m not ready.”
Then, one evening, he found her in the bathroom, pale-faced, clutching a pregnancy test with trembling hands.
“Evie… you’re pregnant?” he breathed, barely daring to believe.
She nodded silently, eyes brimming with tears. Overjoyed, he swept her into his arms, but she suddenly sobbed:
“I don’t want this! I won’t be fat, won’t have my life ruined! Do something!”
He held her close, kissing her tear-streaked cheeks.
“Don’t cry, it’s a miracle. I love you, Evie. We’re having a baby!”
But she wouldn’t budge. She booked an appointment, resolved to end it. Thomas, discovering her plan, stormed into the clinic just in time, dragging her outside in a heated argument.
“Evie, please, don’t do this. Let our child live. I’ll take care of everything,” his voice cracked.
She relented—but on one condition: nappies, night feeds, the drudgery of parenthood wouldn’t be her burden. Through the pregnancy, he doted on her, anticipating her every need. When the time came, he drove her to the hospital. Only when he saw their healthy baby girl did he finally exhale.
**The Child She Left Behind**
Exhausted but elated, he returned home to rest. The next day, at the hospital, a nurse met him with a blow:
“Your wife’s gone. She left the baby.” She handed him a folded note.
“No—that’s impossible!” Thomas refused to believe. “She must’ve stepped out. Find her!”
But Evie had vanished. Calls went unanswered; her number was changed. Six weeks later, she rang:
“Pack my things. My friend James will collect them. File for divorce yourself—I’m not coming back.”
Not a word about their daughter. The child meant nothing to her—just as he no longer did. So he became both father and mother to little Sophie. His mother, living nearby, stepped in to help.
**Shadows of the Past**
Anna startled at the phone’s sharp ring. It was Miss Higgins, her son Oliver’s teacher.
“Mrs. Clarke, come to the school at once! Oliver’s caused trouble!” The line went dead.
Anna’s pulse raced as she rushed from work, mind spinning.
*What could Oliver have done? He’s gentle, well-behaved. Never any trouble.*
Oliver had defied all odds. Before their wedding, her husband, Richard, confessed the truth: he was infertile. A medical report proved it. This was his third marriage.
“Perhaps the doctors were wrong?” Anna had suggested. She loved him, ready to accept any outcome—even adoption—though she kept that thought to herself.
Richard’s first wife had left within a year—cheating. The second walked out upon hearing his diagnosis, desperate for children. With Anna, he’d been honest. Yet, to her shock, she conceived. Beaming, she showed him the scan: eight weeks.
“Richard, look—we’re having a baby! I told you doctors make mistakes!”
Instead of joy, he struck her across the face.
“Happy? You’ve gone behind my back!” he roared, raising his hand again.
She wept, shielding herself. That night, he cooled.
“Fine. Keep the brat. Even if it’s not mine.”
She stayed silent, refusing to argue. Oliver was born—the image of his father. At first, Richard watched him warily, even played with him. But soon, the rages returned.
“Tramp! Bet you’ve told your lover about the boy! Why put my name on him? Let *him* pay upkeep!”
Oliver grew older, flinching at the shouts. Richard sneered:
“Go find your real father—let him feed you!”
Anna took a DNA test, proving Richard’s paternity. He scoffed:
“Bribed the lab, did you? Not fooling me!”
She left with Oliver, fleeing to her mother’s. Richard tracked them down. Desperate, she moved across town, filed for divorce. Still, he pursued them. Only by relocating to another city did they find peace.
At the school, Anna found Oliver and a man with a girl—Sophie, Oliver’s classmate. Top of her year, a teacher’s pride. Oliver had a scratch on his cheek; Sophie glared at him.
“Hello,” Anna breathed as Miss Higgins approached.
“Here at last,” the teacher sighed. “Oliver pushed Sophie. She fell and hurt herself.”
**A World of Broken Pieces**
“Mum, it wasn’t my fault!” Oliver blurted. “She started it! You said never hurt girls, but she stuck her tongue out, called me names, scratched me! So I—”
“Dad, I didn’t do anything,” Sophie muttered, tensing as if to shove Oliver but stopping short.
“Enough, Sophie,” the man said sternly.
“Oliver, apologise to Sophie,” Anna urged.
“And you, Sophie, do the same,” the man added.
The children stood, fists half-clenched. The teacher sighed:
“Parents, perhaps you can handle this?”
“Of course,” Anna and Thomas said in unison, sharing a glance before laughing unexpectedly.
“Thomas Whitmore. Sophie’s father.”
“Anna Clarke. Oliver’s mum.”
“Sorry, Sophie,” Oliver muttered, scowling at his shoes.
“Me too,” Sophie mumbled, nudging his sleeve.
“Well done!” the parents chorused, laughing again. The children cracked smiles.
“This calls for celebration,” Thomas declared. “Pizza?”
“Mum, can we?” Oliver begged.
Sophie nodded gravely:
“We really are sorry. Right, Oliver?”
“We believe you,” Anna said, catching Thomas’s eye. “Clearly just a misunderstanding.”
Over pizza, the children chattered like old friends. Oliver even vowed:
“If anyone bothers you, tell me. I’ll sort them out.”
The parents exchanged glances, saying nothing. A spark had flickered between them. From then on, they met often—cinema trips, park walks, evenings at home. The children noticed first, thrilled beyond measure.
Time passed. Thomas and Anna, laughing, would reminisce about that first meeting, grateful for the squabble that brought them together. Every cloud has a silver lining. Anna soon carried another child. Oliver and Sophie had already chosen their brother’s name—Theodore.
**When Fate Comes Knocking**
30th April
15.1K reads
8 minTheodore’s laughter soon filled their home, stitching together the once-broken pieces of their lives into something whole and new.
