Shell live in the cupboard, my wife had said about the child. But she had no idea how things would turn out.
You have a daughter. Shes seven.
Those words, crackling through the phone receiver, struck me like a bolt from the blue. My fingers nearly lost their grip, my heart hammered so violently I thought it might burst from my chest. That voiceI hadnt heard it in eight years. Eight long, silent years. And now, suddenly, time seemed to collapse, as if only a moment had passed since Id last heard her breath, her laughter, her whisper.
Tanya? Is is that you? I choked out, glancing around as if someone might overhear, as if the mere fact of her call was a secret Id buried under layers of ordinary, orderly routine.
Yes, Kirill. I need to meet you. Now. Her voice was quiet but firm, carrying the weight of a verdict rather than a plea.
But what do you mean? What daughter? What are you talking about? My chest tightened, thoughts scattering like startled birds in a cage.
Meet me at the café on High Street. One hour. Ill explain everything. And thena click. Silence. Just the hum of the dead line and the hollow ache in my ears, my ribs, my skull.
I stood in the middle of the office, surrounded by colleagues chatter, ringing phones, the clatter of keyboards, yet utterly removed from it all. A daughter? Mine? With Tanya? Impossible. Wed ended things eight years agoabruptly, painfully, like a thread snapped against its will. Id gone back to my wife, to my son, to the life Id convinced myself was right. And nowthis.
Mechanically, I dialled home, my voice unsteady as I told my wife Id be working late. Emma, as usual, muttered something about dinner, about how everything falls on me, how youve no idea how hard this is. I nodded into the phone, though she couldnt see me, and murmured, I know. Im sorry. But in that moment, I wasnt thinking of her. I was thinking of Tanya. Of those three months when the world had felt different. When the air smelled like freedom, when laughter came easily, when love didnt demand sacrifice or justification. Tanya had been light as a breeze, warm as sunlight. Shed never asked for money, never staged a scene, never manipulated. Shed simply loved. And Id chosen duty instead.
Thomas, my son, was probably glued to his computer, lost in some virtual world where he could be strong, victoriouswhere he didnt have to wonder why his father had grown distant, why home felt so cold. Fifteenalmost a man, yet still searching for something to lean on. And Id long since stopped being that for him.
An hour later, I stood outside the café on High Street. My hands trembled, my palms slick with sweat. Inside, by the window, sat a woman. I recognized her instantly, though she was unrecognizable. Thin, her face hollowed, dark circles beneath her eyes. A scarf draped neatly over her head, but it couldnt hide the fragility, the shadow of death already hovering near.
Hello, Kirill, she said softly, barely above a whisper, yet it held more meaning than a hundred shouted words.
Hello, I managed. Youre ill?
She nodded. Dry-eyed, but her gaze was bottomless exhaustion.
Cancer. Stage four. The doctors say two, maybe three months. No more.
I sank into the chair opposite her. My throat closed, breathing suddenly an effort. I wanted to say somethingIll help, well find treatmentbut the words wouldnt come. I just stared at this woman Id once loved and knew: she was dying. And she had something I needed to hear.
Thats not why I called, she continued. I have a daughter. Katie. Shes seven. Shes yours, Kirill.
I froze. Time stopped.
Mine? Butwe were careful!
Sometimes things happen, she murmured. I found out a month after you left. Youd already gone back to Emma. You had a son. You made your choice.
Why didnt you tell me?! The words tore out of me. Why keep her a secret?
What good would it have done? No bitterness in her voice, just fatigue. You chose. You said it was over. I didnt want to ruin your life. I raised Katie alone. Loved her. But now I cant be there for her. If you dont claim her, shell go into care.
I covered my face with my hands. My mind reeled. I remembered that yearEmma screaming, threatening, If you leave, youll never see Thomas again! My son crying, clutching my hand. Me, broken, turning back. Calling Tanya, saying, Its over. No explanations. No goodbyes.
Show me her, I whispered.
Tanya pulled out her phone. On the screena little girl. Blonde hair in pigtails. Grey eyesmy eyes. The same shape, the same depth, the same spark.
God I exhaled. Shes shes my mirror.
Yes, Tanya nodded. And your temper. Stubborn. But kind. So kind. Loves to draw. Wants to be an artist.
Where is she now?
At home. With a neighbour. I couldnt leave her alone.
I want to see her. Now.
Wait, Tanya said. Prepare yourself. Prepare your family. This wont be easy. Its forever.
That evening, I gathered everyone in the living room. Emma sat stone-faced, like a statue. Thomas, as usual, was glued to his phone. I took a deep breath.
I have a daughter. With another woman. Shes seven. I just found out. Her names Katie. And shes mine.
Silence. Thick, suffocating. Thenthe explosion.
What?! You cheated on me?! Emma shrieked, jumping up from the sofa. All these years, you hid a child?!
It was eight years ago! I tried to explain. We were practically separated! I left, then came back
We were never separated! she spat. You ran off to your little fling! And now youre bringing her child here?!
Dont you dare talk about her like that! I snapped. Tanyas dying! That little girl has no one!
And thats my problem?! Emma yelled. Im supposed to welcome some other womans mistake into my home?!
Thomas looked up, his face twisted with disgust.
Dad, why do we need her? Things are bad enough already. Why add another burden?
Shes your sister, I said quietly.
Shes nothing to me! he spat. Some random kid! I dont want her here!
I looked at themmy wife, my sonand for the first time, I understood: this wasnt a family. It was ruins. People I lived with but didnt live for. Hearts long turned to stone.
Im taking Katie, I said, voice steady, final. With your blessing or without it.
Then choose, Emma hissed. Us or her.
Are you serious? I stared at her.
Completely. Your family or your bastard.
Dont call her that! I roared. Shes a child! Shes my daughter!
In my house, Ill call her what I like!
Its my house too, I said. But not for much longer.
A week later, Tanya was moved to hospice. I went to collect Katie. The little girl stood in the hallway, clutching a worn-out suitcase. Thin, pale, with huge eyes full of fearbut no tears. She looked at me like I was her lifeline.
Hello, she whispered. Are are you my dad?
Yes, sweetheart, I said, crouching to her level. Im your dad. Ive come to take you home.
Mummy said you would, she murmured. Is she is she going to get better?
I hesitated. How do you say it to a child?
Katie Mummys very sick. She might not get better. Shes going away.
Katie nodded slowly. Eyes brimming, but she didnt cry. Like shed known. Like shed braced herself.
I packed my things, she said. Not much. Mummy said youd buy me new ones.
I will, I promised, hugging her. Whatever you want. Whatever you like.
At home, Emma met us in the hallway like a prison guard.
So this is your little mistake? she sneered.
Emma, for Gods sake, not
