**Diary Entry**
The moment I caught my husband with my best friend, I left without a wordpacked my bags and moved to another city, keeping my pregnancy a secret. But fate had other plans. Five years later, we crossed paths again.
“Are you absolutely certain?” Emily clutched the phone tightly, forcing her voice to stay calm.
“Emily, the results are positive. You’re roughly six weeks along,” the doctor confirmed.
I thanked her and hung up. The world around me blurred. Six weeks. Exactly how long it had been since that evening I came home early and saw a familiar handbag in the hallwayone Id gifted to Claire for her birthday.
Sinking into a chair by the window, I watched snowflakes blanket London, erasing every trace of footsteps. If only memories could disappear so easily.
My phone rang again. James. The third time in an hour.
“Emily, where are you? We were supposed to meet after work.”
“Sorry, something came up,” I said, keeping my tone even. “Dont wait for me.”
“Is everything alright? You sound off.”
“Just tired,” I lied.
I hung up and stared at the suitcase Id packed that morning. Five years of marriage, ending right then and there. And a new life growing inside me.
**Five Years Later**
“Mummy, look how pretty!” Four-year-old Sophie pressed her nose against the toy shop window, admiring a doll in an elaborate dress.
“Very pretty,” I smiled, adjusting her woolly hat. “But were running late.”
“Where are we going?” She reluctantly took my hand.
“To visit Aunt Margaret. Shes expecting us.”
London greeted us with a frosty January morning. Five years since Id left this city, five years building a new life far from the past. Now, duty called me backAunt Margaret, the only family whod stood by me, was in hospital.
“Sophie, hold my hand,” I said firmly as we entered the gleaming lobby of a new business centre. We needed to cut through to reach the bus stop on the other side.
Marble floors reflected chandelier light, and celebratory music filled the airlikely an opening ceremony.
“Emily?”
My breath caught. A voice I hadnt heard in five years but would recognise anywhere. Slowly, I turned.
“James.”
He looked almost the samethe same sharp grey eyes, the same hint of silver at his temples. Only the lines around his eyes had deepened.
“I never expected to see you here,” he said, staring at me as if I were a ghost. “You came back?”
“Just passing through,” I said, feeling Sophie press against my leg. “Not for long.”
His gaze dropped to her, and his face changedrecognition flashing in his widened pupils. Sophie was his mirror image: the same eyes, the same curve of her smile, even the dimple in her cheek when she grinned.
“And this is?”
“My daughter,” I said quickly. “Sophie.”
A heavy silence settled between us.
“There you are!” A tall, elegant woman with chestnut hair approached. “Everyones looking for you. Oh, hello,” she said, eyeing me curiously.
“Victoria, this is Emily an old friend,” James said slowly, still staring at Sophie. “Emily, this is Victoria, my wife.”
“Lovely to meet you,” I forced a smile. “We should go.”
“Wait,” James stepped forward. “How can I reach you?”
“You cant,” I said, turning away and leading Sophie out.
In the taxi, Sophie nestled against me. “Mummy, who was that man?”
“Just someone I knew a long time ago, sweetheart.”
Aunt Margarets flat was just as cosy as I rememberedthe same place Id fled to five years ago with a single suitcase and a broken heart.
“You havent changed a bit,” Aunt Margaret smiled, smoothing Sophies hair. “But this little ones grown so much through photos alone. How are you, really?”
“Im fine,” I helped her into her armchair. “The doctor said its nothing seriousjust rest and medication.”
“Thats not what I meant,” she studied me. “Hows your heart?”
I looked away. “Aunt Margaret, thats all in the past.”
“Have you seen him?”
“Already did. At the new business centre. Of all the places.”
“Fate,” she sighed. “He looked for you, you know.”
“What?” I stiffened.
“Came by a month after you left. Then again and again. I told him I didnt know where you were.”
“Thank you,” I squeezed her hand. “That was the right thing.”
“And his mother called just last year. Evelyn always treated you like a daughter.”
I exhaled. My mother-in-law had been kind. Did she know what happened between James and Claire?
“Sophie looks just like him,” Aunt Margaret murmured, watching her play. “Does he suspect?”
“I think so. But it changes nothing.”
The next morning, my phone rangan unknown number.
“Emily? Its Evelyn.”
My chest tightened.
“Good morning,” I stepped onto the balcony so as not to wake Sophie.
“James told me he saw you yesterday. I may I come over? We need to talk.”
An hour later, we sat at the kitchen table. Sophie still slept.
“Is she really Jamess?” Evelyn asked outright.
I nodded.
“Why didnt you tell him?” Her voice held no accusation, only pain. “You deprived him of a daughter, us of a grandchild.”
“He deprived himself,” I said quietly. “When he brought my best friend into our home.”
Evelyn lowered her eyes. “I know. He told me everything after you disappeared. He was beside himself. But Emily it was one mistake.”
“One that changed everything.”
“He only married Victoria two years ago. Spent years searching for you. Then he met her. Shes a good woman, but they cant have children.”
A lump rose in my throat. “Im sorry, but that isnt my problem.”
“What about Sophie? Doesnt she deserve a father?”
Just then, a sleepy voice piped up.
“Mummy, Im awake.”
Evelyn froze, staring at her granddaughter with wide eyes.
**A Week Later**
The train pulled away from the station. Sophie waved excitedly from the window. “Bye, Daddy! See you soon!”
James smiled, tears in his eyes. In just four days, hed fallen utterly in love with herand shed accepted him without hesitation.
“Emily,” he approached the window. “Thank you.”
“Dont thank me. I did what I shouldve done five years ago.”
“You did what you thought was right. I understand that now.”
As the train carried us toward our life in York, I leaned back and closed my eyes. For the first time in years, I felt at peace. Sometimes, you have to go back to move forward. Sometimes, forgiveness isnt for the person youre forgivingits for yourself.
And sometimes, the bitterest truths are the only path to real happiness.
