Walking in on my husband with my best friend, I silently left for another city without saying a word about the pregnancy. But five years later, we crossed paths again.
“Are you absolutely sure theres no mistake?” Emily tightened her grip on the phone, fighting to keep her voice steady.
“Emily, the results are positive. Congratulations, youre pregnantabout six weeks along.”
She thanked the doctor and hung up. The world around her froze. Six weeks. Exactly how long it had been since that evening shed come home early and spotted a familiar handbag in the hallwaythe one shed bought for Claire as a birthday gift.
Emily sank onto the chair by the window. Outside, snow fell, blanketing Manchester in white, erasing every trace. How she wished she could wipe that night from her memory just as easily.
Her phone rang again. James. The third time in an hour.
“Emily, where are you? We were supposed to meet after work.”
“Sorry, got held up,” she forced her voice to sound normal. “Dont wait for meIve got loads to do.”
“Everything alright? You sound off.”
“Fine, just tired.”
Hanging up, she glanced at the suitcase shed packed that morning. Five years of marriage. Five years ending right now. And a new life beginning inside her.
Five Years Later
“Mummy, look how pretty!” Four-year-old Sophie pressed her nose against the toy shop window, mesmerised by a doll in a frilly dress.
“Gorgeous,” Emily smiled, adjusting Sophies hat. “But were lateAunt Margarets waiting.”
“Where are we going?” Sophie reluctantly pulled away and slipped her hand into Emilys.
“To visit Mummys auntie. Shes expecting us.”
Manchester greeted them with a frosty January morning. Five years since Emily had been back to her hometown, five years building a new life far from the past. Now she had no choiceAunt Margaret, the only family whod stood by her, was in hospital.
“Sophie, slow downdont run,” Emily gripped her daughters hand tighter as they entered the gleaming lobby of a newly opened business centre. They needed to cut through to reach the bus stop on the other side.
Marble floors reflected the chandeliers above. Grand music played; crowds gatheredsome kind of opening ceremony.
“Emily?”
She froze at the voice behind her. A voice she hadnt heard in five years but would recognise anywhere. Slowly, she turned.
“James.”
He looked almost the same. Same sharp grey eyes, same hint of silver at his temples. Only the lines around his eyes were deeper.
“Didnt expect to see you here,” he stared as if she were a ghost. “You moved back?”
“Just visiting,” Emily felt Sophie press against her leg. “Not for long.”
Jamess gaze dropped to the little girl, and she saw his face change. His pupils widened. Sophie was his mirror imagesame eyes, same lips, even the dimple when she smiled.
“And this is?”
“My daughter,” Emily said quickly. “Sophie.”
A heavy silence hung between them.
“There you are!” A tall, elegant woman with auburn hair approached. “Everyones looking for you. Ohhello,” she glanced curiously at Emily.
“Grace, this is Emily an old friend,” James spoke slowly, eyes still fixed on Sophie. “Emily, Gracemy wife.”
“Nice to meet you,” Emily forced a smile. “We should gosorry.”
“Wait,” James stepped forward. “How do I reach you?”
“You dont,” she turned and walked briskly to the exit, Sophies hand in hers.
In the taxi, Sophie nestled close. “Mummy, who was that?”
“Just someone I used to know, love. A long time ago.”
Aunt Margarets flat was just as cosy as it had been five years ago when Emily arrived from London with a small suitcase and a broken heart.
“You havent changed a bit,” Margaret smiled, smoothing Sophies hair. “But this little ladys grown up right under my nosejust through photos. How are you, really?”
“Im fine,” Emily helped her aunt sit. “Dont worrythe doctor said its nothing serious, just rest and meds.”
“Not that,” Margaret studied her. “How are *you*? Is your heart alright?”
Emily looked away. “Aunt Marg, thats all in the past.”
“Youve seen him?”
“Already ran into him. At that new business centre. Million-to-one odds, and there he was on day one.”
“Fate,” Margaret sighed. “He looked for you, you know.”
“What?” Emilys head snapped up.
“Came by a month after you left. Then a few more times. I told him I didnt know where you were.”
“Thank you,” Emily squeezed her hand. “That was the right thing.”
“His mum called last year too. Susan always loved you like a daughter.”
Emily exhaled. Her mother-in-law had been kind. Had she ever known what happened between James and Claire?
“Sophie looks just like him,” Margaret said softly, watching the girl play. “Does he suspect?”
“I think so. But it changes nothing.”
Next morning, an unknown number flashed on Emilys phone.
“Emily? Its Susan.”
Her ex-mother-in-laws voice made her chest tighten.
“Good morning,” she stepped onto the balcony so as not to wake Sophie.
“James said he saw you yesterday. I could I come over? We need to talk.”
An hour later, they sat at the kitchen table. Sophie still slept.
“Shes really his?” Susan asked point-blank.
Emily nodded.
“Why didnt you say anything?” No accusation in Susans voicejust pain. “You kept a father from his child. Kept a grandchild from us.”
“He did *that* himself,” Emily said quietly. “When he brought my best friend into our home.”
Susan looked down. “I know. He told me everything when you disappeared. He was a wreck. But Emily it was one mistake.”
“One that changed *everything*.”
“He only married Grace two years ago. Spent all that time searching for you, hoping youd come back. Then he met Grace. Shes lovely, but they cant have children.”
Emily swallowed hard.
“Im sorry, but thats not my problem.”
“What about Sophie? Doesnt she deserve a father?”
Just then, a sleepy little girl appeared in the doorway.
“Mummy, Im awake.”
Susan went still, staring at her granddaughter with wide eyes.
“How long are you staying?” Paul asked, helping Emily sort through catalog printouts.
Theyd met at the publishing house where she worked in Manchester. When he mentioned needing to visit her hometown too, theyd travelled together.
“A week, maybe two,” she stacked papers. “Once Aunt Margarets better, well head back.”
“Shame,” he grinned. “Seemed like you were settling in here.”
“It was home. But thats the past.”
Her phone buzzed. Unknown number.
“Emily, its James. Dont hang up. Please.”
She stiffened, covering her eyes.
“How did you get this number?”
“Your aunt gave it to me. Im sorry to bother you, but we need to talk. Its important.”
“Nothing left to say.”
“Is Sophie my daughter?”
Emily clutched the phone till her knuckles whitened.
“I deserve the truth,” he said when she didnt answer. “I have a right to know.”
“And *I* had a right to loyalty. To trust. To respect,” her voice shook. “But no one cared about that, did they?”
Silence on the other end.
The café was quiet, nearly empty. Emily chose a corner table, twisting a cold teacup in her hands.
“Thanks for coming,” James sat opposite.
“I dont have long,” she checked her watch. “Sophies with Aunt Margaret.”
“Ill cut to it.” He leaned forward. “I want to be part of her life.”
“Why? Youve got a wife, a life.”
“Grace cant have children,” he met her eyes. “But thats not the point. Sophies my daughter. I *deserve* to know her.”
“And *I* deserved to know what was happening in my own home,” Emily inhaled sharply. “When was the last time you saw Claire?”
“Five years ago. That night.”
“Really? Seemed pretty serious to me.”
James shook his head. “One mistake. Too much champagne at a work do. No feelings, no follow-up. Claire called the next daysaid youd seen everything and vanished.”
“And you comforted *her*?”
“No. I told her Id never forgive her for ruining my marriage. Never spoke again.”
Emily scoffed. “Funny how things change. Now youre all about responsibility.”
“I never stopped loving
