Emily no longer feels resentment, only bewilderment.
It all began the moment little Emily first heard the word “divorce.” Of course, she didnt fully understand its meaning then, but something deep inside told her it was bad. Her family had always been threeher, Mum, and Dad. It had seemed like nothing could shatter their small world of happiness and harmony.
Life had been peaceful and steady. Every morning started the sameEmily waking to her mothers gentle voice calling her for breakfast while Dad brewed coffee and watched the news. Evenings were spent together, watching films or playing board games. Those nights became the brightest memories of her childhood.
Then, one evening, Mum sat at the kitchen table, nervously twisting a napkin in her hands. Dad walked in soon after, his face dark. The air between them shifted instantly, thick with tension.
“We need to talk,” he said gravely.
Emily crouched in the corner of the room, her small heart pounding. She watched as her parents exchanged tense glances, Mum nodding silently, shoulders slumped in resignation.
Hours of arguing and crying followed. Emily buried herself under her duvet, hands pressed to her ears, but every word still reached her. The worst was Mums desperate, broken sobs.
The next morning, Dad packed his things and left. Emily stood frozen, watching him go, tears burning behind her eyes. Alone with Mum, she knew her world had shattered for good.
The days that followed were unbearable. Emily replayed every happy memory, each one now laced with pain. She kept asking herselfwhy had Dad left? Hed always said he loved her. What had changed?
Growing up, shed adored himher hero, protector, and friend. His voice, his smile, his hugs had been her safe place. Theyd walked together, played, read bedtime stories.
But the worst blow came later. When Emily was ten, Dad appeared at the door one evening, looking tired and uneasy.
“You need to know the truth,” he said quietly. “Im not your real father.”
The words hit like a bomb. The world dimmed, sounds faded, her chest tightening like a knife had plunged straight through. For the first time, she felt utterly betrayed.
Time passed, but the wound never healed. Emily distracted herself with school, friends, sportsbut holidays were agony, listening to others talk of family gatherings while she sat silent, aching inside.
Dad remarried a woman with a daughter around Emilys age. Their life seemed perfecta big house, nice things, expensive gifts. Everything Emily had once dreamed of.
One moment stood out. Dad invited her to his stepdaughters birthday party. Walking there, Emily hesitated. Did she even belong in this life shed been cut from? The girls name was Charlotte.
At the door, a tall woman let her in. The flat smelled of cake and laughter, kids running everywhere. Among them stood Charlotteslim, wearing a pretty blue dress.
Their eyes met. Silence. Then Charlotte stepped forward, polite but distant.
“Hi, Im Charlotte.”
Emily flushed. “I know,” she murmured.
Awkwardness settled between them. When Charlotte asked about a gift, Emily handed over a hastily bought set of pencils. Charlotte barely glanced at them before setting them aside.
“Thanks,” she said flatly.
Humiliation burned through Emily. She had hoped for warmth, not this cold dismissal.
Watching Dad laugh with Charlotte, telling the same stories he once told her, Emily felt her heart crack. *This is why he chose her.*
Leaving, Dad mumbled, “Maybe we can meet another time?”
Emily shook her head.
At home, she criedhating herself for it, but the pain was too much. That party ended any hope of fixing things. Dad belonged to Charlotte now.
Years later, Emily has her own familya husband, kids. Mum found someone new who loves them all. Only Dad is missing, still devoted to Charlotte, spoiling her children, buying her a house.
Emily feels no anger now, only confusion. How could he walk away from a child he once claimed to love?
