Its become my own, now it feels like theirs, I muttered, trying to keep my voice steady.
Does that mean Emily gets nothing?
Victoria stared at me, eyebrows raised. I shrugged, my face flat as if we were talking about something obvious.
Emilys a girl, Victoria. Shell be coming to my house. She doesnt need a place of her own. The boys, on the other hand, need to start families, get married. Im obliged to help them, I said.
I glanced at our daughter. Emily froze at the dining table where the whole family had just finished supper. Her lips tightened into a thin line, her skin went pale, almost translucent. Her hands rested motionless on her knees. I could see her trying to keep a brave face, but the tension in her shoulders told me every word Id spoken hit her like a hammer.
She rose slowly, slipped her bag off the back of the chair, gave a brief nod, and said, Thanks for dinner. Im off. She turned and walked to the door, which shut behind her almost silently. I watched her go, unable to form a single word. Inside, the room seemed to contract with pain and bewilderment. What had just happened? Why had I acted that way?
Ive already made up my mind, I continued, as if Emilys departure hadnt even registered. Ive put the threebedroom house on the market. When it sells, Ill split the proceeds evenly between Max and Ethan. As for Emily, shell have to find a welloff husband. She still has her whole life ahead of her.
Max and Ethan, who had been sitting opposite us, nodded approvingly. Max even cracked a smile at me.
Youre right, Dad. Well need our own places soon enough, Max said.
Im with you, Ethan added. Times are tight; we cant expect help from mum and dad forever.
The boys rose, thanked us for the meal, and left for their own flatsMax with his wife in a modest onebedroom, Ethan renting a studio.
I stayed at the table, staring at the empty chairs, while Victoria sat frozen, unable to move. The silence in the flat pressed down on us. I started clearing the dishes, whistling a tuneless little phrase. Victoria watched me, eyes widening.
Dont you consider Emily your daughter? she asked, voice cracking.
What does that have to do with anything? I replied, turning around.
Victoria stood, her voice suddenly a shout. Because you adopted her! I adopted Max! We had Ethan! Does that give you the right to erase Emily from the picture? Shes your daughter, Andrew! Yours!
Im not erasing her, I said, placing the plates in the sink and facing her. Im just looking after those who need the house more. The boys have to marry, set up families. Emily will find a husband and move in with him. You have to understand, Victoria. Its sensible.
Sensible? she snapped. Did you see the look on her face? Do you even realise what youve just told her? Shes called you Dad for years! She loves you, shares everything with you! And you treat her like this!
Ive done nothing wrong, I cut in. Its my premarriage property, and I can dispose of it as I wish. Whats the problem?
The problem is youve hurt Emily! Youve crossed her, Andrew. Dont you get that?
I waved a hand. Emily will get over it. Shell calm down and see the truth. Shes a smart girl; shell work out whats what.
Victoria fell silent. The words lodged in her throat, and she realised there was no point arguing. I had made up my mind, and no amount of pleading could move me. Yes, she couldnt stop me from selling the house that had been ours before the wedding. Wed spent the whole marriage living in that flat too; it was still technically premarriage. Id been renting my own place, the rent funding the family. Now she simply couldnt explain my behaviour.
She turned and slipped into the bedroom, lying flat on the bed and staring at the ceiling. Tears ran down her temples, but she didnt wipe them away. Inside she felt a blaze of anger for our daughter and a helplessness at being unable to change anything.
Almost a month passed. Max and Ethan kept dropping by, showing me printed listings from estate websites, discussing neighborhoods, square footage, proximity to the tube. I nodded approvingly, offering advice on what to look for. Emily never called, never wrote, never showed up. I tried to phone her a few times; she gave curt replies busy, all good, well talk later and never called back.
See? Shes forgotten us, I remarked one evening. Shes just walked out.
Victoria bit her tongue, not daring to say more. It was I who had pushed her away, made her feel like an outsider. She wanted to say it, but the words wouldnt come. And what would be the point? I wasnt going to hear it.
The house finally sold. Victoria had held onto a sliver of hope that I might change my mind and give at least part of the money to Emily, but nothing came of it. It all went to the boys. Max and Ethan celebrated, making plans for the future, while Victoria stared at their happy faces, bewildered at how easily one could betray someone you love.
Two weeks before my birthday, I invited the family over. Victoria set the table, called the boys and Maxs wife. Emily arrived last, a small parcel in her hands. She greeted everyone, handed me the present, and said, Here you go.
I unwrapped it to find a plain shaving kit no sentimental touch, just a generic gift for someone I barely knew.
Emily took a seat but barely touched the food. She answered my questions with monosyllables, her jaw clenched, her fork trembling. The pain was evident in every movement.
Emily, you didnt even wish me a proper happy birthday. Why are you so quiet? I asked.
She set her cup down, stared at me with a cold, detached look, and said, Happy birthday, Andrew.
Victoria froze. Emily had always called me Dad since the day I adopted her. Now she used my first name and patronymic.
I, too, was taken aback, my cup hanging midway to my mouth. Max and Ethan exchanged glances but said nothing.
I wish you many more years, Emily continued, her voice devoid of warmth. May you be happy with your sons. May everything go well for you.
She gathered her bag, gave Victoria a brief nod, and headed for the door. Victoria leapt up, chased after her, and caught up at the hallway.
Emily, wait!
She turned, tears spilling down her cheeks, her hand frantically wiping them away.
Mum, its not about the flat. Ill buy my own, sort myself out. I earn a decent wage. I just thought he loved me, that he saw me as his own child. But no. His own sons mean more to him. Im just a spare part now. Ive learned my lesson. I wont pretend nothing happened.
Victoria tried to hug her, but Emily stepped back.
I have to go. See you later, Mum.
Emily slipped out, leaving Victoria alone in the entryway, the house falling apart around her. The man shed called father had betrayed her daughter, the man shed trusted with her life.
I opened my mouth to speak, but Victoria raised a hand.
Enough. The talk is over.
She turned and fled to the bedroom, lay face down on the pillow, and finally let herself cry. The tears poured hot and unrestrained; for the first time in years she allowed herself to simply grieve for the daughter shed lost to his callousness.
A week later, Victoria barely spoke to me. Inside, a plan was forming, clear and firm.
Im selling the flat, she told me.
I choked on my tea.
What? Why?
Ill buy a onebedroom, and give the rest of the money to Emily. Because I want to.
Youve lost your mind, I snapped, setting my cup down. We still have space in the threebedroom, and soon the grandkids will be coming! How will we fit everyone in a onebedroom?
Ive decided. You have no say in it. I kept quiet while you sold your own house!
I spent the next few days drinking, trying to persuade her, but she stood firm.
The flat sold quickly. Victoria found a nice onebedroom in the same neighbourhood, completed all the paperwork, and sent the remaining cash to Emily before driving to her daughters place.
Emily opened the door, froze, then broke down, throwing herself onto Victorias shoulders.
Mum, why? Youre going to live in a onebedroom now!
Victoria held her close, stroking her hair, kissing the top of her head. Tears streamed down both their faces, but these were tears of relief.
Maybe to Andrew Ive become a stranger, she whispered, but to you youll always be my little princess, my only daughter. Ill love you until my last breath. Always, understand?
They stood hugging, sobbing, Victorias hand soothing Emilys back.
Emily never reconciled with me. She stopped visiting, stopped calling, only kept in touch with Victoria, who now drove to see her herself. At least Victoria now knew her daughter hadnt been abandoned. She had prevented her from being hurt any further.
