15March
Emilys new room is finally set up. I told her, There you go, love, this is yours now. Make yourself at home. She shuffled in, eyes scanning the bed draped in a ridiculous, fluffy duvet, the sleek desk with her laptop perched on it, the mirrored wardrobe and a rectangular rug with a geometric pattern right beside it. Everything is tidy, stylish and pricey nothing like the cramped space she grew up in.
I hauled two large suitcases full of her things into the hallway and placed them by the wardrobe. Youll sort it out yourself? I asked, halfjoking. Of course shed manage. I wasnt expecting her to ask me for help, nor for Claire to intervene.
Claire arrived with a tall, narrowleafed plant, set it on the windowsill and said, Thought itd look lovely here. She gave Emily a bright smile that didnt quite reach her eyes. Emily stood silent, a little glum.
Come on, Simon, Claire said, nudging my brother to the door. Emily rested a hand on my shoulder and guided him out. Settle in, she whispered as she gently shut the door behind us.
Settle in, I heard Emily repeat in her head, a bitter echo. The room felt cold, the duvet strange against her skin. She collapsed onto the bed, turned her back to the wall, curled into a ball, knees to chest, and shut her eyes.
In her mind she was shouting, Mum, why? We were always together. Why did you leave? Why didnt you go to the hospital right away? Why did you let things get this bad? For ten years Emily had been a proper mums girl. After my divorce she barely saw me. She still clings to memories of evenings spent with mum, the cosy television glow, mums fresh baked scones and steaming tea. Now shes forced to live with people who arent hers. I rarely call her by name; daughter sounds too formal, and even the word dad feels foreign to her.
Emily imagined that rich men after a divorce always married glamorous models, not someone like Claireshort, practical, with a short haircut and a legal consultancy of her own. Claire seemed clever, businesslike, not at all like mums warm kitchen always scented with roast or pies. More often she ordered takeaway in.
She thought, Maybe Claire was the one who picked out this room? Probably, not me. She does have decent taste. Emily brushed the long, soft fleece of the duvetsomething shed never known before.
At her new school Emily quickly made friends, largely because of my money and her striking looks. The girls decided it was easier to be pals than rivals. Before, her closest confidante was mum; now she enjoys the new crowd, feels understood, and even relishes attention from the boys, a secret thrill.
Initially she felt like a halforphan, forced to stay with a stepmum she didnt love. She played that part and kept up the image. She didnt hear a classmate whisper to the lads, Why is she moaning about her stepmum? My mums friend works for her and says shes a decent aunt.
When Emily first came home late, I told her, I know you want to spend time with friends, so I didnt call. But please dont stay out so late again, okay? She said nothing and retreated to her room.
The next night, when she and her mates planned a hangout, she turned off her phone. I was waiting at home, my face set. If this happens again, Ill have to act, I warned. Emily shot me a cold stare, marched into her room, and found Claire already sitting on the bed. Claire rose instantly at the sight of Emily.
I wanted to talk, Claire said.
Emily stayed silent, her eyes saying, What now? Claire faltered, losing some of her resolve.
Emily, hes worried about you, Claire added.
Im almost sixteen! Emily snapped.
She began arriving home on time, not to upset me, but because she had a plan for her sixteenth birthdaya party with friends. Her older brothers mate had offered a flat for the celebration. She was dating a boy she liked and imagined a quiet evening together.
Then Claire announced, Emily, Ive booked a table for tomorrow. Lets celebrate your birthday at the restaurant. If you want, you can invite your friends.
What? With you? I was planning a night out with my mates! Emily protested.
You could have told me earlier, Claire replied.
I dont know, Emily muttered. Maybe tomorrow.
So on your birthday then. If you prefer a house party, we can host it at ours and Ill sort the food. The thought of a forced family celebration made Emilys stomach drop. Maxs flat, where the drinks were already arranged, seemed inevitable. She left for school, muttering, Ill think of something.
Later that evening, the hallway lights blazed. I stormed into Emilys room, fury burning. What do you think youre doing? I demanded, noticing the smell of alcohol and cigarette smoke.
Dont you dare I raised my hand, about to strike.
Simon! Claire called from behind. She stepped forward, eyes wide with tears, mascara smudged. She gently pushed me back, took Emilys shoulders, and led her to the bedroom.
Tell me straight, has anyone hurt you? Did something happen? Claire whispered.
Emily shook her head. No, its fine.
Claire turned to me, Ill talk to you later. Bring her a drink.
When Claire returned, Emily was already asleep, still in her nightclothes. The scent of alcohol lingered.
The next morning I entered Emilys room. She was awake, eyes open, staring at the ceiling.
Howre you feeling? Head still hurting? Claire asked, pulling the curtains aside and handing Emily a glass of water.
Emily gulped it down. Why did you look out for me yesterday?
Claire shrugged. I was sixteen once, too. Happy birthday, by the way.
Emily stayed silent. Do you hate me? she finally asked.
Your dad left because of you, Claire snapped.
You know that isnt true. We met a year after he left, Emily replied.
Exactly! What if hed come back? Claire sighed.
It isnt that simple, Emily. People often cant patch things up after a split, Claire said. Your mum was wonderful, you know that. Adults have problems that sometimes end the relationship. No one is entirely innocent.
And I? What am I to blame for? He didnt care about me! Emily shouted.
Its not true. He tried to provide for you, kept tabs on your life, Claire replied gently. He just thought youd be better off with mum.
I hadnt told Emily that her mother had asked my ex to stay out of her life when we remarried, fearing Id monopolise her affection. Claire had feared my presence would take the spotlight away from her. My first fight with her had been enough to make me give up.
Claire placed her hand on Emilys shoulder. He loves you, but youre growing up.
Emilys eyes widened when she asked, If the boy I was seeing showed up at my birthday with another girl and dumped me, is he the only one to blame?
Claire thought for a moment. He said I was overly dramatic.
At that moment Emily craved a hug, a return to the innocence of a little girl who could rely on someone else to solve everything. Claire seemed to understand, pulling the tearstreaked girl close.
Emily, I cant replace your mum, but Id like to be a friend, Claire whispered. I fell in love at sixteen too, only to discover he was seeing someone else. We both walked away.
They laughed, the tension easing, and decided to spend the day together, spending a bit of my money on a little shopping spree.
Later, the car lurched. A screech of brakes, a sudden jolt, then a softer thump as something struck the side. Everything fell silent.
Dad! Dad, were in the hospital! Emily shouted.
Half an hour later I spotted my silhouette at the end of the ward corridor and waved.
Emily! I rushed to her, checking her for cuts and bruises. Are you alright? Any pain? I asked, my voice shaking.
Nothing, Dad, Im fine, she whispered.
Wheres Claire? I demanded.
In the other bay. The impact was on her side. Some bloke just cut us off. Shes alive. I held Emily tight, feeling my own hands tremble.
Im sorry for yesterday, she murmured, pressing her head against my shoulder.
I stroked her back, Lets put it behind us, shall we?
A doctor entered. Mr. Thomas?
Yes, I answered, still holding her.
Whats her condition?
Minor bruises and shock. The airbag did its job. Shell be fine. The child is unharmed.
I stared at the doctor, You can see Im not worried about her injuries, but the child I trailed off, realizing the joke of my own words.
I squeezed Emily again. You know what? Soon therell be a new sibling in the house.
I wrote this entry to remind myself that family isnt just blood or titles; its the willingness to step in, listen, and forgive. Even when the road is jagged, love can smooth the edges if we choose to keep walking together. The lesson: never let pride keep you from being the parent your child truly needs.
