28May2025 London
Ive finally taken a breath and put pen to paper, hoping the act of writing will untangle the knot that has been tightening around my heart these past months.
Two weeks after the funeral, Victormy husband of ten yearslooked me straight in the eye and said, I think Alice should stay with us. The words landed heavy, as if he were weighing a decision that had already been made decades ago. Since Emmas departure, the little girl had been living under our roof, the temporary guardianship we arranged just before Emma left for the States. The arrangement was set to end in a month, and Ive been teetering on the edge of a decision ever since.
Victors firm tone sparked a flame in me I could not douse.
Is it because shes your daughter? I blurted, the words escaping before I could filter them. Admit it! I cant keep swallowing this any longer.
What are you swallowing, Jane? Victor asked, bewildered.
Our story goes back to infancy. Emma and I were born in the same maternity ward in Manchester, our mothers sharing a room before we grew up on neighboring streets, playing in the same park. We attended the same nursery, the same primary school, and later the same university, studying literature together. We were alike in appearance and temperament, though Emma was a touch more headstrong while I was, as my mother used to say, far too kindhearted.
Our friendship was almost seamlessno quarrels, no secretsjust a steady stream of support. My mother would sigh, Its a blessing to have such a friend; shell be like a sister to you. Emmas mother would nod, A friendship like that is worth protecting.
When Claire arrived at university, we didnt roll out the red carpet for her immediately. She lingered, trailing behind us like a determined shadow, and eventually the three of us became inseparable. Still, Emma sometimes felt resentful when Claires presence meant we saw each other less often.
Our trio fractured when I got married and moved to Birmingham, but when Claire returned a few years later, we patched things up. Emma married next, at twentyfive, to a promising civil engineer named Andrew, four years my senior. Victor and I had always wanted children; there were no medical warnings, yet nothing ever materialised.
Three years into our marriage, Emma announced she was pregnant. She refused to name the father, though I suspected it was Daniel, a man shed been dating for a year before he vanished after a bitter argument.
Ill manage on my own, Emma declared proudly. My mother didnt live to see my grandchildren, but I have enough money for the baby and a nanny.
Of course, Emma, I replied, genuinely thrilled for her. Well help you however we can.
Claire rolled her eyes, insisting a child needed a father and that the responsibility was enormous. Only with your husband would you need to give birth, she snorted.
Emma and I exchanged amused glancesClaire could be a touch nagging, but that was just her.
When the little Alice arrived, I became her godmother. She would often visit our flat, and Victor delighted in playing with her, his gentle nature making the house feel warm again. For a while, we forgot our own longing for a child.
Six years later, Emma met the man of her dreamsSimon. He was intelligent, handsome, kind, and attentive. Yet, fate seemed to conspire against them.
Its not meant to be, Emma sighed.
Why not? I asked, curiosity piqued.
Maybe hes married, Claire suggested, smirking. Or perhaps his mother is a hawkeyed matriarch.
Its not that, Emma defended. Simon was divorced long ago; they barely speak now. His mother, Edith, is wonderful.
So whats the problem? I pressed.
Hes about to be posted abroad for a crucial project, Emma explained, a shadow crossing her face. Its vital for his career.
Claire scoffed, Well, thats it thenlost fiancé!
I glared at her, feeling the sting of her sarcasm. Doesnt he want you to come with him? I asked Emma.
Victor wants us to take Alice with us, but they cant. Shes due to start school, and she doesnt speak any language yet. It would be a disaster.
Claire jabbed, Youd trade your own child for a man?
No, Emma whispered, exhausted.
The next day I sat down with Victor, my voice steady but urgent. We cant let Emma lose this chance. Alice feels like family to us.
Victor grinned, Got it, love. Im all for it. Is Emma on board?
Im not sure yet, I admitted, then added, Youre still the best husband in the world, before leaning into him.
Emma hesitated at first, then agreed, promising to send money. Dont bother me with it, she said, waving me off.
Our goodbyes were tearful, but we kept in touch daily through video calls. Alice quickly adapted to life with her godmother, knowing her mother would return soon.
One evening, Claire dropped by, bottle of wine in hand, lamenting yet another boyfriend who refused to commit. She slurred, You treat her like a pawn, helping her, and she just laughs at you.
What are you on about? I asked, genuinely puzzled.
Emma, dear. Shes cunning, that one, Claire swore, her words growing louder. Alice is Emmas child, after all. Victor doesnt mind her staying with uswhy would he want a strangers kid in his house?
I stared at her, disgust rising. Did you have a few too many glasses, or are you just spouting nonsense?
Claire stood, pride in her posture, Ill go now, but the truth remainsVictors fine with it.
Victor entered the kitchen, gently tucking Alice into bed, unaware of the heated exchange. He shrugged later, Some people just need to drink less. Honestly, Claire has always been the third wheelenvy and shortsighted.
It was the first time Victor had spoken openly about Claire, and I believed him, though a tiny seed of doubt sprouted. I recalled the many evenings Victor spent with Emma without me, his smile widening as he cared for Alice.
Emma noticed the change in my demeanor, but I tried to mask it. There was no concrete proof of betrayalonly Claires accusations, which I dismissed as spiteful.
I began watching Alice more closely. She shared Victors eyes, her laugh echoed his, she held a spoon the way he did, and she loved chocolate with nuts just as he did. The resemblance was uncanny, and the thought gnawed at me, turning suspicion into a quiet obsession.
Our arguments with Victor grew petty; he didnt understand why I was on edge. He even suggested I see a doctor. We went three days without speaking.
Then the worst news arrived. Emma and Simon were involved in a car crash on the M5. Simon suffered severe injuries; Emma died instantly. The cost of funerals, repatriating Simons body, and the emotional toll drained us. In those dark days, I lost even my lingering doubts, focusing solely on grief.
Six months later, Victor repeated his earlier declaration, I think Alice should stay with us, two weeks after the funeral. The temporary guardianship was about to expire, and the decision loomed once more.
His tone again provoked me. Is it because shes your daughter? I shouted, my voice cracking. Admit it! I cant keep bearing this!
What are you bearing, Jane? Victor asked, bewildered. Did you really believe that that awful Claire? I thought you were a sensible woman, not caught up in such nonsense!
I never we never had anything with Emma, and it could never have happened! I snapped, anger flashing.
Youll have to prove it, Victor said, his jaw tightening. Ill consent to a DNA test.
The results confirmed what I feared most: Victor was not Alices father. Shame washed over me, a cold tide that never truly receded. I never hurled those accusations at Emma; I could not. Now, I must live with the knowledge Ill spend the rest of my days forgiving her memory.
Alice remains with us. My friendship with Claire has ended; I told her everything I felt in a blunt, final outburst. Victor pretends nothing happened, as if the past were a closed book. It seems pointless to revisit old wounds, especially now that Im finally expecting.
Writing this down feels like sealing a chapter, yet the pages are still turning. I hope tomorrow brings clearer skies.
