Divorce is a common tale, but when Paul tied the knot he thought it would be forever. He loved Lily, who seemed the very picture of femininity and charm. They even welcomed a son, Ryan, whom Paul adored beyond reason. Before the baby arrived he never imagined loving anyone more than his wife, yet love can be strange and multiply.
Their happiness, however, was as fragile as a soapbubble. When Ryan turned three and started nursery, Lily returned to work. In that office she met the man who would later unravel Pauls world. She fell deeply, hopelessly, in love. She still cared for Paul, but not with the same fire.
One day she simply said she was leaving for another.
Paul, I have been faithful to you, and I truly hoped this feeling would pass, but it hasnt. Simon loves me, and Im sorry
Paul said nothing. There was no point in pleading; she had made up her mind. Arguing would only add smoke to the fire. She left kindly, insisting they keep a decent relationship for Ryans sake.
They divorced, and Paul was alone. Lily tried to reassure him that another woman would someday cherish his worth, but Paul, singed by the first blaze, swore he would never be burnt again.
Ryan grew, and Paul visited often. He and Lily arranged everything amicably; she didnt even pursue child support, saying, If you can, just send what you can. Guilt perhaps lay behind her tone. Paul, ever responsible, knew how much a small child costclothing, activities, meals that werent cheap. Each month he sent what his pocket allowed.
It was through Ryan that Paul learned Lily was pregnant. The news struck him like a cold windwas it bitterness, envy, pain, or a strange relief that she seemed happy? He could not rejoice, though.
When Lilys daughter with Simon was born, Simon vanished. He drifted to another woman, forgetting both Lily and the child. They had never been married, a red flag Lily ignored in her lovedriven haze. Paul helped. He handed over the modest childsupport, and sometimes, when he fetched Ryan, he could spare an hour to tend to Lilys babydrive her to the doctor, stay while she ran errands, even shelter them when Lily had to dash off for hours. They never planned to reunite; Paul knew things would never be as before, and Lily felt it would be unfair to her exhusband. Still they kept a friendly bond for Ryans benefit.
When the little girl turned two and Ryan started primary school, tragedy struck. A drunken driver smashed into a bus stop, sending the vehicle careening into a crowd. Three people died, Lily among them. She never reached the hospital.
For Paul the news was a jagged blow. He still felt a thread of affection for Lilyno longer love, but a lingering closeness. Grief had no room; he had to organise the funeral and soothe his son.
During the arrangements, Simon, the father of Lilys child, announced he would not take her. They met before the burial, and Simon shrugged, Ive got my own family; the childs not my concern.
Shes my daughter, how can you say that? Paul protested.
Simon waved it off, Shes small; someone else will find a good home. He tossed Lilys sisters name into the mix, Maggie could have her, if she wants. He cared little for the childs fate.
Paul knew Maggiean alcoholic living in a crumbling cottage in a country lane, already caring for three children of her own. He trusted her not with a newborn.
When Paul collected Ryans things, little Ivy stood watching from the doorway. A neighbour had taken her temporarily, but even the neighbour claimed she would not assume guardianship: Im nearly fifty, my own kids are grown. I cant look after a toddler.
That night Paul lay awake. Ivy wasnt his, yet abandoning her to a cold system felt like turning his back on his own flesh and blood. If the afterlife existed, his heart would shatter.
He imagined Ivy in a proper family, not in a grim institution. He feared a cruel guardian would crush the fragile child.
The next morning Ryan asked, Dad, will Uncle Simon take Ivy?
No, son, he cant. Paul never lied; he believed the bitter truth was kinder.
Then what? Ryan pressed. Will she go to an orphanage?
Yes, most likely.
Will they read her bedtime stories? She hates porridgecan they give her something else? And can we visit?
Paul smiled at his sons sincere concern for his sister. If they tore them apart, that pure love would vanish. He thought of the day Ivy might understand the mistake of the past.
What if Ivy lived with us? Paul asked, halfjoking, halfhopeful.
Really? But Im not her father.
We could try.
Navigating every council office, Paul finally secured guardianship of Ivy. When he fetched her from the neighbours flat, she ran to him, clutching his coat, hugging him as if he were the only person who ever knew her. She recognized him better than any father shed ever had.
When Ivy first saw her brother Ryan, she beamed. She was too young to grasp that her mother was gone, but that simplicity eased the wound more than it would have for Ryan.
Months later Ivy began calling Paul Dad. He never corrected her; he was, in practice, her father. Her biological father sent occasional, meagre payments, but Paul needed nothing from him. He found a place for Ivy in a local nursery, slipping into the role of both guardian and parent.
Ivy grew, taking after Lily in looks and spirit. She and Ryan loved each other fiercely, and Paul felt each day he had chosen rightly. He loved Ivy as his own child, and anyone unaware of the tangled past would never suspect she was not his by blood. Sometimes he even thought she mirrored him.
When Ivy turned six, Paul finally met his own love. He had sworn never to marry again, never to let anyone into his life, yet destiny slipped a partner into his path. She welcomed both Ryan and Ivy, and Ivy, after a while, began calling her Mum. She had no memory of Lily, so the new mother filled that space. Ryan treated his stepmother with polite respect, and Paul asked for nothing more from his son.
Paul never lied to Ivy or to Ryan. The girl knew he wasnt her biological dad, yet she accepted him wholly.
Only when Ivy matured did she grasp Pauls daring. He had taken, after tragedy, not only his own son but a strangers child, raising her as his own.
One evening, as Ivy finished school and prepared for university, she approached Paul.
Thank you, Dad, she said.
For what, my sunshine? Paul smiled.
For not abandoning me, for a happy childhood, for keeping me with my brother, for becoming a real father and bringing Mum into my life.
Pauls eyes glistened with tears.
Youre welcome, Ivy. And thank you for coming into my world. Ive finally found a true, loving daughter.
