28October2025
Dear Diary,
Divorce is, unfortunately, a common occurrence these days. When I, Paul Whitaker, married Laura, I truly believed it would be the one that lasted forever. She seemed to embody every quality of femininity and charm I could ever desire. We even had a son, Oliver, who I adored beyond reason. Before he arrived, I never imagined I could love anyone more than my wife, yet love has a way of surprising you.
Our happiness was shortlived. When Oliver turned three and started at his local nursery, Laura returned to work. It was there she met the man who would later unravel my life. She fell deeply in loveperhaps not in the same way I loved her, but love nonetheless. She never betrayed me physically; one day she simply told me she was leaving for someone else.
Paul, please understandI have been faithful to you, and I truly hoped this feeling would pass. It hasnt, and Simon loves me so much. Im sorry, she said. I had no retort. There was little point in pleading; she had made her decision. It seemed kinder not to argue, especially for Olivers sake. We divorced, and I was left to sort through the aftermath on my own.
Laura tried to reassure me that I would find someone who appreciates my worth, someone who could love me properly. I was too scarred to entertain that thoughtonce bitten, twice shy. Oliver grew, and I saw him often. Laura and I managed an amicable arrangement: she never pursued child support, merely saying, If you can, give what you can. I understood her guilt; she felt responsible for how things had turned out.
Being a single father is expensive. Between school fees, extracurricular clubs, and the rising cost of food, I sent whatever I could each month. It was through Oliver that I learned Laura was pregnant with Simons child. I felt a mix of bitterness, envy, and an odd, reluctant relief that she seemed to be moving forward.
When the babya girlwas born, Simon abandoned them, chasing another woman and leaving both Laura and the child behind. They were never married, a red flag that Laura chose to ignore in her infatuation. I stepped in, paying what I could for the childs needs, though the father contributed little. When I collected Oliver, I could also look after Lauras daughter for an hour, drive her to appointments, or stay with them when Laura had to be away urgently.
We never intended a romance, and Laura felt it would be unfair to me. Yet we kept a friendly bond for Olivers sake. Then tragedy struck: when ElsieLauras daughterturned two and Oliver started school, Laura was killed by a drunk driver at a bus stop. The car spun out, ploughed into a crowd, and three people died, including Laura. She never even reached the hospital.
The news shattered me. Despite everything, I still felt a lingering affection for Laura; she was no longer just an exwife, but someone who had once been dear to me. Grief gave way to dutyI had to arrange her funeral and comfort Oliver.
During the arrangements, I discovered Simon had no intention of taking Elsie. When we met before the service, he brushed her off.
This isnt my problem. I have another family; Ill find her a good home, he said, waving off my pleas.
He mentioned Lauras sister, but she lived in a dilapidated cottage in a remote village, battling alcoholism and already caring for three children. She was certainly not a suitable guardian.
When I collected Olivers belongings, little Elsie stood by, watching. A neighbour took her in temporarily, yet she too refused legal guardianship, saying, Im almost fifty, my own children are grown. Why should I look after a strangers child?
I lay awake that night, haunted by the thought that Elsieno blood relation to memight end up in a care home. If a cruel family adopted her, what future would she have? She was too small to defend herself.
The next morning Oliver asked, Dad, will Uncle Simon look after Elsie?
No, son. He wont, I answered, choosing honesty over false comfort.
He pressed, Will she go to a children’s home? Will they read her bedtime stories? Can we visit?
His innocence made me smile. He genuinely loved his halfsister, and I could not let that bond be broken. I asked, What if Elsie lived with us?
Really? But youre not her father, he replied.
We could try.
After navigating the social services, I secured custody of Elsie. When I finally took her from the neighbour, she ran to me and clung tightly, as if she had known me longer than any father ever could. The moment Oliver saw his sister, his face lit up; though he was too young to grasp that his mother was gone, the smile eased his grief.
Months later Elsie began calling me Dad, and I never corrected her. I had taken on the responsibilities of a parent, so in my heart I was exactly that. Simons occasional, meagre contributions were irrelevant; I could manage on my own. Elsie quickly found a place in the local nursery, fitting right into our small family.
She grew to resemble Laura: gentle eyes, a quiet smile. Oliver and I loved each other fiercely, and my affection for Elsie deepened each day. Outsiders would never guess she was not my biological daughter; sometimes I even thought I could see a bit of myself in her.
When Elsie turned six, I finally met someone who changed my outlook on love. I had sworn never to marry again, never to let anyone in, yet there she was. My new partner embraced both Oliver and Elsie as her own. Over time Elsie began calling her Mum, filling a void she never truly knew existed. Oliver treated his stepmother with the utmost respect, and I asked for nothing more from my son.
I have never lied to either child. Elsie knows I am not her birth father, yet she accepts me as such. As she matured, she understood the magnitude of what I had done: after a tragedy, I not only rescued my son but also a complete stranger, raising her as my own.
One evening, after she finished school and was preparing for university, she came to me.
Thank you, Dad, she said softly.
For what, love? I smiled.
For not abandoning me, for giving me a happy childhood, for keeping me with my brother, for becoming a real father and bringing Mum into my life.
Tears welled up, but I managed a smile.
Youre welcome, Elsie, and thank you for coming into my life. I finally have a daughter I truly love.
