My mother, Margaret, asked me to take a paternity test, and I agreed, though I had never doubted that Blythe was my daughter.
My name is Victor, thirtyseven years old. Even though I had achieved everything I ever wanted, there was one thing missinga family of my own. I have been living in a modest twobedroom flat in London with my mother ever since my father passed away six years ago. I didnt want to disappoint Margaret, to fall short of the future she imagined for me. So I earned a respectable degree, secured a steady job, and fulfilled the expectations she set. She waited eagerly for the day I would announce I had found a partner, so she could begin doting on grandchildren.
Eventually I met a young woman named Pippa, who had come from a tiny village in Kent and was still a university student at the time. Her family was not wealthy, but that mattered little to me. Margaret, however, frowned at my choice, insisting Pippa was unsuitable. For the first time I followed my own heart, and we began to date. After a few months I brought her home and told my mother we were moving in together and that she was carrying my child. Margaret saw this as a betrayal, convinced Pippa had somehow tricked her into staying in the city.
Despite my mothers objections, Pippa moved into our flat, and Margaret grudgingly welcomed her. At first Margaret was cold, but slowly she grew more tolerant. Pippa proved to be a remarkable housekeeper, and the tension seemed to lift, though Margaret still lingered in the shadows, waiting for a quarrel to erupt.
Soon enough Blythe was born, a little girl with a laugh that echoed like wind chimes in a misty garden. Margaret demanded a paternity test; I obliged, even though I had never doubted that Blythe was mine. The results confirmed my fatherhood, yet Margaret still refused to accept Pippa as part of our family. She even suggested I should separate from Pippa and hand Blythe over to her.
I felt my anger swell like storm clouds and decided to leave my mothers house, taking Pippa and Blythe with me. Since then I keep only the faintest contact with Margaret, convinced she is selfish and indifferent to my feelings. Its a shame she could not welcome Pippa as a member of our family, but I will not bend to her will.
