The chilly Christmas Eve was filled with warmth and holiday cheer, until a knock at the door disturbed the calmness. A young pregnant woman about to give birth, standing on the porch in the freezing cold, uttered the words, “Let your husband explain…”
When I heard the knocking late into the night, I called Mark’s name. “Mark, someone’s at the door.” Absorbed with his PlayStation, he didn’t even turn away from the screen and said, “It has to be a package.”
But I felt the urge to check. When I opened the door, there she stood, a beautiful young woman with a huge belly.
“Who are you? And what are you doing here?” I asked her.
“I need help. Take me to the hospital.”
It was obvious she didn’t have much time before giving birth. “Why are you all alone at this time and this condition,” I asked, now more concerned for her well-being than anything else.
“Let your husband explain,” she said, “he thought he could get rid of me!”
Her words felt like a sharp knife. “What has my husband got to do with this woman?” I wondered, shocked and surprised.
“Get inside,” I said, not knowing if I was doing the right thing by letting her in.
I started calling my husband’s name. “Mark! Come here. You need to see this.”
The moment Mark saw the pregnant woman, he started trembling.
“What… what are you doing here?” he asked, obviously being perfectly aware who she was.
“Somebody explain this to me? Mark, who’s this woman?” I asked in a low voice, trying not to awake my children, who were upstairs, sleeping.
Nervous and running his hands through his hair, Mark turned to me and said, “Claire, I can explain…I…,” but before he could finish, the pregnant woman said, “I’m his daughter. The one he abandoned and never looked back.”
My world started spinning. This couldn’t be right, but Mark’s facial expression said it was.
“Oh, Mark, what have you done?” I asked, doing my best not to cry.
“Claire, this was before we even met,” he said, looking at his feet, ashamed to look me in the eyes.
“Come on, you are running out of time,” I told the pregnant woman. “I gave her a coat, we got inside the car, and I drove to the hospital.”
The silence in the car felt heavy. “I don’t even know your name,” I said.
“I’m Emma,” the woman said. “I’m Claire. Nice to meet you Emma. No matter what happened in the past, I’m not holding grudges against you, nothing of this is your fault.”
Emma thanked me and said, “You are a nice woman Claire. Honestly, when I came to your house, I didn’t know what to expect, but you are so understanding.”
At that moment, all I could think of was to get Emma to the hospital safely.
Once there, she went into labor and I was with her every step of the way. I held her hand, assuring her everything was going to be fine.
Emma gave birth to a baby boy, and my husband was his grandfather.
I went home, relieved that Emma and her baby were fine, but I needed answers.
I told Mark about his daughter and his grandson and told him to make things right.
That evening, I learnt that the hardest truths bring chances for growth, and Emma was someone I was ready to embrace.
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Bored Daddy
Love and Peace
