I considered her my sister in every way, not just my best friend. We met in 2nd grade. I was shy and bookish. She was brave, witty, and bold. We connected somehow. Emily and Rachel were inseparable throughout.
I stayed with her till she died. I held her hand, combed her hair, and chatted to her when she couldn’t respond. I kept expecting her to wake up, smile mischievously, and remark, “Fooled you!” No, she never did.
I still felt agony six months later. Grief came in waves; some days I could work and joke. Other days, I could scarcely move, as if my body refused to accept her absence.
That afternoon began normally. As I dried dishes in the kitchen, rain gently pattered against the windows. Then the front door opened. Daniel, my spouse, probably did it first.
I froze at the corner.
It was Rachel’s older sister Amanda. She looked exhausted—pale, her hair pushed back like she hadn’t thought about herself. In one hand, she had a little pink rucksack. A huge envelope in the other.
She added, “I need to talk to both of you,” her voice suffused.
A cold rushed through me. “Is Lily okay?” My heart pounded as I asked.
Lily was Rachel’s daughter. 2 years old. The father is absent. Rachel said, “It’s better this way.” but never mentioned him.
Amanda nodded without smiling. “She’s fine. However, this is challenging. About her.”
Daniel, beside me, tensed. “What about her?”
Amanda focused on him. “Your daughter.”
Words hit hard.
I blinked. “What?”
Amanda tightly gripped the packet. I was told by Rachel. The night Lily was born. She claimed you were dad.”
Daniel stiffened. His face blanched. “No. That’s false.”
“She swore me to secrecy,” Amanda said, shivering. She didn’t want your marriage ruined. But she wanted Lily to know her father. If anything happened.”
Daniel retreated, hand on chest. “I can’t…”
Then he slumped in the hallway. Knees giving out, his back slid down the wall. His respiration became uneven, with sharp gasps.
“Daniel!” I sank beside him, holding his shoulders. “Breathe. Look at me. Through your nose, out your mouth.”
Amanda awkwardly clutched the envelope to her chest. “I didn’t anticipate his reaction.”
I ignored her and focused on Daniel. He shook under my palms but calmed progressively. His eyes were closed as he rested against the wall.
I turned to Amanda last. “You can’t just show up and say that!”
Swallowed hard. Emily, I wouldn’t. I can no longer afford Lily’s care because Rachel’s life insurance is delayed. What more could I do?”
My jaw tightened. “You just dropped this bomb on us?”
Amanda looked down. Rachel said it happened once. In your housewarming party. They drank. She wished for calm.”
Daniel woke up hoarse. “That didn’t happen.”
Amanda frowned. Excuse me?
He sat up taller, first glancing at me, then Amanda. “I didn’t sleep with Rachel.”
Then why would she say—
“I woke up and she was on top of me,” he whispered. Didn’t say yes. I couldn’t. I fainted again.”
Silence filled the room. Heavy. Suffocating.
My mind raced as I watched him. He stared at me, ashamed and afraid.
“I didn’t tell you,” he muttered, “because I didn’t think you’d believe me.”
Amanda took a tentative step back. “I need to leave.” On the floor, she placed Lily’s backpack and envelope. “But we must resolve this.”
She went without saying a word, into the downpour.
Sitting, I stared at the pink backpack. Lily’s. The zipper with the rabbit keychain.
I was not lied to. Did he?
After Amanda went, the house felt empty. Daniel waited across from me in the living room awaiting fury, forgiveness, or whatever. Not knowing what to gift him.
So I said, “I need you to leave for a few days.”
His eyes grew. “You want me to leave?”
“Not forever,” I said. “For now. I need space.”
He nodded slowly. “Okay.”
He left that night with a bag.
I poured coffee down the drain the next morning. Lily’s backpack kept catching my eye. I lifted, held, and put it down. Felt heavy. I felt like I was bearing an unwanted burden.
A few days later, old college friend Megan contacted. “I heard what happened,” she whispered.
Did you? I inquired hollowly.
“Enough. Do you want to talk?
She heard practically everything I told her at a coffee shop. She listened uninterrupted. After I finished, she leaned forward.
If it was a fling, Rachel would have told you. Especially last.”
I frowned. “You mean what?”
You were with her, right? Hospital? she inquired.
I nodded.
She had time, Emily. She had room. Wouldn’t she have told you anything this major to make peace before leaving?
A chilling realization hit me. Rachel had time to confess. But she didn’t. She knew I wouldn’t forgive her.
That quiet spoke everything.
Daniel was called that night. Hands shook as I gripped the phone. I trust you. I regret not doing so sooner. Please return.”
His voice whispered. “I’ll be there in 15 minutes.”
We tested DNA that week. Results arrived two weeks later.
Not father.
Amanda doubted it. Took Daniel to court. Another test.
Same result.
Some truth died with Rachel.
Weeks later, Amanda called. Emily, Rachel always envied your marriage. Your life. She wanted yours.”
That stuck.
Daniel and I started treatment. It was hard. Together, we carried the load.
Unexpectedly, I became pregnant.
Little girl is going.
Love prevailed over anything that sought to break us. That truth counts. That healing takes time.
And the future? We own it now. Full of light.