Page 181 of The Stolen Moments Trilogy

“I’ve known since you were three,” Dad tells me. “I found out much the same way you did, actually. You’d fallen through a glass table we used to have, and you were bleeding so badly that you ended up needing a blood transfusion. I wanted to donate my blood, but I was unable to. I was distraught, initially. But in the end, I realized it didn’t matter. You were my daughter, regardless of whose blood runs through your veins.”

I can’t imagine what might have gone through Dad’s mind the day he found out. He must’ve been so worried for me, and to then find out something this shocking on top of it. If I’m feeling betrayed, how must Dad have felt? Was I a reminder of my mother’s betrayal every time he saw me?

“Why did you… why didn’t you send me to Mom? When she left, why didn’t you tell her to take me too?”

Dad frowns as though the mere idea is ridiculous, and he cups my cheek. “Baby girl, you’re my kiddo, my little girl. Your mom… she was never meant to become a mother. She and I probably never even should have gotten married. I’m not sure how much you even remember of her, but your mother has always been a very unique person. She’s always been very carefree and impulsive, and our marriage was yet another thing she rushed into thoughtlessly. As she does with most things in her life, she ended up getting bored with me, with having a family. I guess the rush and the excitement wore off pretty quickly. I don’t even know who your biological father is. I’ve wondered for years, but I truly don’t know. It’s the one thing she’d never tell me. I thought she might at some point throw it at me during an argument, but she’s remained quiet about who it is. Truthfully, I had no idea she wasn’t faithful to me until the day I found out you weren’t biologically mine.”

Dad sighs and strokes my hair. The way he looks at me makes me feel like a child all over again. “Like I said, baby girl, it doesn’t matter. You’re my daughter, my princess. You always will be, Emilia. I understand if this changes things for you, though. I shouldn’t have kept this from you. I guess part of me was scared of how you’d react once you found out. I was scared that you might leave, that you might want to find your real father. But that is no excuse, Emilia. I’m so sorry for keeping this from you. I had no right.”

I inhale shakily, another tear dropping down my cheek, and I shake my head. “Dad,” I whisper. There’s so much I want to say, but all that comes out of my lips are pained sobs.

I hug him tightly and try my best to calm myself down, to regulate my breathing, so I can say what I need to. “I love you, Dad. This doesn’t change a thing. You’ll always be my dad.”

He tightens his grip on me, as though he’s scared I’ll slip away if he lets me go, and I rub my cheek on his shoulder, soaking his robe with my tears. I couldn’t care less about who my biological father might be. I have no interest in ever finding out. My Dad is enough. He’s never once made me feel like I’m not his real daughter, and that’s all I could ever want.

I can’t imagine what he’s been through in the last couple of years. I can’t believe how lucky I am to have gotten him as my Dad.

Chapter 52

Emilia

I park my dad’s old car in front of our house and sit back. I couldn’t even bring myself to take Carter’s red sports car, the car I’ve come to love so much. He and I haven’t spoken in days, even though he keeps trying to explain himself. Nothing he can ever say will make me feel better. It’s hard enough to deal with the knowledge that my dad isn’t my biological dad. I don’t have the mental energy to deal with his betrayal. I can’t believe he actively tried to keep this from me. If all he’d done was keep his silence, I might’ve understood. But this? I just don’t get it.

I stare at my old house, a thousand memories flashing through my mind. All of my best memories were made here. I don’t even remember much from before Dad and I moved here. I have some vague memories of my mom, but not many. I know I look a lot like her, and I remember she used to take me on unplanned trips and excursions. At the time it was exciting, and I adored her, but in hindsight it just proves what Dad told me, that she was impulsive, and maybe even reckless.

I think back to my childhood and all the times I blamed my dad for not being there, for working too much. I wonder how hard things were for him. I wonder how hard it must have been to deal with my mother’s betrayal. If I was three when he found out, so that means he ended up forgiving her and staying, because she didn’t leave until I was seven. I can’t imagine what it must have been like for my dad, to have his heart broken like that, twice. I wish I could go back in time and treat him better, show him a little more gratefulness. I’ve never lacked for anything growing up. Dad was never very affectionate when I was younger, and his recent playfulness has only really developed in the months since he got his diagnosis, but I always knew he loved me. He was always there for every big occasion, even if he was absentminded or, at times, clueless about what was going on in my life. How hard must it have been for him to have a teenage daughter?

I sigh and get out of the car. I hesitate as I walk to the garden and bite down on my lip. I glance up at the treehouse longingly. I still remember seeing it from my bedroom window on the day we moved into this house. I did then what I’m about to do now. I trespassed.

I’m not as stealthy as I used to be when I was younger, but I still manage to walk up to the treehouse without setting off any of the automatic motion detector lights in the Clarkes garden. The stair steps creak underneath me, the sound familiar and nostalgic. Even after all these years, this is where I go when I’m upset. I walk in, my eyes roaming over the interior. Everything is mostly unchanged, but it’s definitely received an upgrade, because there are now light switches, and a small heater in the corner that definitely didn’t used to be there. I didn’t even notice any of this the last time I was here with Carter, because he was all I could see.

My heart aches as my mind fills with memories of Carter. I still remember being wrapped in his arms, right here, the temperature as low as it is now. I told him this place needed electricity, and specifically, a heater. He told me he’d get it put in for me someday, and I can’t help but wonder if it’s here now because he kept his promise, even though he wasn’t sure if I’d ever return.

I turn the heater on and sit down in the window seat, my eyes on the starry sky. I inhale deeply as my vision begins to blur, and tears start to run down my face. I draw up my knees and drop my head on top of it, relishing in the solitude the treehouse provides me with. I’ve had to be so strong around Dad, because the moment I seem sad, he gets worried. But I’m so tired. So tired of everything. I’m tired of hurting, tired of the pain. I feel terrible for dad too, for everything he’s been through with my mom, for the way I used to lash out at him as a teenager, and for everything he’s going through today. When I came here, I was so certain that him getting better was only a matter of time, only a matter of him finally accepting a kidney donation from me. But now? What are we supposed to do now? I need to call the clinic to discuss our options, and I hate myself for procrastinating, all because I know I’d have to speak to Layla.

I sniff and try my best to stop crying, but I can’t. I’m startled when I feel someone touch my shoulder, and I look up in surprise to find Kate standing next to me, a bottle of wine and two plastic cups in her hands.

She sits down on the floor and pours two glasses of wine wordlessly. She hands me one, her expression blank, and I take it with trembling hands. I raise the cup to my lips and end up emptying it in one go, drinking it as though it’s a shot. Kate doesn’t say anything, instead she just refills my cup. I empty that too and smile at her bitterly.

“I apologize for trespassing,” I tell her, and she shakes her head, indicating that it doesn’t matter. I laugh. “I guess it’s fine. I bet seeing me cry like this delights your soul.”

Kate looks hurt for a second and then she sighs. She doesn’t say a thing as she tops my cup up again, and I wish she’d speak up. I wish she’d give me a reason to argue with her.

She takes a sip of her wine and stares at her cup. I sigh and drop my head back to my knees, another tear dropping down my cheek. I sniff loudly, my breath labored. I can’t even breathe properly, because it feels like I’m still crying, even though I’ve tried my best to stop.

“My dad isn’t my real dad,” I say, unable to keep the words in. I glance at Kate and grin. “I bet that just makes your day. I don’t have parents. Not real ones, anyway. My dad, the man that raised me, and the one that’ll always be my Dad, isn’t my biological father. And my mother, the woman that actually gave birth to me, well… she was never a mother to me.”

“I’m sorry, Milly,” she says, her eyes flashing with sympathy, and I hate it. I don’t want sympathy from her.

I laugh, the sound hollow, yet slightly hysterical. “Man, this must be amazing for you. I bet you’re loving every second of this. It gets better, though. You know how I found out? Layla told me.”

Kate’s eyes widen, and for a second I’m certain I see hatred flash through them. “That bitch,” she murmurs, and it startles me so much that I laugh.

“Is she allowed to date Carter, or is he off-limits to her too? I could never tell if you just had a brother-complex, or if your problem was with me specifically. Maybe a bit of both. He’ll probably go back to dating Layla soon enough, so you won’t have to worry about me.”

I empty my cup and hold it out for Kate. She frowns as she refills it for me and then refills her own cup. I sit there, staring at her, hatred and heartache clouding my vision.

“He’s going to die. I’m not a match for him, so I can’t donate my kidney. Your biggest wish is about to come true, Kate. I’m about to end up all alone, with no family, no real friends, nothing. You took the love of my life from me, and now you get to watch me lose everything I have left.”

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