The day I buried Emily, I came home to silence, photos, and memories. While staring at our engagement picture, something slipped from the frame—an old photo of Emily cradling a newborn. My heart froze. We never had children, so who was the baby?
On the back, her handwriting read: “Mama will always love you.” And a number. Confused and shaken, I called it. A woman named Sarah answered—and what she told me changed everything. Emily had a daughter she gave up in college, long before we met.
Sarah had adopted the girl, Lily, now a grown woman and a teacher. Emily kept the secret out of fear and love, but had stayed quietly connected. The next day, I met Lily at a café—and in her eyes, I saw Emily. Her warmth, her kindness, her laugh.
We talked for hours, bridging two worlds Emily had kept apart. That night, I placed Lily’s photo beside our engagement one. “You did good, Em,” I whispered. I had lost a wife—but unknowingly gained a daughter. And this time, I wouldn’t miss a moment.
