Right then, love, this is your new bedroom. Make yourself at home, Simon said, pushing open the door.
Emily took a tentative step inside. The room was a pictureperfect mix of sleek modernity and a touch of overthetop fluff: a double bed draped in an absurdly plush duvet, a desk with a laptop perched on it, a wardrobe with mirrored doors, and a rectangular rug with a bold geometric pattern. Everything was thoughtfully designed, pricey, and nothing like the cramped space shed left behind.
Simon hauled two large suitcases filled with Emilys belongings over to the wardrobe. Youll sort it out yourself, wont you? he asked.
Of course she would. She wasnt about to ask him for help, nor was she expecting Claire, her new stepmum, to step in.
Claire entered, balancing a vase with a longleafed plant that looked like itd been stolen from a chic London office. She set it on the windowsill. Thought it would look smashing here, she said with a bright smile, fixing her gaze on Emily, who stood there, a frown etched across her face.
Lets go, Simon, Claire said, slipping her arm around his shoulder and guiding him toward the front door.
Make yourself at home, Emily whispered, gently closing the door behind them.
Make yourself at home, she repeated in her head, a bitter echo. The room felt cold, the walls too perfect. She flopped onto the bed, turned to face the wall, curled up into a ball, and hugged her knees. Her eyes squeezed shut.
Mom, why? We were always together. Why did you leave me? Why didnt you go straight to the hospital? Why did you? The words tumbled out in a rush of grief.
For ten years Emily had been the quintessential mummys girl. After her mothers death shed barely seen or spoken to her father. Evenings had been spent with her mum, the telly on, the smell of fresh bake and strong tea filling the house. Those memories were now just thatmemoriesbecause she was forced to live with people she barely knew. Simon never even used her name; daughter felt oddly formal, and the word dad was a foreign, clumsy thing on her tongue.
Emily had always imagined that wealthy men after a divorce would marry glamorous models whose looks would somehow suit their daughters. Claire, however, was younger than Simon, short, with a practical bob haircut, and ran a modest legal practice from home. Clever, businesslike, and not at all like her mothers warm, homecooking vibe. The house used to smell of fresh pies and roast dinners; now Claire often ordered takeaway.
Did she arrange this décor? Emily thought. Probably, not Dad. Shes got decent taste, at least.
She brushed her hand over the soft, longpile duvetsomething shed never owned before.
At her new secondary school Emily quickly made friends, mostly because of her fathers wealth and her striking looks. The girls decided it was better to be pals than rivals. Back then shed only hung out with a few classmates and, above all, her mum. Now she loved the new crowd; they understood her and made her feel needed. For the first time, boys started noticing her, and she secretly thrilled at the attention.
At first she truly suffered from the circumstances, and the class treated her as a sortof halforphan, stuck with an unloved dad and a frosty stepmum. Emily liked the role and, over time, she carefully cultivated that image.
She didnt hear a classmate whisper to the boys, Why is she talking so badly about her stepmum? My mums friend works for her and says shes a decent lady. When Emily came home late one night, Simon said, Love, I know you want to spend time with friends, so I didnt call. But please dont stay out so late again. Deal? Emily gave no answer and retreated to her room.
The next time her friends arranged a night out, she switched her phone off. At home, Simons expression promised trouble. If this happens again, Ill have to take action, he warned.
Emily shot him a cold, angry glance and swaggered into her room. Claire was already on the bed, rising instantly when Emily entered. I wanted to talk, Claire said.
Emily stayed silent, the look on her face screaming, What else do you want? Claire faltered, her confidence wobbling.
Emily, he cares about you, Claire said.
Im almost sixteen! Emily snapped.
Nevertheless, Emily started coming home on time, not to upset Simon. She had plans for her sixteenth birthdaya party with friends. Her older brothers friend promised them a flat to use. Shed been seeing a boy she liked and dreamed of a quiet day with him.
Later, Simon announced, Claire booked a table for tomorrow. Lets celebrate your birthday. If you want, you can invite your friends.
What? A restaurant, with you two? I was planning a party with my mates! Emily protested.
And when did you plan to tell us? Simon asked.
I dont know maybe tomorrow, Emily muttered.
So, on your birthday itself. Fine. If you want friends, have them over at our place. Claire will sort the food. The idea made Emilys stomach churn. Everything was already set: Maxs brothers flat, the drinks his friend had supplied, the whole shebang ready to go. Should I announce dads plan? Stay bored in a parents house? Theyll just laugh at me! she thought, dashing off to school.
Shed think of something.
Later, in the hallway, a bright light flickered as an irate Simon loomed over Emily. What do you think youre doing?!
He stepped closer, catching the smell of alcohol and cigarette smoke on her. What do you think youre doing, I ask you! He raised his hand as if to slap her cheek.
Simon! Claires voice cracked from behind.
Emily looked up and saw Claires terrified eyes, mascara smudged from recent tears. Claire gently pushed Simon aside, took Emily by the shoulders, and led her to the bedroom. Quicklydid anyone hurt you? Did anything happen? she whispered.
Emily shook her head. No, its fine.
Ill speak to Simon. How can I help you now?
Bring me a drink.
Claire told her husband, who was pacing anxiously by the door, Shes okay. When Claire returned, Emily, still in her nightclothes, was fast asleep.
Simon, entering the bedroom, sniffed the lingering alcohol. You smelled like youd been drinking, he muttered, as Claire tried to start a conversation about their daughter.
Of course. And remember when you were sixteen? Claire said, smiling.
Yeah, what? Shes just a girl! Simon snapped.
Fine. Think of your peers. Emily isnt stupid, but right now her friends mean more to her than we do. Give her space. Her life changed overnight; maybe thatll help her cope.
Whats she coping with? She has everythingfood, clothes, whatever she asks for!
Simon! Dont play the fool. She lost her mother. All she needs now is love and attention, and shes hunting for it in that crowd. Something happened todaymaybe a fight?
I dont know, Simon sighed. I never imagined itd be this hard.
Claire laughed, hugged him, and kissed his forehead. Dont worry, well manage together.
The next morning Claire knocked on Emilys door. How are you feeling? Head still hurting?
She pulled back the curtains, handed Emily a glass of water. Emily drank greedily.
Why did you look after me yesterday? Claire asked.
Because I was sixteen too, Claire shrugged. Happy birthday, by the way.
Emily stared silently. Do you hate me?
Because of your dad?
Your dad left because of you, Claire said, eyes softening. Thats not true. We met a year after he left.
Exactly! What if he came back?
Claire sighed. Its never that simple, Emily. People often cant reconnect after a split. There are reasonssometimes its not anyones fault. Your mum was wonderful, you know that.
Emily pulled her hand away when Claire reached for it. Adult relationships are messy. Some can fix things, some cant, and sometimes you just have to part ways. No single villain.
What about me? Im not at fault. He didnt care about me!
It isnt true. He tried to make sure you never wanted for anything. He kept tabs on you.
He didnt want to see me!
He wanted to. He just thought youd be better off with mum.
Claire didnt spill the full storyhow Emilys mother had asked her exhusband not to intrude when they remarried, fearing hed steal time from her. Shed feared hed take too much of the childs affection for himself. Simon had walked away after the first big argument.
He loves you, really. Youre just getting older.
Claire placed her hand on Emilys shoulder. This time Emily didnt pull away.
Suppose the boy I was dating showed up at my birthday with someone else and dumped me on the spotdoes that make him the only villain?
Hmm. Think about it. Did he say anything else?
He called me overly dramatic.
See? Youre not crazy.
In that moment Emily suddenly craved a hug, a comforting squeeze, something to dissolve the knot of betrayal from the day before. Claire seemed to sense it, pulling the tearful girl close.
EmilyEmily, I cant replace your mum, but Id love to be a friend. I fell in love at sixteen too; he was a year older, and turned out he was seeing another girl from the next school.
Stupid bloke! What did you do?
We both dumped him.
And what was your fault?
I spent too much time on my studies.
They laughed, the tension lifting like a balloon released. Both felt theyd taken a big step toward each other.
Listen, Claire said, lets both have a day off. You go to school, I go to work, and well spend a bit of your dads money together. Sound good?
Emily forced a tentative smile. All right! I talked to him yesterday. He said we could pick any gift for you. Shall we go?
The two chatted excitedly about shopping and the fun theyd have, oblivious to the sudden jolt as their car lurched, screeched, and then thudded gently against something, a loud, terrifying squeal of brakes echoing before everything fell silent.
Dad! Dad, were in hospital! a voice shouted.
Half an hour later Emily spotted her fathers silhouette at the end of a sterile corridor and waved. Emily! Simon rushed to her, gripping her shoulders, inspecting her from head to toe. He saw bruises on her face and arms.
Does it hurt? Oh my God, Emily, I was terrified he whispered, eyes wide.
Its nothing, Dad, Im fine, she replied, trying to sound casual.
Simon froze, his gaze boring into hers. Wheres Claire? he asked, voice trembling.
In the ward. The impact came from her side. Some fool jumped out of nowhere. Shes alive, Dad! Claire, still in a hospital gown, leaned in, pressing Emily close.
Simons arms tightened around his daughter. Im ashamed of what happened yesterday, he said, his hand shakily stroking her back.
Stop. Lets just forget it, okay? Emily nodded.
A doctor entered. Are you the father?
Yes, Simon replied, stepping back. Whats wrong with her?
Severe bruising and shock. The airbag did its job. Shell be fine. The important thing is the child is unharmed.
The child?, Simon asked, confused. Yes, the child is fine.
The doctor gave a faint smile and left. Simon muttered under his breath, I cant see that my child is unharmed, before pulling Emily into another hug.
Dad, didnt you get the point about the child? he asked, bewildered.
What point? Emily rolled her eyes. That Im going to have a brother or sister soon!
