“Scott?” I gasped in confusion. “What’s going on?”
He looked at me before his eyes darted around as if thinking of an excuse, and finally whispered, “Everly, this is Ella,” he gulped, and my world spun as he continued. “She is my orphaned niece. My stepsister, Maya, is gone now. I found out about her just a few weeks ago.”
I arranged myself on the bed, dumbfounded. “A few weeks ago?” I repeated, frowning, as I struggled to understand how the baby had appeared in our room on our wedding night.
“Everly, I was scared you’d leave if you knew about her,” Scott confessed, not meeting my eyes.
“How could you do this, Scott? How can we start our life together with secrets and lies?” I asked, appalled. But I took a deep breath. “Scott, what’s the plan here? Are you… wait, are we going to adopt Ella?”
“I haven’t thought that far, Everly. Right now, I just need to take care of her,” he answered and suggested we postpone the discussion. I agreed because I was too tired to keep talking about it, but I went to sleep with a horrible feeling in my gut.
We returned home to Scott’s vast estate the following day with Ella and settled into a life with her as if something had been decided last night. I felt powerless, but I had no idea how to change that.
As I held Ella one evening, I sought answers about Scott’s past and his stepsister, Maya. “Scott, if you and your family cut ties with your stepsister, why insist on raising her baby?” I wondered.
Scott’s reluctance to answer made me angry.
“But she’s Ella’s mother, right? What else do you know about her?” I pressed, my voice sharper.
“Everly, it’s not about Maya anymore. It’s about Ella. She’s innocent in all this. And she has no one but us,” Scott finally said.
I inquired about Ella’s father, but he cut me off, refusing to say more.
A couple of weeks later, curiosity led me to Scott’s study while he was away at work. I discovered a photograph on his desk that contradicted everything he had told me before. It was a picture of Scott, seemingly happy and close with a pregnant woman, potentially Maya.
When Scott walked into the house later that evening, his smile faded as he noticed my stern expression. “Everly, what’s wrong?” he asked, his voice laced with concern.
I held up the photo, my voice steady but cold. “Explain this, Scott. And I want the truth this time. You told me you and your sister were estranged. But this picture tells me otherwise.”
Scott’s attempt to dismiss the photo only fueled my frustration.
“No more lies, Scott! This photo shows you with a pregnant woman, smiling and happy. How can you claim estrangement?” I yelled.
He sighed and plopped on the sofa. “Okay, you’re right. That’s Maya, Ella’s mother. Although my family cut ties with her, I used to meet her secretly… and help her,” he confessed.
“Why hide it? Why did you lie to me?”
“I was afraid. Afraid you’d leave if you knew the truth. I wanted you to love Ella, to see her as our future…without getting caught up in the complications of her origins,” Scott answered.
“Scott, again, how can we build a life on secrets and half-truths?” I asked, crossing my arms. “I need to trust you, for Ella’s sake, for our sake.”
He nodded, but his mouth dropped at my next suggestion.
“Maybe we should consider putting Ella up for adoption,” I said tentatively.
“Adoption? Everly, that’s unthinkable. Ella is my responsibility,” Scott argued.
“Maybe find a loving foster family for her. Someone could be a better mother than me—”
He cut me off. “Is this your way of testing me? You think I married you just to have a mother for Ella?”
“Yes!”
“You’re being ridiculous!”
The words felt like a slap, like all those stories about husbands gaslighting their wives. But I knew something was wrong, even if he denied it.
Caught in a whirlwind of emotions and unanswered questions, I left the mansion with Ella, seeking solitude at the beach near our home to ponder the future. There, a mysterious woman approached. She curled her lip at me and the baby, asking, “Scott’s daughter?”
“No, she’s his niece. Who are you? How do you know Scott?” I questioned, wrapping my arms more protectively around Ella.
The woman laughed… a cruel sound. “His niece? She’s his spitting image,” she said, smirking before her humor vanished and her eyes turned to mine.
“Run for your life,” she whispered and walked off.
“Wait!” I called out, but she didn’t look back.
I breathed heavily, staring out into the ocean and then looking at Ella. What secrets was she born into? And what danger lurked in the shadows of Scott’s past?
“We need to talk,” I initiated as I walked through the door later.
Scott looked up, pursing his lips. “Everly, I’ve told you everything. There are no more secrets,” he insisted, but his voice didn’t sound so confident.
I couldn’t contain my frustration. “No, Scott. There’s something you’re not telling me. Ella isn’t your niece, is she? She’s your daughter,” I accused.