I froze, clutching the little girl to my chest as her words echoed in my head: *”Mommy said you’re my new mommy, and that man is my daddy.”*
What in the world was happening? My heart was racing, and I could barely breathe. Then I heard a sound behind me—a familiar throat-clearing.
I turned around and there was Paul, looking as pale as a ghost.
“What’s going on here?” he stammered, glancing from me to the girl.
Before I could answer, the little girl pointed at him and said, “That’s Daddy!”
Paul’s face contorted in shock. “No! What—no, I’m not—”
“Paul, what is she talking about?” I asked, my voice shaking.
He opened his mouth but no words came out. His eyes darted around, as if searching for an escape route.
The little girl tugged on my sleeve. “Mommy said he’s Daddy,” she repeated, her voice as matter-of-fact as if she were announcing the sky was blue.
Finally, Paul managed to stammer, “I-I don’t know what’s happening. This is insane!”
Just then, security arrived. They asked for a description of the woman who had left the child with me. I described her as best as I could, but Paul looked even more panicked.
One of the guards asked, “Do either of you know this child?”
Before I could deny it, the little girl chimed in again, “That’s my new mommy and daddy. Mommy said so!”
I glanced at Paul, whose face was now a strange mix of fear and guilt.
Then it hit me like a lightning bolt. The timelines, the weird way Paul always avoided conversations about kids, his strange excuses for late nights…
“Paul,” I said slowly, trying to steady my voice, “do you *know* this child?”
He hesitated for a moment too long.
“Paul!” I snapped.
Finally, he blurted, “Fine! Okay! Yes, I think I know her.”
My stomach dropped.
“She’s… she’s my daughter,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.
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My head was spinning. “What?! You told me you didn’t want kids. That you’d never even considered it!”
He looked at the ground, unable to meet my eyes. “It was a mistake, okay? A one-night thing. I didn’t even know about her until a few months ago, and I… I didn’t know how to tell you.”
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The weight of his words hit me like a ton of bricks. I looked down at the little girl, who was now resting her head on my shoulder, completely oblivious to the storm swirling around her.
“Her mom just left her here with me!” I said, my voice rising. “What kind of person does that?”
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Paul ran his hands through his hair. “I don’t know! She’s… unstable. She’s been threatening to disappear and leave me with the kid, but I didn’t think she’d actually do it!”
The security guards exchanged looks. “We’ll have to contact social services,” one of them said.
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“No!” the little girl cried, clutching me tighter. “Mommy said you’re my new mommy!”
I stood there, torn between anger, betrayal, and an overwhelming sense of responsibility for this innocent child.
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“Paul,” I said firmly, “you need to figure this out. Now.”
He nodded, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “I will. I promise.”
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But as I looked into the little girl’s wide, tearful eyes, I realized something: my relationship with Paul might not survive this, but I couldn’t turn my back on her.
“Okay,” I said softly, stroking her hair. “For now, we’ll figure this out together.”
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Paul looked relieved, but I wasn’t doing this for him. I was doing it for her.
And as we left the store that day, I knew my life had just changed forever.