Page 80 of Second Chances

“You heard it? You were there?” His sole focus had been keeping his tears at bay while talking, and he hadn’t been successful. He had been sobbing by the time he finished his speech.

She nodded. “You said you always wanted a daughter.”

His speech to the newlyweds came back to him: “Josh became everything I imagined he could be…happy, content, and at peace with his life. Effie, you bring out the best in him, it’s true. But from the day he was born, Josh has always brought out the best in me. There were some years when it was tough, just the two of us, and the only way I made it through was because of my son and his belief that I was doing an okay job as his dad. To my son, Josh, and to Effie, the daughter I always wanted, I love you both.” When he finished, he glanced down at Charlotte, with tears sparkling in her sincere brown eyes, smiling promises of her own up at him.

Sophie’s cheeks were damp with her misery. “I thought for a long time that maybe Mom never knew who my father was, but to keep me from a man who loves his son so much…who could have loved me that much, who deserved to know about me? How could she?”

Henry held his arms open to his daughter, and without missing a beat, she stepped into them. “You found me now, and that’s what matters. I’m your dad.” When long-held emotion took over, he released the pain from his heart. He’d never allowed himself to really come to terms with his wife’s desertion, choosing stoicism when Josh was younger and then resignation once his son went off to college. “I’m here, Sophie,” he assured her, whose slim shoulders shook in his embrace. More than anything, he was grateful, focused only on the child in his arms. With Sophie’s head on his shoulder, he soothed a hand on her back, neither of them speaking for an indeterminate length of time, until she sniffled.

As she withdrew slightly to pluck a tissue from her purse, he thought about what he had missed out on and whether another man had taken his place as her father. “Was it just the two of you, then, when you were growing up?”

Sophie tucked a golden curl behind her ear. “And my aunt, Casey.”

“Casey?”

Sophie confirmed, “Yeah, Mom’s sister. She was there when I was born.” Heart twisting again at not being there for the birth of his second child, Henry thought about when Josh was born. He’d been the first to hold him and had sworn that Josh’s cloudy eyes stared straight into his. “The three of us moved around a lot. Mom was always searching for the next big thing.”

“Dad?” Josh’s voice boomed from the doorway. “Oh, there you are. I’ve been looking for you.” Henry moved to shield Sophie from Josh, wanting a chance to wrap his own head around what he had just learned before breaking it gently to him. “What are you doing out here?” The air, thick with emotion, must have set off alarm bells for his son. “Dad, who is this?”

“I can’t…I should go,” Sophie backed away from him, and Henry automatically reached for her, petrified he would never see her again, this new daughter, whose eyes were the exact shade of his son’s—that summery, sky blue, even in the nighttime lighting.

“No, please.” Henry drew her closer to him, his hand on her wrist, tentative but firm. “Please don’t go.” Facing his son, he said, “Josh, I don’t know how to tell you this. I…this is⁠—”

“Let me guess,” Josh broke in, grinning, “she’s my sister.” Neither Henry nor Sophie responded, shocked that Josh had guessed correctly. A burst of laughter from Josh followed. “Dad, seriously, you should see your face. Sorry for the lame joke. Liam and I just did shots, and they must’ve immediately gone to my head. You know how loves his tequila shots. I just hope he understands that I’m not going home with him tonight⁠—”

“Josh!” Henry interjected, regretting having to hit him with the harsh reality of another betrayal by his mother, especially on his wedding day. “Josh, you were right.”

“I was right…right about what?” His eyes darted from Henry to Sophie. “Who are you?” Josh questioned Sophie. “I’ve seen you around town; in fact, weren’t you at the hospital the other day? In the cafeteria?” At Sophie’s nod, he went on, “I thought there was something vaguely familiar about you when I saw you earlier.”

Henry kept his tone even. “This may come as a shock, but you were right, even if you were joking.” He paused, letting Josh’s gaze focus on him. “She’s your sister.”

Josh shook his head, putting a finger in his ear as if to clean it out. “I’m sorry—did you just say she,” he pointed at Sophie, “is my sister?”

“Babe? Hey, the band has about half an hour left if you wanted to-” Effie stopped in her tracks. “What’s…going on here?”

“Well,” Josh responded, “my dad was just telling me how this woman,” again, he pointed to Sophie, “is my sister.”

“I’m sorry. I know I haven’t had that much to drink—did you say she’s your sister?” Effie’s mouth hung open. “I…I…don’t understand.”

Henry rubbed his temples and took a deep breath. “Look, Josh, since it’s late, and it’s your wedding, maybe we don’t need to get into everything tonight.”

“I’m sorry.” When Sophie apologized again for something for which she was blameless, Henry’s heart twisted at the guilt on her face.

Henry shook his head, his tone gentle, “No, you never need to be sorry.”

A complete change from the carefree Josh took place; now, instead, the ever-serious Josh was in command, the version of his son that had resulted from his childhood trauma. “Could someone please help me understand what is going on? Dad?”

“My name is Sophie,” she said, looking up at Josh. Effie wrapped her arms around her husband’s waist, her head on his shoulder, offering silent support, which he was going to need. Henry, thankful for her deep, abiding love for his son, wished Charlotte was beside him, lending him her inner strength as well. “I just found out last year that Henry is my dad.” She drew a shaky breath. “My mom refused to talk about him and would get upset if I ever asked any questions about who my dad was. She would only ever say that he was someone she had loved once, and that the relationship hadn’t worked out. Which, you know, lots of my friends had fathers who were not in their lives, for whatever reason, so I never questioned it. Then last year, some friends and I were taking a trip.” Sophie paused and took a drink from her water bottle. “Anyway, I didn’t have the right suitcase, so I was in my mom’s closet, and I noticed this box tucked away up there, just behind one of those bags that fit under an airplane seat. It drew my attention because I remember one night when I was a teenager, I heard my mom, like, crying in her bedroom. I’d never heard her do that before, so I went to her door, and I saw her with the box on her bed. It was so unlike her that I didn’t want to interrupt her, so I just went back to bed.” Sophie’s blue eyes were huge. “Mom is not emotional—well, she can be high-strung, I guess—but she is definitely not sentimental.” Sophie gave a short laugh. “Sorry, this is really rambling.”

“I don’t believe this,” Josh faced Henry. “Dad, this girl shows up, out of the blue, says you’re her father? You can’t tell me you’re just taking her word for it? She could be anybody!”

“She’s my daughter, Josh. I have no doubt about that.”

“Dad, seriously! This is ridiculous!” The pain on his son’s face was what he had worked so hard to avoid for the past twenty-four years. “There’s no way you have a mystery daughter show up on my wedding day! It’s too unbelievable!” Josh descended the stairs and pointed at Sophie. “How’d you even know how to be here?”

Ashen, she responded, “I…after…after I found the box, there were clippings of you in it, and I looked you up on the internet. I found a link to an article for the newspaper, the Beverley Bugle, where you gave an interview about moving back from New York.” Sophie shrugged her delicate shoulders. “I subscribed to the online edition, then. I saw your engagement announcement last fall.” She crumpled, and Henry gathered her close.

“It’s okay,” he assured her.