Lucia

Anne

I made Andrew swear to secrecy. After loads of argument, he grudgingly agreed not to tell anyone.

“I don’t want anyone accepting me because of my pregnancy, or having anyone take my baby away from me,” I’d told him during our arguments.

For a whole year, Andrew became the father to my child and husband I never had. He felt it was his responsibility to care for me and my child until I decided to tell everyone.

At first, I thought it was a great burden to him and had tried to dissuade him from coming over more often than not, but he vehemently refused. He didn’t need to tell me why. I simply saw how he was with my baby.

As soon as he arrives, with loads of baby stuff that’ll last us a whole year, he’d only greet everyone, go over to the sink and wash his hands, then spend the whole-time carrying Lucia.

The joy and contentment in his face held no bounds. He would sit on a rocking chair, hold Lucia against his chest, and tell her childhood stories of Vincent and himself. Sometim