Nancy’s life is turned upside down at her husband’s funeral when she encounters an older woman holding a baby. The woman claims the child she is carrying is Nancy’s late husband’s. Is she lying? Or do more shocking revelations await Nancy?
Nancy looked at the final traces of her husband’s funeral service. She couldn’t believe Patrick was gone. He had died in a car accident. It had been a week, but she could still feel him around her. How could he be dead?
With a heavy heart, she headed toward the cemetery’s exit, telling herself she had to start figuring out the rest of her life.
Suddenly, an older woman with a baby blocked her path.
“Are you Nancy?” the woman asked while the baby in her arms cried.
Nancy didn’t recognize her. Who was she?
“I am. Who are you?” Nancy replied.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Shutterstock
Nancy’s heart wasn’t ready when the woman, Amanda, revealed the baby in her arms was Patrick’s child.
“Only you can look after this child now,” she told Nancy. “Her mother can’t provide for her.”
A shiver ran down Nancy’s spine. She stared at the baby and backed away.
“No, it can’t be! Patrick was a loving husband. He would never do this to me!”
Nancy turned around and left. She would never doubt Patrick.
“Watch out!”
Nancy bumped into one of Patrick’s old friends, Mike. She was too lost in her thoughts to notice where she was heading.
Mike started chatting with her, offering his condolences. Nancy didn’t want to talk to anyone, but she had to be courteous. She finished the conversation as soon as she could and headed to her car.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Shutterstock
The baby’s thoughts replayed in her mind, but she dismissed them. However, as Nancy opened her car door, she was shocked. The same baby lay in her back seat, crying.
Nancy looked around. Amanda was nowhere to be seen. “How did this baby even get here?” she wondered.
It was cold, so Nancy removed her jacket and began wrapping it around the little one.
But she froze when she noticed a birthmark on the baby’s neck. “It can’t be,” she muttered to herself.
The birthmark was exactly like Patrick’s. Nancy didn’t want to suspect her late husband of cheating. But now, she needed the truth. She needed to know if Patrick had been unfaithful to her.
Nancy drove home with the baby, took Patrick’s hair strands from his hairbrush, and went to a hospital.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Shutterstock
“Hello, I’d like to get a paternity test done,” she told the receptionist at the counter.
“OK, ma’am. Normally, it takes a few days to get the results,” the woman said.
“Can it be done quicker?” Nancy asked. “I’ll pay extra.”
“Well, we do have expedited service. Let me see what I can do. But it will cost you more.”
“I’ll take it,” Nancy replied. She submitted Patrick’s samples and paid for the test.
Sitting in the hallway, she was awaiting the results when the baby started crying. Nancy sniffed the baby’s clothes. Her diaper didn’t need a change.
Nancy guessed she must have been hungry. There was still time before the results came in, so she drove to a supermarket and bought baby formula, bottles, and a few diapers — just in case she needed them.
She returned to the hallway and sat there, feeding the formula to the baby. After what seemed like an eternity, a nurse approached her with the results.
The woman handed her an envelope and walked away.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash
“This is the truth, and I’ll have to accept it whether I like it or not,” Nancy thought as she opened the results.
Her head seemed to spin when she read the words, “Paternity rate – 99%.”
Nancy looked at the sleeping baby in her arms and swallowed the tears in her eyes. Patrick had cheated on her and kept her in the dark.
Nancy decided she would not live with the proof of his infidelity forever. She would find the baby’s mother and give the baby back to her.
Pulling herself together, Nancy drove home and began going through Patrick’s things. But she didn’t find anything that could point her to his lover. She moved to his office next, searching his drawers, files, and cabinets. But nothing.
Nancy sighed. The baby was asleep in the living room. Grabbing the baby monitor, she headed to Patrick’s car. She searched under the seats, in the glove compartment, and in all the nooks and crannies of the vehicle. But she didn’t find anything significant.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Shutterstock
Nancy sank into the driver’s seat when her eyes landed on the GPS. And it was then it hit her. Patrick was terrible at directions and always used the navigator. If he had ever visited his mistress’ house, that is where she would find her address.
Nancy went straight to recent destinations on the navigator. The list wasn’t long, mostly familiar places: local restaurants, the hardware store, and Patrick’s office. But then, one address caught her eye—it appeared more frequently than others, and she didn’t recognize it.
“This is it,” she thought. She took the baby with her and drove to the address.
***
Arriving there, Nancy found herself in front of a modest house. She scooped the baby in her arms, walked to the front door, and knocked.
“Hello? Anyone home?” she asked.
After the tenth knock, when nobody answered the door, Nancy concluded the house was empty. She looked around and decided to approach the neighbors. She started with the house next door and rang the doorbell.
The door opened with a creak, and Nancy’s eyes widened when Amanda stepped out.
“You?” Nancy asked.
“How…how did you find me?” Amanda stuttered.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Shutterstock
“I was trying to find my husband’s…” Nancy paused. “His other woman. I wanted to return her baby.”
A strange sadness flashed across Amanda’s face. “The woman who lived next door… died a few days ago. She had a heart attack when she learned about your husband’s accident. Emma is no more.”
“Wait…did you say Emma?” Nancy asked, shocked.
“Yes,” Amanda nodded. “Did you know her?”
“Was…Was her last name Warren?”
When Amanda nodded, Nancy hung her head in shame. “Can-Can I come inside?” she asked. “There’s something I’d like to tell you. I feel I could use some talk.”
Amanda opened the door wider for her, and Nancy stepped inside. They settled in the living room. “Emma was my classmate,” Nancy began recounting her past. “She was also my friend. But I wronged her and…Patrick…”
20 years ago…
Nancy and Patrick were in their school’s hallway. She was standing next to her locker when Patrick approached her.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Shutterstock
“Hey, Nancy,” he said quietly, and she looked at him.
“I…I need to tell you something,” Patrick added anxiously.
“Hey,” she smiled. “Yes?”
“I…I’m in love with someone else, Nancy,” he confessed. “I know you’ve been really kind and everything, but I’m sorry.”
Nancy was shocked. “Tell me it’s a joke, Patrick,” she cried. “You can’t be serious!”
But Patrick was serious. Patrick was head over heels in love with Emma, and Emma loved him, too.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Shutterstock
Nancy was so distraught that day that she returned home in tears.
“Sweetie, what’s wrong?” Her mother immediately sensed something had happened at school.
Nancy sobbed as she told her how Patrick had broken up with her.
“I want to break them up!” she yelled. “I won’t let them be together!”
“Nancy, you won’t be able to create your own happiness by destroying someone else’s,” her mother advised her. “Revenge is never an option. Forget about him.”
But Nancy was fueled with the desire for revenge.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Shutterstock
In the next few days, Nancy tried everything she could to drive Patrick and Emma apart—she spread silly rumors, planned coincidental run-ins where she’d flaunt newfound confidence, and even stooped to sending anonymous notes, trying to stir up jealousy.
However, nothing worked. Emma seemed happy, wrapped up in her and Patrick’s world and Nancy was left on the outside, her plans crumbling uselessly around her.
But Nancy wasn’t the one to give up. One night, she had the perfect idea to drive a wedge between Emma and Patrick.
“Hello, Nancy, how are you?” Nancy visited Patrick, and the door was answered by this mother.
“I’m fine, Mrs. White. Is Patrick home?”
“Yes, dear. Let me get him.”
Patrick was confused to see her on his doorstep. “Nancy? What’s going on?”
“I know this will come as a shock to you, Patrick, but…I’m-I’m pregnant!” she announced.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Shutterstock
Patrick was shocked and terrified. “What…but…Are you sure?”
When she nodded, Patrick invited her inside. She told him she hadn’t told her parents yet because she was scared. Nancy said her father would definitely be against it and force her to terminate the pregnancy. So she begged Patrick not to tell anyone about it and noticed how easily he succumbed to her lie.
Patrick was a responsible guy. Nancy knew that. He held her hands and said, “I’m the child’s father, so I’ll take the responsibility for our baby. And yes, don’t worry; this will stay between us.”
Present-day…
“I used him. I lied to him. I wasn’t pregnant,” Nancy told Amanda. “I was hurt, and I couldn’t stand losing him to Emma. So I told him a lie that changed everything. He was ready to step up, leave Emma, and be…a father.”
“Lies ruin everything, dear,” Amanda shook her head. “And what after that? Did he never find out the truth?”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Shutterstock
“He didn’t,” Nancy revealed. “I kept up the act, the morning sickness, the whole thing. But after a couple of months, I…I couldn’t carry on with it. So, I told him there was a mistake with the test and that the doctor was wrong. And by then, Emma had…moved. She was heartbroken and had left town with her parents. Patrick and I stayed together. He never went back to her, never tried to find her. We just moved on. Or pretended to…” Nancy added, looking at the sleeping baby in her arms. Now she knew Patrick had returned to Emma.
“And I guess it’s time to correct what I couldn’t back then,” Nancy said and rose to her feet.
She was leaving Amanda’s house with the baby when the older woman stopped her.
“What are you going to do with the baby?” Amanda asked.
Nancy turned around and smiled at Amanda. “I will raise her as my own child. Maybe that’ll help me seek forgiveness from Patrick and Emma.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Shutterstock
And Nancy followed through on her words. She raised baby Catherine with love. When Catherine turned 16, Nancy told her everything about her past. She was expecting Catherine to hate her. And she was prepared for it.
But Catherine smiled and said, “Nothing changes how I feel about you, Mom. You raised me. You were there for every scraped knee, every fever, every heartbreak. You’re my mom in every way that counts.”
Nancy cried silently and hugged her daughter. Catherine’s words had not only relieved her heart, but they’d also made her believe that Emma and Patrick had forgiven her.
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Man Finds a Baby Boy Wrapped in Blankets in a Basket and Adopts Him—17 Years Later, a Stranger Returns for the Boy
A grieving, lonely fisherman found hope and a reason to live when he discovered a baby boy abandoned on his doorstep. He adopted the boy and raised him with boundless love and pride. But 17 years later, a wealthy stranger arrived, threatening to tear their world apart and take the boy away.
The weathered fishing boat rocked gently against the dock as Lucas secured the last knot. At 54, his calloused hands moved with practiced ease, even as arthritis crept into his joints.
The small house on the village outskirts waited for him, just as it had every evening since Maria passed. No children’s laughter, no warm embrace — just the quiet company of his thoughts and the photos of the woman he’d loved too much to replace.
A man tying a boat | Source: Midjourney
“Evening, Lucas!” Old Tom called from his porch. “Good catch today?”
“Just enough,” Lucas answered, lifting his basket. “The fish aren’t as lonely as we are, eh?”
“You ought to get yourself a dog at least,” Tom suggested, not for the first time. “That cottage needs some life in it.”
Lucas smiled politely but said nothing. Maria had loved dogs. That was reason enough not to get one.
A sad man standing outside his cottage | Source: Midjourney
The flames danced in the fireplace as he settled into his chair, another solitary evening stretching before him. The day’s routine played through his mind: watering the tomatoes at dawn, feeding the chickens, and walking the empty streets to his boat.
He glanced at Maria’s photo on the mantel. “Should’ve listened when you wanted children,” he murmured. “Always said we had time. Now look at me, talking to your picture like you might answer back.”
Suddenly, a sound cut through his thoughts, faint but distinct. It was like a whimper or a cry carried on the winter wind. Lucas lowered his coffee cup and listened. There it was again, more insistent this time.
A man sitting by the fireplace | Source: Midjourney
His joints protested as he rose and shuffled to the door. The porch boards creaked beneath his feet as he peered into the darkness. Another cry, clearer now.
“Hello?” he called, but only silence answered.
His heart nearly stopped when he saw it — a woven basket on his doorstep, blankets stirring inside. As he knelt beside it, tiny fingers reached up, grasping at the cold night air.
“Dear God,” he whispered, gathering the bundle into his arms. A baby boy, no more than a few months old, stared up at him with big, curious eyes.
A baby wrapped in blankets in a basket | Source: Midjourney
“Where did you come from, little one?” Lucas scanned the empty street, but whoever had left this precious cargo was long gone, leaving just a note in the basket:
“Don’t look for me. Please take care of him. And love him like your own. Thanks & Goodbye.”
The baby whimpered, and Lucas felt something stir in his chest. It was an emotion he thought had died with Maria.
“Shh, it’s alright,” he soothed, cradling the child close. “Let’s get you warm. Maria,” he whispered to the night sky, “I think you might’ve had a hand in this. You always said miracles come when we least expect them.”
A man holding a baby | Source: Unsplash
Inside, Lucas wrapped the baby in one of Maria’s old quilts, its faded flowers still soft after all these years. The infant’s cries settled into gentle coos as Lucas warmed some milk on the stove, remembering how old Tom’s daughter used to feed her babies.
“You need a name, little one,” he murmured, testing the milk’s temperature on his wrist. The baby’s tiny fingers wrapped around his weathered thumb, holding on with surprising strength. “You’ve got a good grip there. Like a fisherman.”
The baby gurgled, his eyes fixed on Lucas’s face with what seemed like curiosity. A tear rolled down Lucas’s cheek as he remembered Maria’s words from years ago:“A child’s love is the purest thing in this world.”
A baby covered in a cozy white blanket | Source: Unsplash
“Matias,” he said softly, the name coming to him like a whisper from the past. It was Maria’s father’s name, a good strong name for a boy. “What do you think about that, little one? Would you like to be Matias?”
The baby cooed, a smile breaking across his tiny face. Lucas felt his heart melt completely.
“Then it’s decided. You’ll be my son, Matias. I may not have much, but everything I have is yours. We’ll figure this out together.”
A man holding a baby | Source: Midjourney
That night, Lucas made a makeshift crib from an old wooden crate, lining it with soft blankets. He placed it next to his bed, unable to bear the thought of the child being alone in another room.
As moonlight filtered through the window, he watched Matias’s chest steadily rise and fall.
“I promise you,” he whispered, reaching down to touch the baby’s velvet cheek, “I’ll be the father you deserve.”
The baby slept peacefully, one tiny hand still curled around Lucas’s finger, as if already knowing he was home.
A baby holding a man’s finger | Source: Pexels
Seventeen years passed like leaves on the wind.
The garden grew fuller, nourished by the sound of Matias’s laughter. Every morning, Lucas would wake to find Matias already in the garden, talking to the chickens as he fed them.
“Morning, Dad!” Matias would call out. “Rosa laid two eggs today. She’s your favorite, isn’t she?”
“Just like you’re my favorite son,” Lucas would reply with a wink.
“I’m your only son,” Matias would laugh, the sound warming Lucas’s heart more than any summer sun.
A cheerful teenage boy laughing | Source: Midjourney
One morning, as they worked together in the garden, Matias looked up suddenly. “Dad? Remember when you told me about finding me?”
Lucas’s hands stilled on the tomato vines. “Of course.”
“Were you… were you ever sorry? That someone left me here?”
Lucas pulled his son close, soil-covered hands and all. “Matias, you weren’t left here. You were given to me. The greatest gift I’ve ever received.”
“Even greater than when Mom said yes to marrying you?” Matias asked, his voice muffled against Lucas’s shirt.
“She would have loved you to the moon and back,” Lucas said, his voice rough with emotion. “Sometimes I see her in the way you tend to these plants. She had that same gentle touch.”
A cheerful older man smiling | Source: Midjourney
Each morning, Lucas watched his son devour breakfast before school, marveling at how the abandoned baby had grown into this bright, energetic young man. Matias’s eyes — so mysterious that first night — now sparkled with intelligence and mischief.
“Dad!” he called, bursting through the door after school. “Coach says I might make team captain next season!”
Lucas looked up from his fishing nets, pride warming his weathered face. “That’s my boy. Your mother would have—” He caught himself, as he sometimes did, speaking of Maria as if she were Matias’s birth mother.
A delighted teenage boy at the doorway | Source: Midjourney
“Tell me about her again?” Matias asked softly. “About how she used to garden? How she’d sing while cooking?”
“Another time, son. These nets won’t mend themselves.”
“You always say that,” Matias teased, grabbing an apple from the bowl. “One day you’ll run out of nets to mend, and then you’ll have to tell me everything.”
“Everything, eh?” Lucas chuckled. “Like how you used to think the chickens laid different colored eggs because they ate rainbow seeds?”
Suddenly, the screech of tires outside cut through their comfortable chatter. Through the window, Lucas watched a sleek red Mercedes pull up. It looked completely out of place in their humble neighborhood, like a peacock in a chicken coop.
A red car outside a cottage | Source: Midjourney
A tall man in an expensive suit emerged from the car, his shoes too shiny for their dusty street. He approached with purpose, each step measured and confident.
The knock, when it came, seemed to echo through the house.
“Can I help you?” Lucas asked, opening the door just wide enough.
“Mr. Lucas?” The man’s voice was cultured and careful. “I’m Elijah. We need to talk about the boy. I’m here to take him.”
A rich, suited man at a doorway | Source: Midjourney
The words hit Lucas like a gut punch. He had always lived in constant fear of their peaceful life being shattered. But he never imagined it would happen so quickly.
“Who on earth are you? I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, his fingers tightening on the doorframe until his knuckles went white.
“I think you do.” Elijah’s eyes fixed on a point over Lucas’s shoulder. “Hello, Matias.”
“How do you know my name?” Matias stepped forward, despite Lucas’s protective arm.
“Because you’re my nephew and I’ve been looking for you for 17 years.” Elijah’s voice softened. “May I come in? This isn’t a conversation for doorways.”
A startled teenage boy | Source: Midjourney
Lucas felt his legs go weak, but he stepped aside. In the living room, Matias sat close to him on the worn sofa, their shoulders touching.
“You can’t just come in here,” Lucas said, his voice trembling. “You can’t just walk into our lives after 17 years and—”
“Dad,” Matias touched his arm gently. “Let’s hear him out.”
The story spilled out like water from a broken dam. Elijah spoke of his sister — Matias’s mother — of her struggles, her disappearance, and her deathbed confession just weeks ago.
A shocked senior man | Source: Midjourney
“She was young and scared,” Elijah explained, his perfectly manicured hands clasped in his lap. “Our father wouldn’t have understood. She ran away with you after her boyfriend, your dad, dumped her, hoping you could have a better life than she could provide at that time.”
“So she left me on a doorstep?” Matias’s voice cracked. “Like I was NOTHING?”
“She watched,” Elijah said softly. “She watched Lucas take you in. Watched from afar as you grew. She chose this house because she’d seen Lucas with his wife, before. She knew you’d be loved here. She told us everything when we found her, after 17 exhausting years.”
A man staring at someone | Source: Midjourney
“You have to understand,” Elijah continued, turning to Lucas, “he’s all we have left of her. And there’s so much waiting for him. The best schools, connections, opportunities. A life beyond…” he gestured at their modest surroundings.
“This life,” Lucas interrupted, his voice fierce, “has been filled with more love than any luxurious mansion could hold.”
“Dad, please,” Matias whispered, squeezing his hand.
A distressed older man holding his head | Source: Midjourney
“He’s right though, isn’t he?” Lucas’s voice broke. “You deserve more than fish nets and vegetable gardens. More than an old man’s company.”
“He deserves a better life,” Elijah chimed in.
“I want to go,” Matias said softly after a long silence.
Lucas turned, stung. The words felt like Maria dying all over again.
“Son—”
An emotional teenage boy with his eyes downcast | Source: Midjourney
“Just to know them. To understand.” Matias’s eyes pleaded for understanding. “I’ll come back, Dad. I promise. I need to know where I came from to know where I’m going.”
“Of course you will.” Lucas forced the words past the lump in his throat. “This is your home. It always will be.”
The goodbye was quick, too quick for 17 years of love. Lucas helped pack a bag, his hands shaking as he folded Matias’s favorite blue sweater, the one he’d saved three months of fishing money to buy.
An emotional man holding a blue sweater | Source: Midjourney
“The garden,” Matias said suddenly, pausing at the door. “Don’t let it die while I’m gone. Mom’s roses especially.”
Lucas nodded, not trusting his voice.
“I’ll call every day,” Matias promised, hugging him fiercely. “Every single day. And I’ll be back before you know it.”
Lucas stood in the doorway, watching the red Mercedes disappear, taking his heart with it. The last thing he saw was Matias’s face turned backward, watching him through the rear window, pressing his hand against the glass.
A boy sitting in a car | Source: Midjourney
Days blurred together. And the silence around Lucas grew heavier with each passing week.
Matias’s calls came regularly at first, full of wonder at his new world. Then, less frequently, shorter, until they felt like conversations with a stranger.
The vegetables ripened and died on the vine. Lucas couldn’t bear to pick them up without Matias’s help. Even the chickens seemed to miss him. Rosa wouldn’t lay eggs for days, and the others pecked listlessly at their feed.
“He’s not coming back, is he, girl?” Lucas murmured to Rosa one morning. “Can’t blame him. Who’d choose this hut over the castle they’re offering him?”
A sad older man hugging a chicken | Source: Midjourney
Every night, he’d sit in Matias’s room, looking at the soccer trophies, the school photos, and the little seashell collection they’d gathered together over the years.
“He’s living the life he deserves,” Lucas told Maria’s picture each night. “The life you’d have wanted for our own. But God, I miss him. Miss him like I miss you.”
The house felt bigger somehow. And emptier. The silence was no longer peaceful but oppressive. Lucas found himself talking to the chickens more, just to hear a voice — any voice — in the yard.
A teary-eyed older man sitting in a chair | Source: Midjourney
Then, one evening, a knock came at the door as Lucas sat staring at his untouched dinner. Different from that first time. Softer, uncertain.
He opened the door to find Matias standing there, shoulders slumped and eyes red.
“I couldn’t sleep,” Matias said simply. “The beds are too soft and the house is too big. Everything’s too much and not enough.”
“Son, what are you—”
A heartbroken boy holding his head | Source: Midjourney
“They’re nice, Dad. They’re my blood. But you’re…” Matias’s voice broke. “You’re my FATHER! The only one I’ve ever needed. The only one I’ll ever need. I can’t be without you.”
“The chickens have been clucking your name all day!” Lucas joked, wiping away a tear.
“Just the chickens?” Matias managed a watery smile.
Tears welled in Lucas’s eyes as he looked at his son, his heart overflowing with love and pride. “What about your uncle?”
An emotional older man crying | Source: Midjourney
“Don’t worry, Dad. I’m sure he’ll come for me again. But this time, I’m not leaving you… no matter what.”
Lucas pulled him close, feeling the tears soaking into his shirt. “Welcome home, son! Welcome home.”
As they walked into the house, Matias looked around, his face glowing with nostalgia and relief. He took Lucas’s hand, holding it tightly as if to make up for the weeks they’d been apart. They knew they were all each other needed.
Silhouette of a man with a teenage boy | Source: Midjourney
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
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