The Man Who Donated a Kidney to Me Proposed a Month Later, Claiming He Was Terminally Ill and Didn't Want to Pass Alone – But Right After We Said 'I Do,' He Took My Hand and Whispered, 'Now I Can Finally Tell You the Truth'

"Where is she?"

"She knows about the transplant."

"With her grandmother. She stays there during the school week. I have her most weekends and part of every summer. Her mother hasn't been in the picture consistently since the divorce."

"Does she know about me?"

"Yes."

That answer hurt worse.

"So your daughter knew I existed while I didn't know she did."

Nathan rubbed his face. "She knows about the transplant. She knows about us. She refused to meet you."

"Then why hide her?"

"Why?"

"Because she thinks I replaced her."

I laughed, sharp and ugly. "Did you?"

"No."

"Then why hide her?"

"Every time I mentioned you, she got upset. Then the diagnosis happened. I panicked. I kept thinking I'd find the right moment, and every time I waited, telling you got harder."

"You married me to solve a problem with your child?"

"You still married me without telling me."

"I know."

"Why?"

Nathan looked away.

"I thought if we were married, maybe Sophie would understand you weren't temporary."

I stepped back.

"You married me to solve a problem with your child?"

"You used our wedding to force an introduction."

"No. I married you because I love you."

"But you used our wedding to force an introduction."

Nathan didn't answer.

That was enough.

I walked out through the side door while guests were still drinking champagne. Nathan followed me into the parking lot.

"Please don't leave like this."

I turned around.

"Sophie isn't ready."

"Stay."

"What?"

"Stay here. For once, don't decide what happens next."

He stopped.

I held out my hand. "Give me her grandmother's address."

His face tightened. "Sophie isn't ready."

"You have made too many decisions for other people."

Sophie's grandmother lived twenty minutes away.

"She could hate you."

"Maybe. But she gets to decide that—not you."

He looked at me for a long moment, then unlocked his phone.

Sophie's grandmother lived twenty minutes away.

I drove there in my wedding dress with the seatbelt digging into my ribs.

An older woman opened the door.

"You must be Claire."

"Of course he did."

"Is Sophie here?"

She nodded. "She doesn't want to talk to you."

"I figured."

"Nathan called."

"Of course he did."

She almost smiled. "You can sit on the steps."

So I did.

Finally, the door opened behind me.

Ten minutes passed.

Then fifteen.

Finally, the door opened behind me.

"This is weird," a girl said.

I turned.

Sophie had Nathan's eyes and the same unimpressed expression.

"Probably," I said.

"I didn't marry him out of pity."

She crossed her arms. "Did you marry my dad because you felt sorry for him?"

I could have lied.

Instead, I said, "Fear affected the timing. But no, I didn't marry him out of pity."

Sophie studied me.

"Then why did he give you part of himself before he even knew you?"