FORBIDDEN GIFT

Chapter 1: Daddy’s Absence, A New Beginning

My name is Gift, and life has never been the same since I lost my father. I was just seventeen when death snatched him away. One moment, I was “daddy’s little girl,” and the next, I was standing by his grave, trying to understand why the world suddenly felt so empty.

My father wasn’t just a parent—he was my best friend. He was the one who walked me to school when I was small, bought me roasted corn on the way home, and carried me on his shoulders whenever I got tired. I still remember how he used to lift me up and say, “Gift, you’ll see the world higher than everyone else.” Back then, I thought he would always be there. I never imagined that one day, his voice would become only an echo in my memory.

Mum was only thirty-six when he died. She looked so young, so lost, and so fragile, yet she carried herself like a woman determined to keep our little family alive. I admired her strength, but inside, I was breaking. Sometimes at night, I would hear muffled sobs from her bedroom, but by morning, she wore a brave smile and told me, “We’ll be fine, Gift. We’ll always be fine.”

School made everything worse. The whispers were everywhere, sharp as knives. In the corridors, I would hear them:

“She doesn’t have a father.”

“Her mum will soon bring another man home.”

Some even laughed openly when I walked past. Their words clung to me like shadows I couldn’t shake off.

One afternoon, after enduring too much, I came home with tears still wet on my cheeks. Mum was in the living room, folding clothes, and she froze when she saw my face.

“Gift, what’s wrong?” she asked softly, dropping the fabric on the chair.

I sat beside her, my heart pounding. “Mum… they keep teasing me at school. They say I don’t have a father, and that one day you’ll bring another man home. I don’t know how to feel about it.”

Her eyes dimmed with sadness. For a moment, she looked as though she carried the weight of both our worlds. Then, without hesitation, she pulled me into her arms.

“My daughter,” she whispered, “people will always talk. But you must remember—you are not defined by their words.”

I held her tighter, sobbing into her shoulder. “Mum… if you ever bring a man home, I promise, I won’t fight you. I’ll accept him. I don’t want to lose you too.”

She pulled back and cupped my face. Her touch was warm, steady, and her eyes glistened with unshed tears. “Gift, you’ll never lose me. And if that time comes, I’ll make sure you are ready.”

At that moment, I meant every word. I thought my heart could handle it.

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Three years later, I was no longer that fragile, grieving girl. I was a young woman, nearly twenty, preparing to celebrate my birthday in a month’s time. Life had taught me to smile again, though a part of me would always long for Dad.

On the morning of my birthday, Mum called me into the sitting room. She was glowing, wearing a dress I hadn’t seen before. Beside her stood a tall man with warm eyes and a smile that felt almost fatherly.

“Gift,” Mum said with a sparkle in her eyes, “meet David.”

I blinked. For a second, my heart raced, unsure how to react. My eyes swept over him—well-dressed, respectable, and confident in a quiet way. Something about his aura felt… safe.

“Happy birthday, young lady,” he said with a gentle smile, handing me a small, wrapped box.

I took the gift with shaky hands. Instead of fear or rejection, what I felt was… relief. For once, I wasn’t standing in the shadow of my loss. For once, I could say I had a father again.

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The weeks passed quickly, and David became a familiar face in our home. I watched how he treated Mum with gentleness, how he never raised his voice, and how he always respected her opinions. Soon enough, their bond became official—Mum and David were married.

The wedding was simple but beautiful. Mum wore a cream lace gown, her smile brighter than I had seen in years. I wore a blue dress that made me feel like her little bride’s maid. Neighbors gathered, some whispering judgments: “She moved on fast.” Others nodded approvingly, saying, “At least she found love again.”

But for me, it wasn’t about gossip. It was about watching Mum laugh without holding back, about seeing her dance with David like a teenager in love. It was about me finally standing tall without the shame of being “fatherless.”

With David’s support, Mum opened a boutique, and it flourished. He himself was a well-known architect, constantly busy but never too busy to check on us. He became more than just “Mum’s husband”—he became my guide, my protector, my second father. For the first time in years, I felt like part of a whole family again.

When I gained admission into one of the biggest universities in the country, David was there every step of the way. He drove me to campus on my first day, carried some of my luggage himself, and even spoke to my lecturers, leaving them impressed.

“Daddy’s girl,” my friends soon began calling me. And for once, I didn’t mind. I wore the name proudly.

Life seemed perfect. Too perfect.

But I didn’t know then that perfection doesn’t last forever. I didn’t know that the real challenges—the kind that would test not just my studies but my heart—were waiting just around the corner.

And as I stepped into my new university life, I had no idea that love, rivalry, and betrayal would soon tear at the seams of everything I thought I had secured.