I Only Agreed to Pretend to Be His Daughter’s Mother, But Now He Wants Me Forever

The wheels of the suitcase rattled over uneven pavement, wobbling every few steps as if mocking the little strength Daisy Valentine had left. Her hands were already sore from dragging it since leaving the station, her palms red and trembling with the effort. The suitcase contained her whole world—clothes carefully folded, a few trinkets from her childhood, photo albums, and the courage it had taken to leave behind everything familiar. Her chest tightened with nervous anticipation as she stood before the apartment building. She had memorized the address countless times, staring at it late at night when doubts crept in, clinging to it as proof that her future was waiting here. This was supposed to be her new beginning—the first day of living together with the boy she had loved for years. Her petite frame straightened, as if gathering courage would make her taller, braver, stronger. The chill of the foreign air brushed against her cheeks, but her heart was warm with hope. She pulled the handle of her suitcase closer and stepped forward, every muscle aching yet propelled by excitement. The entrance door gave way with a soft push, and she stepped into the quiet hallway. The sound of her suitcase wheels echoed faintly, mingling with the thundering beat of her heart. She found the number—his number—and stopped. For a moment, she pressed her palm to her chest, trying to calm the wild flutter. This was it. This was where her new life began. Her lips curved into the smallest of smiles as she reached out to press the buzzer, but then… her gaze shifted. The curtains of the apartment were slightly open, and curiosity made her glance in. The smile froze. Her breath caught. Inside, lit by the glow of a warm lamp, she saw him. The boy who had been her everything, her reason for leaving home, her promise of forever. He was there—his familiar frame, his messy hair she once adored, his laugh she could almost hear through the glass. And beside him… a woman. The woman leaned close, and he leaned closer still, and then their lips met in a kiss that shattered Daisy’s world in an instant. Her fingers trembled so violently on the handle of her suitcase that she nearly lost grip. The sting in her chest spread, tightening until she thought she might collapse. All the late nights spent dreaming, the letters, the whispered promises—they all unraveled in a single glance. She stumbled back, dragging the suitcase with her, the rattling noise too loud in the suffocating silence. Tears blurred her vision, but she didn’t stop. She couldn’t stop. Her legs moved before her mind could catch up, running, fleeing from the sight that had burned itself into her memory. Her breathing turned harsh, shallow gasps tearing from her throat. Her legs screamed in protest, unaccustomed to such frantic movement, but she didn’t care. The suitcase thumped and bumped along the ground as she ran, dragging it as if clinging to the only proof of her existence here. And as she ran, memories collided with the present, filling every broken gasp of breath. She remembered the very first day of high school. Daisy Valentine had been small, lost in the vast maze of corridors, clutching her books to her chest with tears threatening at the corners of her eyes. She had always been a loner, shy to the point of silence, unsure how to speak without stuttering, unsure where to belong. The world felt too big for her… until he appeared. A boy with a gentle smile had noticed her hesitation, seen her confusion, and without asking anything, had reached out his hand. She still remembered how warm it was when he held hers and said, “Come on, I’ll show you where to go.” That was the first time she didn’t feel invisible. He had been her shield in those early days. When a group of girls mocked her quiet nature, calling her names she didn’t dare repeat, it was him who stepped in, standing in front of her and saying she was his friend. From then on, no one dared to laugh at her again. He was her courage. He taught her how to smile at others, how to speak without fear, how to believe she could have friends. When she doubted herself, he whispered that she was enough. When she shrank into silence, he filled it with encouragement. It was him who gave her courage to look at the world and believe it might hold something wonderful. And it was him who stole her heart. She remembered how long it took her to gather the courage to confess—months. Long, agonizing months of sleepless nights, of rehearsing the words in her head, of convincing herself again and again that he would never feel the same. Each day, she swallowed back her feelings, telling herself friendship was enough, that just being beside him was enough. But her heart had betrayed her. Every glance, every smile, every time his hand brushed hers—her chest burned with the truth she couldn’t say. Until one afternoon, beneath the cherry blossoms blooming in the schoolyard, the words had burst out. Her voice trembled, her hands shook, her face burned with embarrassment—she had expected rejection. She had braced herself for the sting of losing even the little she had. But he smiled. And he said, “I like you too.” The world had spun that day, bright and endless. Daisy remembered laughing through her tears, the overwhelming rush of joy that left her dizzy. She had never felt so alive. They were together from then on. Every day felt lighter, every worry easier to bear. They walked to school hand in hand, shared lunches, whispered secrets in the quiet of the library. She had never imagined herself worthy of happiness like this, but he made her believe she was. Those days had been bliss. Pure, unshakable bliss. Until the day his parents divorced. The happy glow shattered with one phone call, with the sight of him standing at the gate, eyes red, suitcase in hand. He had to leave, he said. He had no choice but to follow his mother to another state. She had clung to him desperately, her heart breaking even as she whispered that they would be fine, that nothing could separate them. But distance was cruel. At first, they fought it together. They called, they wrote letters. She filled notebooks with words for him, sent them carefully with hope sealed inside. His voice on the phone kept her alive. But as months passed, his words grew fewer. The calls shorter. The silence longer. She had felt him slipping, slipping, no matter how tightly she tried to hold on. Until she learned the truth. His mother was struggling. College weighed on him. Bills, rent, food—it was too much. So she helped. She sent money—whatever she could scrape together from part-time jobs and frugal living. At first small, then larger amounts. Enough for his books, for his rent, for the down payment on this very apartment. Every time she sent money, she felt him return to her. His laughter grew lighter, his messages sweeter, his warmth like it once had been. And she thought—it was worth it. Every sacrifice, every lonely day, every coin pinched—it was worth it if it meant keeping him. He had been her first love. Her only love. And now, she had crossed an ocean for him… only to see him kiss someone else. Her legs wobbled as she ran, the world tilting with dizziness. The suitcase pulled her down, heavy and unyielding, as if mocking all the weight she had borne alone. Thankfully, she stumbled into a playground. The sound of children’s laughter no longer lingered; the playground was empty, deserted under the looming clouds. She collapsed onto the seat of a swing, the cold metal creaking beneath her weight. Her hands gripped the chains so tightly her knuckles turned white, her breaths coming in uneven bursts. She lowered her head, bangs sticking to her damp forehead, trying to calm the storm inside her chest. But the storm outside arrived first. The sky roared, thunder rolling, and the rain fell heavier. Panic drove her to move again. She searched the empty playground, spotting a slide with a playhouse at the top. She tried to lift her suitcase up the stairs, but her weak arms failed. She pulled, strained, her muscles screaming in protest, until she had no choice but to let go. She laughed bitterly through tears, the sound almost hysterical. Daisy Valentine’s strength was gone, her heart was gone. Spotting a small umbrella abandoned in the dirt, she opened it with trembling hands and placed it over her suitcase, shielding what little she had left. Then, with thunder cracking again above her, she climbed the slippery steps and crawled inside the playhouse. The interior was cramped, barely enough space for her small body. She curled up, pressing her knees to her chest, listening to the rain hammer against the roof. And then she broke. Her sobs came in waves—raw, ugly, unstoppable. She pressed her face into her arms, shoulders shaking, muffling her cries against the storm. Her chest ached with every breath, her throat burned with the force of trying to keep quiet and failing. Her heart screamed inside her ribcage, begging for the pain to stop, for the memories to vanish, for the image of him kissing another to disappear. The sound of the rain seemed endless, drowning her, as though the sky itself wept with her. Minutes passed. She lost track of time, curled up so tightly it felt like she was trying to disappear. Her tears soaked her sleeves, her body trembled, and slowly—so slowly—her sobs dulled into hiccups, her breath evening into weak, broken gasps. Silence crept in. The storm still raged outside, but inside the playhouse, a fragile stillness settled. And then… she felt it. A strange weight in the air, something off, something that made the tiny hairs on her arms rise. She wasn’t alone. Lifting her head slowly, eyes swollen and blurred, Daisy froze. In the dim light filtering through the rain, she saw a pair of wide, fearful eyes staring back at her from the opposite corner of the playhouse. A child. A little girl, curled up tightly, trembling with every rumble of thunder, watching her silently.