Edward waited patiently by the door, his hat in hand, looking both apprehensive and composed. “You’re sure he’ll talk to us?”
“No,” Emma admitted, pulling on her coat.
“But we have to try.”
On the way to the cinema office, she found herself opening up to Edward, perhaps to calm her nerves.
“My mom had Alzheimer’s,” she explained, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter. “It started while she was pregnant with me. Her memory was…
unpredictable. Some days, she’d know exactly who I was. Other days, she’d look at me like I was a stranger.”
Edward nodded solemnly.
“That must have been hard for you.”
“It was,” she said. “Especially because my Dad, I call him Thomas, decided to put her in a care facility. I understand why, but over time, he just stopped visiting her.
And when my grandmother passed, all the responsibility fell on me. He helped financially, but he was… absent.
That’s the best way to describe him. Distant. Always distant.”
Edward didn’t say much, but his presence was grounding.
Emma hesitated before opening the door to Thomas’s office.
Inside, he sat at his desk, papers meticulously arranged in front of him. His sharp, calculating eyes flicked to her, then to Edward. “What’s this about?”
“Hi, Dad.
This is my friend, Edward,” she stammered.
“Go on.” His face didn’t change.
“I need to ask you about someone who worked here years ago. A woman named Evelyn.”
He froze for a fraction of a second, then leaned back in his chair. “I don’t discuss former employees.”
“You need to make an exception,” she pressed.
“Edward has been searching for Evelyn for decades. We deserve answers.”
Thomas’s jaw tightened. “Her name wasn’t Evelyn.”
“What?” Emma blinked.
“She called herself Evelyn, but her real name was Margaret,” he admitted, his words cutting through the air.
“Your mother. She made up that name because she was having an affair with him,” he gestured toward Edward, “and thought I wouldn’t find out.”
The room went silent.
Edward’s face paled. “Margaret?”
“She was pregnant when I found out,” Thomas continued bitterly.
“With you, as it turned out.” He looked at Emma then, his cold expression faltering for the first time. “I thought cutting her off from him would make her rely on me. But it didn’t.
And when you were born… I knew I wasn’t your father.”
Emma’s head spun. “You knew all this time?”
“I provided for her,” he said, avoiding my gaze. “For you.
But I couldn’t stay.”
Edward’s voice broke the silence. “Margaret is Evelyn?”
“She was Margaret to me,” Thomas replied stiffly. “But clearly, she wanted to be someone else with you.”
Edward sank into a chair, his hands trembling.
“She never told me. I… I had no idea.”
Emma looked between them, her heart pounding.
Thomas was not her father at all.
“I think,” she said, “we need to visit her. Together.” She glanced at Edward, then turned to Thomas, holding his gaze. “All three of us.
Christmas is a time for forgiveness, and if there’s ever a moment to set things right, it’s now.”
For a moment, she thought Thomas would scoff or dismiss the idea altogether. But to her surprise, he stood, reached for his overcoat, and nodded.
***
They drove to the care facility in silence. When they arrived, the holiday wreath on the door seemed oddly out of place against the surroundings.
Emma’s mother was in her usual spot by the lounge window.
She was staring outside, her face distant. Her hands rested motionless in her lap even as they approached.
“Mom,” Emma called gently, but there was no reaction.
Edward stepped forward, his movements slow and deliberate. He looked at her.
“Evelyn.”
The change was instant.
Her head turned toward him, her eyes sharpening with recognition. Slowly, she rose to her feet.
“Edward?” she whispered.
He nodded. “It’s me, Evelyn.
It’s me.”
Tears welled in her eyes, and she took a shaky step forward. “You’re here.”
“I never stopped waiting,” he replied, his own eyes glistening.
Emma’s heart swelled with emotions she couldn’t fully name as she watched them. This was their moment, but it was also hers.
She turned to Thomas, who stood a few steps behind, his hands in his pockets.
His usual sternness was gone, replaced by something almost vulnerable.
“You did the right thing coming here,” she said softly.
He gave a slight nod but said nothing. His gaze lingered on Emma’s mother and Edward, and for the first time, she saw something that looked like regret.
The snow began to fall gently outside, blanketing the world in a soft, peaceful hush.
“Let’s not end it here,” Emma said, breaking the quiet. “It’s Christmas.
How about we go get some hot cocoa and watch a holiday movie? Together.”
Edward’s eyes lit up. Thomas hesitated.
“That sounds…
nice,” he said gruffly, his voice softer than she’d ever heard.
That day, four lives intertwined in ways none of them had imagined. Together, they walked into a story that had taken years to find its ending—and its new beginning.
