We were trying to have a baby.
Four years after our wedding, I was still yet to get pregnant; with both of us medically sound.
My husband became very impatient. And cold.
After the fifth year, he suggested we adopted a baby, and even though I was not exactly comfortable with raising another woman's child, I agreed for peace to reign.
Few days later, a young teenage girl approached us at home, and offered to sell her baby to us. According to her, she heard we have agreed to adopt a child. She got raped and does not have the resources to feed an extra mouth.
I disagreed. How could I bring myself to raise the daughter of a rapist?
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But my husband was so excited about the baby. He welcomed her with open arms and rewarded her mother handsomely with the agreement that she was never going to bother us anymore.
Ten years down the lane, I still couldn't find it in my heart to love a child conceived by rape.
I was hostile. Very hostile towards her.
But my husband loved her so dearly, like she was his own.
There was a plane crash.
She, alongside her classmates was on the plane. They were headed for an excursion.
Every parent panicked for their ward, while waiting for an information of survivors if any.
Well, every parent except me.
If she survived, she survived.
If she died, she died.
My husband was restless.
He kept praying for her survival.
Out of curiosity, I inquired;
"Why do you love this girl so much?"
"She's my daughter..."
"I know that. I mean she's our adopted daughter but..."
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"Helen, I just told you she is my daughter", he cut me in with a tone that expressed a great disinterest in saying more or being further interrogated.
Wait...
Ten years down,
It took me ten years to realise that my adopted daughter was really my husband's biological daughter with another woman.
Nana broke down crying, she married after rapist! 馃槩 馃槩 馃槩
