My Wife Was Not My First Choice

Summary

After three years of managing our firm's London branch, I stepped off the plane at Logan Airport and went straight to Cambridge City Hall. I hadn't even checked into my apartment. I just wanted to finally get our marriage license.

But when Vanessa met me on the steps, she wasn’t holding paperwork. She was holding a newborn baby, wrapped in a thin, faded hospital blanket.

Before I could even ask, she casually pressed the bundle into my arms.

"She’s mine and Blake’s," Vanessa said, her voice entirely flat, as if she were handing me a coffee order. "Her name is Daisy.