My Wife Was Not My First Choice
Language: en
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. You’re going to help me…