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Fiction

Light of My World

“What did I do to deserve this?”

Light of my world.
Just out of the womb. Fair-skinned,
Wrapped in woollen cloth, eyes closed,
Innocent and free from worries.
My heart beat rapidly: joy, excitement,
Pride; I couldn’t believe she was mine,
That I had a hand in making her.
“What did I do to deserve
Such joy?” I thought to myself.

Light of my world.
Three months old. Bright-eyed,
Staring in wonder, questioning and
Commenting in giggly baby-speak.
Innocent, and free from worries
Except when she cried out
For her mother’s laden breasts
Or when she cried out to
Have her nappies changed
Or when she cried out to
Be carried and pampered and rocked.
I was her soldier and more,
On call whenever I was home:
Whether in the cool of morning or
In the heat of afternoon or in the cool
Of evening or in the otherwise quiet night.
I was on call along with her mother,
Enchanted and entranced by her beauty.
I couldn’t believe she was mine,
That I had a hand in making her.
“What did I do to deserve
Such an honour?” I thought to myself.

Light of my world.
A year old. Prancing around the house,
Innocent and free from worries.
I could watch her all day,
Lost in wonder; I could watch her all day
As she explored her world in wonder.
I couldn’t believe she was mine,
That I had a hand in making her.
“What did I do to deserve
Such beauty?” I thought to myself.

Light of my world.
Four years old. Out of the backseat
And running off to meet her classmates.
Each time I dropped her off on my way
To work, I lingered a minute or two
After she had hugged me and waved
“Bye, Daddy!” to watch her run off.
She had no sister or brother yet –
Her mother and I had decided
To wait a bit before another.
A beautiful, intelligent little one;
I couldn’t believe she was mine,
That I had a hand in making her.
“What did I do to derserve
Such a gift?” I thought to myself.

Light of my world.
Six years old. Now in a new home in
Another part of town with her mother.
It has been six months:
Six months since the boiling emotions
Of a moment spilled the truth;
Six months since a DNA test confirmed
That the little one is not mine;
Six months of not seeing the one
Whom I poured so much love,
Time, attention and love into;
Six months of not believing
That she is not mine;
Six months of wondering to myself,
“What did I do to deserve
Such dishonesty, such agony?”

Disclaimer

This is a work of fiction.

Credits

Photo by Brittani Burns on Unsplash

By Chetam

2 replies on “Light of My World”

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