The Stripper’s Insemination

Melissa’s POV

My daughter is dying, and yet her father, my husband, is nowhere to be found. He’s out there, with another woman and the child they conceived behind my back.

“Happy birthday, baby,” I greet my daughter Allie, entering her hospital room with a cake in my hand. 

My smile feels heavy. The cake feels like it’s melting, the candle flickering with very little life, just like Allie’s face as she watches me. 

Leukemia has really taken a toll on her. She was diagnosed only last year, and even then it was almost too late. I went all over the world, trying to find a donor for her. But it was only yesterday that they found a match, and a surgery was done immediately.

This little celebration is all I have to cheer Allie up. 

And even this is going wrong.

Allie smiles at the sight of the cake, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “Where’s Daddy? I want to see him.”

“He’s going to be here soon,” I say vaguely, holding back tears. “Work is a little hectic right now, but I know Daddy would rather be here.”

“But you said that two days ago,” Allie whispers, looking down at her hands. They’re bruised from all the needles that they had to get into her. “I haven’t seen Daddy since we came here. Does he not want to celebrate my birthday with me?”

The pain in her innocent voice is like a punch in the gut. I open my mouth but the words dry up on my tongue. What do I tell her? How on earth could I make this better?

Ever since Eleanor came back with her daughter Lottie, Andrew seemingly just… disappeared.

Andrew used to be somewhat present in our lives. But now, he’s never around. Every time Eleanor calls, he just goes to her. It’s almost like he’s at her disposal, at her beck and call, always alert when it comes to her needs and Lottie’s. No matter how late it is, no matter what he’s doing, he will drop anything—even Allie’s birthday.

“Allie needs a pick-me-up,” I told Andrew yesterday. “The surgery wore her down. It would make her really happy if we have a little celebration. Just the three of us.”

“Very well,” was all he said to me.

I’m not an idiot. I know that he wasn’t interested. But I hoped that for the sake of his daughter, he would set aside his resentment for once and be there for her. And he couldn’t even do that.

I don’t mind that Andrew doesn’t show up for me. I don’t mind that he barely even looks at me these days. But I can’t stand when he does the same for our daughter. His own flesh and blood. It just breaks my heart. Allie did nothing to deserve this.

Tears start to pool in my eyes. I try to blink them away, to not let Allie see, but it’s too late.

“Mommy,” she says in that sweet voice of hers, sitting up from her hospital bed just to cup my face with both of her little hands. With her thumbs, she gently wipes my tears. “Don’t cry, Mommy. It’s alright. Did Daddy go with Aunt Eleanor and Lottie again?”

“I don’t know,” I say, immediately feeling awful for lying.

But Allie has always been too smart for her age. Wise, even. Sometimes it horrifies me, because it means she’s growing up way too fast and she’s missing out more than what she already does.

Allie meets my eyes, and I can already see that she knows the truth. Still, she wraps her arms around me and kisses my cheek. “Don’t worry about me, Mommy. I feel a lot better. Daddy will be happy to see me strong, so that’s what I’m going to be. I’ll just wait for him, Mommy.”

“Okay, baby,” I tell her, but deep inside, I’m about to erupt. “Excuse Mommy for a bit, okay? I just need to freshen up.”

“Be back soon, Mommy. I’m excited to have my cake!”

I try my best to smile at her, but it’s fragile, dropping off my face as soon as I leave the room. I dial Andrew’s number, my hands shaking as it rings and rings.

But of course, he doesn’t pick up.

Wasting no time, I head back to Allie’s room.

“Mommy’s just going to check something, okay?” I kiss her forehead. “I’ll be back really soon. And I might just have a surprise for you.”

“Okay!” Allie’s face lights up, warming my heart. “Take care, Mommy. I’m excited!”

Armed and motivated by that, I get into my car and head to the one and only place I know Andrew would be: the mansion he bought for Eleanor in an upscale neighborhood.

The journey is a blur, tainted by the anger pumping in my chest. I get past the gates and find the mansion, at first expecting the grandeur of the place. But to my surprise, it’s even fancier this time. There are flowers outside, as well as fairy lights and ribbons.

Laughter and music greet me even before I ring the doorbell. Through the window I see that the entire house is decorated like that. There’s even a huge pile of gifts sitting at the table. 

The door opens. Andrew meets me on the other side. His smile darkens as soon as he sees me.

“What are you doing here?”

“I should be asking you that,” I say quietly. 

“It’s Lottie’s birthday,” Andrew says, as though this should solve everything.

It just makes my anger worsen. All of this fuss, all of the whimsy and magic that Allie wanted for her own birthday is right here. 

“If you’re here to make a scene, you better just leave,” Andrew adds.

I’m so angry that I could have screamed at him then, but a woman appears behind him. I immediately recognize it as Eleanor.

The one that got away. The one that he loved all this time.

She’s gorgeous, unlike me. Her hair is bright red, her eyes green, with that flinty sultry look that I could never have. My black hair is chopped, messy. My amber eyes are always bloodshot. I could never pull off that sexy pink dress she’s wearing now. It’s no wonder why Andrew has always yearned after her.

I take a deep breath, holding back my rage. “Allie wants to see you.”

Our daughter’s name softens his expression a little bit. “Did something happen to her? How’s she doing?”

I’m about to answer when suddenly, a tiny sweet voice calls out from inside the mansion, “Daddy, come cut the cake with me!”

“Coming!” Andrew’s attention has completely shifted. 

Eleanor reaches for his hand, and together they start to head back.

I block his way, but that’s when my phone starts to ring with a call. I snatch it out of my pocket, only to find that it’s from the hospital.

“Andrew,” I grit out. “Please stay. You need to–”

“I’m busy right now.” He pauses and faces me. “I can’t come and see Allie. Tell her that I’ll take her to the amusement park when this is over.”

“It needs to be now,” I try to say, but he’s already waving me off, impatient and dismissive.

The ringtone seems to be getting louder, more urgent. Andrew glances at my phone, turns around, and leaves with Eleanor. 

Frustration is blocking my throat. I press the button, holding it against my ear, about to run after Andrew. “Hello? This is Melissa Morgan. Is my daughter okay?”

“Mrs. Morgan, this is an emergency! Your daughter is unconscious!”