“That’s ridiculous,” she said.
“Is it?” I asked quietly. “Tell me the truth.”
She looked away.
That was enough.
“Chloe… look at me.”
“It doesn’t matter,” she whispered. “You were going to love him anyway.”
The world tilted.
“Doesn’t matter?” I repeated. “You told me he was mine.”
She broke down, tears streaming.
“I was scared, Daniel! I needed stability… someone who could take care of us.”
Us.
Not love.
Not destiny.
Just convenience.
I paid for the fastest test available.
The result came back clear.
Zero probability.
I wasn’t the father.
I walked out of that clinic feeling like everything beneath me had collapsed.
But the worst part came moments later.
My phone buzzed.
A message from Lauren—Emily’s sister.
Emily’s in labor. Emergency C-section. She told me not to call you… but I thought you should know.
I read it again and again.
While I had been spending money and building illusions with another woman… my real wife was in surgery, bringing my child into the world alone.
I drove to the public hospital like a man possessed.
My expensive shoes echoed across the worn floors as I rushed to maternity.
The nurse looked at me coldly when I said Emily’s name.
“You’re late.”
She was right.
Late to everything.