The probability of paternity was zero.
I just sat there, frozen. It felt like a joke, some sick joke.
“What does this even mean? You took a test?” I asked, still staring at the paper.
“No, I did,” Vanessa cut in. “But that’s not the issue. The issue is the result!”
“I never cheated on you! Paul, this is not true! ” I protested.
“But it is,” Vanessa snapped. “And you know it, so stop pretending.”
“No! You hate me so much you’d fake something this serious?!”
“There’s nothing fake here. I took Paul’s toothbrush and the spoon Austin ate with. The samples were real. The result’s accurate,” Vanessa declared coldly.
“No, Paul! You have to believe me! Austin is your son! I’ve never been unfaithful!” I cried in despair.
“I’ve already packed a bag. It’s in the car. I need some time alone, without either of you,” Paul said, standing up.
“No, please don’t go,” I begged.
“Don’t call me. Don’t text me. I won’t answer.”
Paul walked out the door with Vanessa following him. I collapsed on the couch, still clutching that damn test result in my hands. I knew it couldn’t be true. I had never cheated. But I had no idea how to prove it.
***
That night was hell.