“Is she really mine?”
I nodded once. “The DNA test was already done. You demanded it during the divorce proceedings—remember?”
He flinched like I’d slapped him. “I never even looked at the results.”
“I know. Your lawyer sent them to mine. Ninety-nine point nine percent match. She’s yours, Ethan. But that doesn’t mean you can just walk back into my life and pretend none of this happened.”
“I know.” He wiped his eyes roughly with the back of his hand. “I know I don’t deserve anything from you. But I want to be responsible.”
“For the baby?”
“For both of you.”
I studied him carefully. This wasn’t the confident, ambitious man I’d married. This was someone broken, frightened, and drowning in shame.
“You’re supposed to be getting married in two days,” I said.
“I canceled it.” His voice was firm. “Called the venue from my car. Told them there wouldn’t be a wedding. I don’t care about the deposits or what people think. I can’t marry someone who lied to me about something this important.”
That shocked me more than anything else that had happened.
The Long Road From Panic to Actually Showing Up
My mother, who’d been silent through this entire exchange, finally spoke up.
“I think you need to leave now, Ethan. My daughter needs rest, and so does your daughter.”
Ethan nodded, already moving toward the door. But he paused with his hand on the handle.
“Can I come back tomorrow?” he asked quietly. “To see her? To… to learn how to be her father?”
I looked at my sleeping daughter, then back at the man who’d spent the last six months denying her existence.
“You can come back,” I said carefully. “But I’m not making any promises beyond that. You want to be in her life? You’re going to have to earn it. Starting from zero.”
“I understand.”
And then he was gone, leaving my mother and me in stunned silence.
“What just happened?” my mother finally asked.
“I have absolutely no idea,” I admitted.
