PART 2
“Are you my dad?”
Olivia asked it softly, without accusation, without fear, with the kind of innocent curiosity only a child could carry into a room full of adults who had forgotten how to breathe.
Marcus opened his mouth, but no sound came out.
Beside him, the blonde woman in the red dress pressed one hand against the back of a chair, her engagement ring catching the light as her face drained of color. Patricia stood near the broken glass, both hands pressed to her chest, staring at my children as if Christmas morning had split open and delivered a truth she had spent eight years refusing to imagine.
Noah moved closer to me. Ethan studied Marcus with cautious interest. Sophia’s eyes darted around the room, reading faces the way she always did when something felt strange. Olivia, still waiting for an answer, tilted her head.
I placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.
“That’s something the grown-ups need to talk about first,” I said.
Her brows drew together. “But he looks like Ethan when Ethan is mad.”
A nervous sound escaped someone in the room. Not laughter exactly. More like panic trying to disguise itself.
Marcus blinked, finally finding his voice. “Kesha.”
My name sounded foreign in his mouth after all these years.
“Marcus,” I replied.
Patricia took one shaky step forward. “Four?”
The word trembled in the air.
“Yes,” I said. “Four.”
Her eyes filled instantly. “You had four babies?”
“I had four children,” I corrected gently. “Babies grow.”
Something in her face collapsed at that. Not dramatically. Not for show. Just a quiet folding inward, like a woman suddenly realizing how much life had happened without her.
What happened next changed everything… FULL STORY on the next page.
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