For a moment, the words made no sense. I stared at her, my mind blank, until she casually dropped a folded envelope onto the table. It slid toward me, stopping beside my untouched wine glass.
“A DNA report,” she said calmly. “Since you trust him so much, I figured you deserved to see the truth.”
Then she turned and walked away, leaving me frozen in my seat as everything around me seemed to blur.
My fingers trembled as I opened the envelope. Two names jumped out at me—Damien Caldwell and Ethan Caldwell. Beneath them, the result was clear: 99.99% probability of paternity.
No… this couldn’t be real.
If it were true, Damien would have told me. He wouldn’t hide something this huge. There had to be an error. Or Camille had fabricated it. She must have.
I grabbed my bag and hurried out, ignoring the curious stares and the waiter calling after me. The cool night air hit my face as I rushed to my car. My hands shook so badly that I struggled to insert the key into the ignition.
All I could picture was Damien—his warm smile, the way he held my hand, the promises he whispered. He had told me I was the only one. That there were no secrets between us.
But what if that wasn’t true?
I drove to the hospital, my chest tightening with every passing minute. The parking lot was almost empty when I arrived. I hurried inside, my heels echoing loudly against the polished floor. The fluorescent lights buzzed faintly overhead, casting a harsh, sterile glow.
“Excuse me,” I said to the nurse at the counter. “Ethan Caldwell—do you know where his room is?”
She glanced at her chart. “East wing, third floor.”
“Thank you.”
I walked quickly, my heartbeat pounding in my ears. But just as I reached the corner of the hallway, voices stopped me.
Familiar voices.
Damien’s—and my mother-in-law’s.
I halted just out of sight, their conversation carrying clearly through the quiet corridor.
“You’re indulging your brother too much,” Regina said sharply. “That’s why he’s becoming so spoiled. He barely respects anyone and keeps demanding your attention.”
Damien let out a tired breath. “What do you expect me to do? Of course I spoil him. He’s not my brother, Regina. He’s my son.”
My heart seemed to stop.
So it was true.
I leaned against the wall, struggling to steady my breathing, but my chest felt too tight.