Marcus finally sat down.
“Denise, why?”
She looked at him, and the expression on her face made my chest ache. She looked like a woman standing at the edge of a cliff, knowing that the only way forward was to jump.
“Because the results didn’t tell me what I wanted to hear.”
I stared at her.
“What does that mean?”
She drew a trembling breath.
“Thomas brought me the report two days after you were born. I was still in the hospital. I was exhausted, frightened, and recovering from complications. He sat beside my bed and told me that whatever the results said, I needed to make a decision about your future.”
She glanced at Marcus.
“He knew how much I loved you. He also knew how much I loved Marcus.”
Robert let out a bitter laugh.
“Apparently everyone knew except me.”
Denise turned toward him.
“You were not there, Robert. You had left me alone with a newborn and a question I was terrified to answer.”
“I came back.”
“After she was born. After the first report was inconclusive. After I’d already started making arrangements to raise her without you.”
“And then you destroyed the second report?”
“Yes.”
The admission landed heavily.
I gripped the edge of the table.
“Mom, what did it say?”
Denise looked at me.
“I don’t remember the exact percentages. I remember the conclusion.”
“Then tell me.”
She closed her eyes.
“It excluded Robert as your biological father.”
Robert staggered backward.
For several seconds, he simply stared at her.
Then he whispered, “No.”
Denise began crying harder.
“The report said you weren’t Aaliyah’s biological father.”
Robert shook his head.
“You’re lying.”
“I’m not.”
“You’ve lied about everything else!”
“I know.”
He struck the table with his palm.
“Then why should I believe you now?”
“Because I have spent twenty-seven years wishing I could take those words back!”
I watched Robert’s face collapse.
He had spent years believing I might be his daughter. He had abandoned me because he couldn’t bear the uncertainty, yet some part of him had returned hoping that biology would give him another chance.
Now the uncertainty was gone.
And the answer was not the one he had feared most.
It was the one that left him with nothing to blame but his own choices.
I turned toward Marcus.
He hadn’t said a word.
“Does that mean you’re my biological father?”
He looked at Denise.
She nodded, but her voice was barely audible.
“Yes.”
I stopped breathing.
Marcus stared at the table, his hands clasped so tightly that his knuckles had turned white.
“I never knew for certain,” he said. “I swear to you, Aaliyah. I knew there was a possibility, but Denise never told me what the second report said.”
I wanted to believe him.
I wanted to throw my arms around him and hear him say that everything was going to be all right.
Instead, I asked the question that had haunted me since I opened the first envelope.
“Why did you let me believe Robert was my father?”
Marcus looked up.
“Because your mother asked me to.”
“And you agreed?”
“Yes.”
“Even after you knew there was a chance I was yours?”
“Yes.”
His honesty hurt.
He continued before I could speak.
“I loved your mother. I loved you. And when you were born, I promised myself that I would never make you feel unwanted. If I had demanded a test, if I had insisted on knowing, I was afraid I would turn your childhood into a competition between two men.”
“You made it a secret instead.”
“Yes.”
He swallowed.
“I thought I was choosing the kindest option. I was wrong.”
My mother reached across the table.
“Marcus, I never meant for you to suffer because of this.”
He looked at her sadly.
“You didn’t mean for any of us to suffer. But we did.”
I looked at the paper again.
Thomas Bennett.
My uncle had collected the report. He had known the truth. Then he had died, and my grandmother had apparently spent years trying to recover the document.
“Why didn’t Uncle Thomas give the report to Grandma?”
Denise wiped her cheeks.
“He did give it to her.”
I looked up sharply.
“What?”
She nodded.
“After I destroyed the original, Thomas made a copy. He gave it to my mother because he was afraid I would regret what I’d done.”
“Then where is that copy?”
Denise stared at the table.
“I don’t know.”
Robert laughed without humor.
“Of course you don’t.”
But I was no longer listening to him.
