Silence.
Jess made a strangled sound. Adam turned ghost-white.
“It never felt like the right time,” Jess added.
I leaned back, too calm. “When would’ve been the right time? After I taught her to ride a bike? After the bedtime stories? Or maybe at her next birthday party?”
No one answered.
Adam stood, palms out. “I just wanted to be there for her.”
“For your daughter?” I said. “The one I’ve raised for five years?”
Jess sobbed. “You loved her so much. I didn’t know how to take that away.”
“You already did,” I said. “You just didn’t admit it.”
I stood. My heart pounded, but my voice stayed even.
“You both have ten minutes. Get your things. Get out of my house.”
Jess gasped. “You can’t just—”
“I can. And I am.”
Lily’s lip trembled. “Daddy?”
I knelt beside her. “Sweetheart, I love you. I’m not going anywhere. You’ll always have me.”
She nodded, crawling into my arms. “Okay.”
I kissed her forehead and turned to Adam and Jess.
“You heard me. Ten minutes.”
They left in silence. Adam muttered something about being sorry. Jess couldn’t meet my eyes. I didn’t watch them go. I just held Lily.
The next day, I filed for divorce. Jess didn’t contest it.
Adam tried to reach out. I blocked him.
We started paternity testing, but honestly, I don’t care about the results. I’ve held Lily through fevers, danced with her in the kitchen, wiped her tears and her nose. She’s mine.
Last night, Lily crawled into bed beside me.
“Daddy?” she whispered.
“Yeah, baby?”
“I don’t want to play that game again.”
I pulled her close. “Me neither. You’ll never have to.”
She looked up, eyes wide. “Are you still my real daddy?”
I didn’t hesitate. “I always have been. I always will be.”
She nodded and rested her head on my chest.
That was all she needed to hear.
