He stared at Jacob like he was seeing a ghost. His jaw tightened, his fingers slipping from Emily’s hand.
That was when I knew. He saw it too — the resemblance. The same sandy hair. The same dimples that appeared when Jacob smiled.
My son was the mirror image of his father.
The Moment of Truth
“Claire,” he whispered, voice shaking, “who… who is that?”
I met his eyes. “He’s my son.”
Emily gave a nervous laugh, but Mark didn’t. His gaze stayed locked on Jacob. His lips parted, his voice barely audible.
“Is he… mine?”
The noise of the market faded. Emily’s face turned pale. “What do you mean yours?” she demanded, her voice rising.
I could have lied. I could have walked away and let him wonder forever. But after years of raising Jacob alone, I was done hiding.
“Yes,” I said evenly. “He’s yours.”
Emily’s gasp cut through the air. Heads began to turn. Mark’s eyes filled with tears.
“You left me,” I continued quietly. “I found out after you were gone. I didn’t tell you because you had already made your choice. Why would I bring a baby into that chaos?”
Emily’s face twisted in shock. “You knew?” she cried, pulling her hand away from his. “You had a baby with her and never told me?”
Mark tried to reach for Jacob, but I stepped protectively in front of him. “Don’t,” I said. “You don’t get to play father now. He doesn’t know you. He doesn’t need you.”
Jacob tugged at my sleeve, confused. “Mommy?”
I knelt and kissed his forehead. “It’s okay, sweetheart. We’re going home.”
Behind me, I heard Emily’s voice break into a sob. “You destroyed everything, Mark!”
She shoved him away and stormed off through the crowd, leaving him standing there — hollow-eyed, broken, and alone.
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