Then, as if the universe hadn’t already knocked the air out of me, he stepped forward.
Nathan.
The ex-fiancé who had left me at the altar. The man I’d spent years trying to forget. And here he was, standing in my parents’ living room like he belonged there.
The room tilted. I gripped the back of a chair to steady myself.
No one spoke.
No one moved.
Nathan’s eyes locked onto mine, unreadable. I wished I could say I felt nothing—that time had erased the pain—but all I felt was a hurricane of emotions threatening to tear me apart.
And then I saw it. The guilt in his eyes.
That was the moment it hit me.
A cold, bitter laugh bubbled up from my chest. “So… we’re doing this now?” My voice shook, but I didn’t care. “After all these years, this is how I find out?”
Emily flinched. “I—”
I raised a hand to stop her. “No. Don’t.” My heart was racing so loudly that I could barely think. “Tell me I’m wrong. Tell me that’s not his kid.” I pointed to the little boy, whose tiny fingers were curled tightly around Emily’s hand.
She didn’t answer.
Didn’t need to.
I let out a sharp breath, nodding slowly as the weight of it all hit me. “Wow.” I cleared my throat. “So, what now? Someone gonna explain, or am I supposed to piece this one together myself?”
Nathan stepped forward, his voice quiet. “I—”
I snapped toward him. “You don’t get to speak.” My voice sliced through the air.
He stopped.
