“I won’t be attending your wedding, Tori.”
The words landed like a grenade. My mother’s fork clattered against her plate.
“Gerald,” she whispered. “Please, not tonight.”
But he was already reaching into his jacket pocket. He pulled out a folded document and slid it across the oak table toward me.“I’ve thought about this for a long time,” he said, his voice steady, almost rehearsed. “I won’t walk another man’s daughter down the aisle. Not until we settle this once and for all.”
I looked at the paper. It was a consent form for a DNA paternity test from a local clinic, his name already signed at the bottom.
“You have 6 weeks,” Gerald continued. “Take the test. Make the results public to the family. If you’re mine, I’ll be there. I’ll even apologize.”
He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.
“But we both know what the test will show.”
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