Chapter 3 - THE TEST I WAS ASHAMED TO WANT
I hated myself for the thought before it fully formed.
Rachel saw it anyway.
Her face hardened.
“Say it.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You didn’t have to.”
“Rachel—”
“You think he might not be yours.”
“I think the doctor just said—”
“The doctor said the marker doesn’t match the known family history.”
I lowered my voice.
“I’m not accusing you.”
“You already did with your face.”
That hurt because it was true.
The cardiologist interrupted gently.
“This is not a paternity issue unless you make it one. Genetic markers can appear from either parent, spontaneous mutation, or family history that was never diagnosed.”
I nodded.
Rachel looked away.
The shame sat heavy in my chest.
After the doctor left, I said, “I’m sorry.”
She laughed bitterly.
“You lasted less than three hours.”
“That’s not fair.”
“No?”
“No. I came here because I wanted to be here.”
“You came here because a photograph fell out of your suitcase.”
That landed.
Rachel took a breath.
Then looked at Owen through the glass.
“I spent seven months begging you to care before there was a crisis.”
“I know.”
“You always care when something is on fire, Nathan.”
I had no defense.
My entire career had rewarded that exact behavior.
Ignore.
Delay.
Delegate.
Then arrive dramatically when everything became urgent.
Rachel had stopped being a wife to me long before she filed for divorce.
She had become another system I assumed would keep functioning.
“I want the test,” I said quietly.
Her eyes flashed.
“Not because I doubt you.”
“Then why?”
“Because if Owen has something genetic, I need to know what I carry too.”
Rachel studied me.
Finally she nodded.
The hospital took blood from all three of us.
Results would take time.
That afternoon, Owen improved enough to leave neonatal observation.
I held him for the first time.
He fit against my chest as if he had been designed to destroy every excuse I had ever made.
Rachel watched.
“You look terrified.”
“I am.”
“Good.”
I smiled weakly.
“He’s warm.”
“Babies usually are.”
“I don’t know anything.”
“No.”
Her voice softened.
“But you can learn.”
The door opened.
Claire stepped inside holding my laptop bag.
“I’m sorry to interrupt.”
“What happened?”
“The board has been trying to reach you.”
“I told them I’m unavailable.”
“I know.”
Her expression worried me.
“There’s an emergency meeting tonight.”
“About what?”
She hesitated.
“The Zurich expansion.”
I almost laughed.
“Cancel it.”
“I can’t.”
“Why?”
Claire set a folder on the table.
“Because someone signed the final acquisition documents this morning.”
I stared at her.
“That requires my authorization.”
“Yes.”
“And I didn’t authorize anything.”
Claire swallowed.
“That’s the problem.”
She opened the folder.
My signature was at the bottom.
May you like
Perfect.
Except I had never signed it.
