"To what?" Elena challenges. "You want him to follow up with every woman he's ever been with? Run paternity tests just in case?"
"He should have made sure she was okay!"
"Maybe he did. Maybe she told him everything was fine. Maybe she didn't want him involved." Elena's tone sharpens. "Maybe she never told him she was pregnant. You're condemning him without knowing a single fact about what actually happened."
I stop pacing and stare at her. "Whose side are you on?"
"Yours, you big dummy." Elena's expression softens slightly. "That's why I'm not letting you torch this without facts."
My phone buzzes on the coffee table where I dropped it. Logan's name lights up the screen—his photo from the farmers market, laughing, apple cider in hand, hair wind-tousled. That was two weeks ago. A different lifetime.
Missed calls (7): Logan
Text messages (12): Logan
I sink onto the couch. "What could he possibly say?"
"Maybe start by hearing him out before you decide."
The phone buzzes again. I pick it up, thumbs hovering.
Logan:Please Reese. Just let me know you're ok. I need to talk to you.
Three dots appear. He's typing.
Logan:I swear I didn't know. Please believe me.
"He says he didn't know." My voice comes out flat.
"Do you believe him?"
I remember his face when Jessica stood. The color draining from his cheeks. The way he gripped the podium like his legs might give out.
"I don't know." I set the phone face-down. "But even if he didn't know—El, that means he was so careless with Jessica that he created a life and then never followed up. Never thought to check."
"Or it means Jessica deliberately didn't tell him."
"Why wouldn't she?"
Elena shrugs. "Could be a hundred reasons. Maybe she wanted to raise Tyler alone. Maybe she thought Logan wouldn't care. Maybe she tried and couldn't reach him."
"Then why show up tonight? Why make it public like that?"
"Child support?" Elena says it matter-of-factly. "She's been doing this alone for three years. Logan's rich. She wants what's owed."
The calculation in Elena's tone steadies something in me. Makes this less about betrayal and more about... what? Logistics? Reality?
"I teach five-year-olds," I say quietly. "I see what custody fights do to them. The kids who get picked up late because parents can't coordinate. Who forget homework at Dad's house. Who shut down because they feel like weapons."
"Tyler's not your student."
"But he's someone's." I pull my knees up, wrap my arms around them. My gown's fabric bunches awkwardly. "He's three years old and innocent and he deserves better than whatever mess the adults in his life are about to create."
Elena sits beside me. "You're already thinking about Tyler."
"Of course I am. I always put the kids first."
"Most women would be thinking about themselves. About Logan. About the relationship."
