I nodded.
“Why didn’t you tell her as soon as you found out? The moment you got that message?”
“I panicked.” I needed him to understand. “The text came through at the restaurant — we were at Rosewood Inn, and I was about to propose, and suddenly there’s this photo of a kid who looks exactly like me and a message saying he’s my son, and I just—I froze. I should have shown her right then. But I didn’t, and then I went to meet Jenna yesterday, and now it’s been two days, and I just keep digging myself deeper—”
“Let me stop you right there,” Arthur interrupted, holding up a hand. “I’m not a therapist, Sam. I’m a lawyer. I deal in facts, not feelings. And the fact is, you need to tell that girl everything. Today.”
He leaned forward, his voice sharp with urgency. “You go home right now, and you tell Chloe everything. Everything. Do you understand me?”
“I know I need to, I just—”
“No.” He stood up, which made the directive even more serious. “Not ‘eventually.’ Not ‘when the time is right.’ You tell her today. Tonight. The moment she walks through that door. For the love of God, tell her before she finds out some other way.”
“She won’t find out. No one in Willowbrook knows—”
“Small towns?” Arthur shook his head. “Information travels. Maybe someone saw you in Millfield. Maybe someone heard something. A customer of yours will mention seeing you with a woman and a child. And when Chloe finds out — not if,when— and discovers you’ve been keeping this from her?” He looked at me with something close to pity. “That kind of betrayal is hard to come back from, son.”
The words hit hard because I knew he was right. I’d already lied to Chloe multiple times. Every hour I delayed telling her was another brick in a wall that might eventually become insurmountable.
“You’re right,” I said quietly. “I’ll tell her tonight.”
“Good man.” Arthur sat back down and pulled out a business card, scribbling something on the back. “This is the testing lab I mentioned. Call them today, get an appointment for tomorrow if possible.” He handed me the card. “Chloe is a good woman. She deserves honesty.”
I pocketed the card, Arthur’s words echoing in my head all the way home:Chloe deserves honesty.
Chapter 5
Sam - Three Days After Chloe’s Birthday
I’d spent the night alone in our bed, staring at the ceiling, replaying every terrible decision I’d made over the past three days.
Arthur’s words kept echoing in my mind:Tell her before she finds out some other way. That kind of betrayal is hard to come back from.
I’d gone home from his office yesterday, determined to tell Chloe everything the moment she walked through the door. I’d rehearsed what to say while I paced the living room, my phone clutched in my hand, waiting for her text that she was on her way home from the Jenkins farm.
Instead, I’d gotten a very different message:Major emergency call. Dairy farm two hours out — dozens of cows in distress. They’re calling for all available vets in the area. I have to go. I’m so tired, but I can’t say no to this.
My heart had sunk, but I’d texted back immediately:Of course. Be safe. Call me when you can.
She’d called four hours later, and I’d heard the devastation in her voice even before she spoke.
“Sam, it’s bad. Really bad.” Her voice had been thick with unshed tears. “There are about ten vets here, and we’re… there’s nothing we can do. All of them. We’re going to have to euthanize them.”
“Jesus, Chloe. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s going to be a long night. I’m exhausted from the Jenkins farm, but these animals…” She’d taken a shaky breath. “The farmer is destroyed. Almost his whole herd. His entire livelihood, just gone.”
“Do you want me to come get you? I can drive out—”
“No, I’ll be okay. I’m going to stay overnight with one of the local vets here rather than risk driving home this exhausted. Dr. Carrington has a guest room. I’ll head back in the morning.”
“Are you sure? I don’t mind—”
“I’m sure. Besides, we’d still have to come back for my truck anyway.” Another shaky breath. “I should go. We have a lot of work ahead of us tonight.”
“I love you,” I’d said, desperate to say something that mattered.
“Love you too.”
