“Leo, honey, we should let Dr. Chloe get home with her groceries,” Jenna said, though her attention remained focused on me. “Willowbrook seems like such a tight-knit community. I’m sure we’ll run into each other again soon.”
“I’m sure we will,” I said, then started my truck. “Bitch,” I whispered as I smiled and waved.
I drove home on autopilot, my mind racing through everything I’d just witnessed while my hands mechanically steered through Willowbrook’s familiar streets.
Observe. Hypothesize. Test.
The same methodology I used for complex medical cases. When an animal presented with mysterious symptoms, you documented everything - environmental factors, behavioral changes, physical findings.
Observations:Sam had been secretive for days. The cash withdrawal. Trip to Millfield. Phone calls he took in private. And now, undeniable evidence – a woman and child who knew him well, were comfortable with him.
Physical evidence:The child looked exactly like Sam. Not just similar but identical in ways that couldn’t be coincidental. The same distinctive features that would make any geneticist nod in recognition. Like the unmistakable coat patterns that confirm breeding lines in animals.
Behavioral evidence:Sam’s panic when the woman tried to touch him. The woman’s calculated friendliness, like she’d been expecting this encounter. The child’s casual familiarity with Sam. Body language that spoke of established pack dynamics.
Hypothesis:Sam had a son he’d never told me about. A son old enough that he’d been conceived before Sam and I ever got together.
Just like when an animal’s symptoms finally coalesced into a clear diagnosis - everything that had seemed random suddenly formed a coherent pattern.
This was what Sam had been trying to tell me.
I pulled into the driveway and sat for a moment, processing. Sam had a son. A little boy who looked exactly like him. It all made sense now.
And Sam’s reaction when Jenna tried to touch him? Pure panic. Whatever was going on between them, it definitely wasn’t romantic. That much was crystal clear.
I carried my groceries inside and unpacked them methodically. My hands were steady. My mind was clear.
This was big. Really big. But it wasn’t the end of the world. Sam had a child from before we met. That child had apparently shown up in his life recently — probably my birthday, given the call I’ve overheard. And Sam had been trying to figure out how to tell me.
Yeah, he’d handled it badly. The secrecy instead of just being honest. That was on him, and we’d need to deal with that. But I understood panic. I understood being overwhelmed and making bad choices when you didn’t know what else to do.
The real question was: where did we go from here?
I glanced at the clock. Two hours until Emma’s party. Enough time to get my thoughts together so we could have a proper, grown-up conversation tonight after the party. No more delays, no more excuses. Just honest talk about what I’d seen and what it meant for us.
Chapter 9
Sam - Afternoon - Five Days After Chloe’s Birthday
Emma’s fourth birthday party. Her gift was wrapped and sitting in my truck – a toy veterinary kit we’d found online, complete with stuffed animals and a little stethoscope, because Emma had declared she wanted to be “an animal doctor like Dr. Chloe” when she grew up.
This morning had been the paternity test. Quick cheek swabs at the medical clinic, paperwork, and payment for rush processing. Twenty-four hours and I’d have the official results. Legal confirmation.
But I wasn’t waiting for results. As soon as this party was over, I was going to talk to Chloe. Tell her everything. No more delays, no more excuses. Arthur was right – every hour I waited made it worse.
Chloe had texted earlier that she was running errands and would meet me here.
As I pulled up to Jack and Harper’s house – the same house where Jack had nearly destroyed his family four yearsago, the same house where they’d slowly rebuilt trust and love and partnership – all I could think about was how badly I was screwing up my own relationship while supposedly learning from their mistakes.
The irony wasn’t lost on me.
Kids were already running around the front yard when I arrived, balloons tied to the mailbox, the sound of laughter and chaos that came with a dozen three and four-year-olds hopped up on anticipation of cake. Jack was in the driveway setting up what looked like a bounce house, and Harper was directing from the front porch.
They looked happy. Solid.
Everything I wanted with Chloe, if I could just figure out how to tell her the truth without losing her.
“Uncle Sam!” Emma’s shriek cut through my thoughts as she came barreling across the lawn, all blonde curls, pink sparkly princess dress, and four-year-old enthusiasm. “You came! You came to my birthday!”
