The doc comes around to me and swabs the inside of my cheek. “How long will it take to get the results?” I ask.
“Approximately ten days to two weeks.”
Vivien visibly pales. “Can’t you expedite it? We can pay more,” she offers.
“That is as fast as we can deliver the results. This is not a routine paternity test. In order to determine paternity in cases of identical twins, we need to examine more than just the standard markers. There is no way it can be rushed.”
“And you’re sure you can conclusively determine paternity with these samples?” she asks.
He nods. “We will examine the entire genome sequence which will isolate at least a single mutation in one of the twin’s genetics that has been passed on from father to son. The test will confirm which twin fathered your son.”
She blushes, and it takes me back in time. “We’ll await your call.” I climb to my feet, barely resisting the urge to help her stand. “Thank you.”
When we’re outside, she tells me she needs to speak to me, walking off before I answer. Although, I suspect I know what she wants to say, I follow her across the car park and climb into the passenger seat of her car where we proceed to argue about herfucking husband. She wants to tell Reeve what’s going on now, but I refuse, resorting to blackmail to ensure her secrecy.
If Easton is my son, I want to be there when she tells Reeve.
I want to see the look on his face when he realizes he’s lost his son to me.
I want him to look into my eyes and see the love I hold for his wife and read my intent.
I want him to understand I’m going nowhere.
As soon as he fucks up again—and he will—I’ll be waiting for Vivien with open arms, ready to be the man she needs me to be.
I didn’t fight hard enough for her all those years ago, and I’m not making the same mistake again. I might be crazy angry right now, but being around her again has only confirmed what I’ve always known. She’s the love of my life, and I want her back. I know, in time, I’ll find a way to forgive her for her sins, and we’ll be happy together the way we always should have been.
55
AGE 26
My hands are trembling as I hold the report, rereading the words through blurry eyes.I have a son.He’s mine. Easton is mine. Mine and Viv’s. The most indescribable joy swells my heart until it feels like it might burst out of my chest. Vivien and I created precious life together. I think I knew making love to her that last night that something magical was happening. Easton’s excited boyish face resurrects in my mind, and I’m smiling as I dab at my happy tears. We made the most adorable little human, and I can’t wait to hold him and shower him with love.
All I’m feeling in this moment is complete elation. Viv’s deceit and the missing years don’t matter. One-upping my brother fades into the background. Vivien and I have a son. He’s ours, and I’m more determined than ever to win her back now.
I’m bursting with pride, and I wish I could tell Ash and Jamie. I want to tell them so badly I’m a daddy. I want to pick up the phone and tell Ma she’s got another grandchild. I feel like shouting it from the rooftops so everyone knows.
But all in good time. Viv and I need to talk first.
Every unanswered call to Vivien chips away at my happiness until all the negative feelings return to drag me down. I know she got a copy of the paternity report the same time I did, so she’s purposely ignoring me. Too busy flapping over what this’ll do to her precious husband, no doubt. I’ve been relegated to second place again, and I’m full of pent-up emotion I need to vent. So, I call the guys, and we enjoy a late-night jamming session in my home studio as I attempt to paper over the fresh cracks in my heart with music.
When Ash comes racing into the room a few hours later with tears streaming down her face, an ominous sense of foreboding washes over me. Watching the news report of Reeve’s and Vivien’s accident is a sobering moment. As is pacing the floor of the private waiting room at the hospital. I’m terrified she’s going to die before I tell her the truth and before I can make up for all the hurt of the past few weeks. I’m full of self-loathing. Silently berating myself for fucking up again. I’ve put Vivien under enormous stress these past few weeks, and I’m ashamed of how I’ve treated her.
It's selfish of me to sneak back inside to see her after Lauren and Jonathon tell me to leave, but I need to see her with my own eyes. I need to apologize. To tell her I love her and I’m here for her and Easton. To convey how sorry I am she lost her little girl. I’m purposely not thinking about my twin because my feelings when it comes to his death are a clusterfuck of epic proportions. The envelope the detective gave me, with the stack of private photos, is weighing my pocket down. Reeve had someone follow us in Ireland, and I’m finding it hard to have charitable thoughts about my twin right now.
Entering Vivien’s hospital room is the most selfish thing I could’ve done. I wish I’d realized it in time. She thinks I’m him. She thinks I’m Reeve. Until reality comes crashing down on her and she falls apart, hurling hateful words at me that I fullydeserve. I break down in the hallway outside her room, and my best mate has to practically carry me to my car.
“Did you get any sleep?” Ash inquires when I materialize in her kitchen later that same day. They wouldn’t let me go home alone, so we drove here from the hospital, all of us heading to bed to try to grab a few hours of sleep after pulling an all-nighter.
“No,” I quietly admit, scrubbing my hands down my face as I stride to the coffee machine. It was impossible to sleep, no matter how exhausted I am. I just couldn’t switch my brain off. There’s far too much on my mind.
“Me either.” She moves to the fridge, removing a carton of milk as I pour myself a coffee. “Jay is still snoring away. At least one of us managed to sleep.”
“I’ve messed everything up so bad, Ash.” I dump milk in my coffee and claim a stool at the island unit. “Vivien will never forgive me for the part I played in her husband’s and daughter’s death.”
“You aren’t responsible for that, Dillon. It was a tragic accident. Vivien was severely traumatized, and I doubt she’ll even remember anything she said.”
“It doesn’t excuse my actions.” I hang my head in shame.
