"I understand."
"The school board will have questions. Parents will have concerns. Your ex-wife will probably use this in whatever custody negotiations you have with Emma." He pauses. "And Robert Wilson is dying. This revelation could literally kill him."
The words hit like a punch to the gut, but I don't flinch. "Robert already knows. I told him the truth weeks ago. As for the rest, I'll deal with the consequences. But I won't let Marcus use my sons as leverage against Mia."
Greg makes notes for several minutes, his expression thoughtful. "Alright. I'll need DNA samples from you and the boys to establish paternity. That's standard procedure even if you're listed as the father on their birth certificates. Once we have confirmation, we can file to amend the birth certificates and petition the court to recognize your parental rights."
"How long will it take?"
"The DNA results? About a week. Filing the paperwork? Another few days. But Jack, once we start this process, there's no going back. Are you absolutely certain?"
"I'm certain."
After leaving Greg's office, I sit in my car for a long moment, staring at the steering wheel. There's one more conversation I need to have before this becomes official. One more bridge to either rebuild or watch burn completely.
The drive to Robert's house feels longer than it should. Every street corner holds memories of our friendship. The bar where we used to watch football games. The park where we'd take ourdaughters when they were young. Twenty years of history, all of it about to be tested by the truth I can no longer hide.
Linda answers the door, her brown eyes widening when she sees me. "Jack. I wasn't expecting you."
"Is Robert well enough for visitors? I need to talk to him."
Something shifts in her expression. Hope, maybe. Or just exhaustion from watching her husband die while her family falls apart. "He's in the living room. He's been asking about you, actually."
That surprises me. "He has?"
"He's been doing a lot of thinking since the hospital." She steps aside to let me in. "Go on. I'll make coffee."
Robert sits in his recliner by the window, and I'm struck by how much stronger he looks than our last encounter. His color is better, his breathing less labored. He's reading something on a tablet, but sets it aside when I enter.
"Jack." His voice is rough but steady. "Sit down."
I settle onto the couch across from him, suddenly aware of how much this moment matters. "I came to tell you something. Something I should have told you ten years ago."
"About Mia and the twins." It's not a question.
"Yes." I lean forward, my elbows on my knees. "That 4th of July night, when Mia was eighteen, we became intimate. I knew it was wrong the moment it happened. She was barely legal, you were my best friend, and I was twice her age. The guilt ate me alive."
Robert's jaw tightens, but he doesn't interrupt.
"When she disappeared, I thought it was because of what we'd done. I searched for her for months. I couldn't explain why I was so desperate to find her without revealing what happened." I meet his eyes directly. "I didn't know about the twins until recently. Mia kept them from me because she was terrified of destroying our friendship and my reputation."
"She was protecting you," Robert says quietly.
"She was protecting everyone but herself." I run my hand through my hair. "I failed you, Robert. I failed as your friend by keeping this secret. But I won't apologize for loving your daughter or for claiming my sons."
The silence stretches between us. Robert's blue eyes, so like Mia's, study my face with an intensity that makes me want to look away. But I hold his gaze, refusing to show weakness.
"Do you love her?" he finally asks. "Truly love her? Or is this just guilt and lust dressed up as something noble?"
The question deserves honesty. "I've been in love with Mia since that night ten years ago. I tried to convince myself it was just attraction, just a mistake I needed to forget. But when she came back, when I saw her again, I knew. I've never been more certain of anything in my life."
Robert's expression softens slightly, the hard edges of his anger smoothing into something more complicated. "I've been lying in that hospital bed thinking about all the time I've wasted being angry. About how I'm dying and I've spent these last weeks pushing away the people I love most."
"Robert ..."
He holds up his hand. "Let me finish. I was angry at the wrong things. Angry that Mia left instead of asking why. Angry that you slept with her instead of understanding that sometimes life doesn't follow the rules we set for it." He pauses, his breathing slightly labored. "Life is too short to waste on grudges, especially when I'm dying."
The words settle over me like absolution I don't deserve. "I don't expect forgiveness."
