After the test was taken, we waited in the hospital’s small café. Kenzie, hesitant, finally spoke.
“What was my mom like?”
A smile touched my lips as I thought back. “She was something special. Her laugh could light up a room.
We were young, but I truly thought I’d marry her.”
Kenzie gave a sad smile. “She taught me how to dance.”
When the nurse finally approached with the results, my heart pounded in my chest. I unfolded the paper with trembling hands.
99.9% probability of paternity.
“Kenzie… you’re my daughter,” I whispered, my voice thick with emotion.
Kenzie let out a small, relieved laugh before throwing her arms around me.
“I’m sorry,” I choked out, hugging her tightly. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there.”
“You didn’t know,” she whispered back. “You couldn’t have known.”
Jenna wiped at her damp eyes.
“What now?”
I smiled at Kenzie, warmth finally replacing the cold that had surrounded us. “How do you feel about pizza?”
Kenzie grinned, and at that moment, we weren’t just three strangers—we were family.
