Lily gasped. “Why are you wearing my mommy’s necklace?”
I smiled softly. “Oh, sweetheart, this one’s mine.
Maybe your mommy just has one that looks similar.”
She shook her head. “No, it’s the same one! Mommy said when I grow up, she’ll give it to me.”
My heart started pounding.
I smiled so she wouldn’t see how my hands trembled. “That’s really sweet of her.”
But inside, I was shaking. That necklace wasn’t something you could just buy.
It was part of Ethan’s family tradition, a gold pendant made for every woman in the family when she got pregnant for the first time. Each one was custom made, identical in design, impossible to find anywhere else. Ethan had given me mine a month after we found out I was expecting.
He’d said it symbolized the beginning of our family, our future together. I touched the pendant, feeling cold all over. My mind started connecting pieces I didn’t want to see.
When Hannah came back from her interview, Lily was already asleep. I’d just tucked her in, careful not to wake her. Hannah walked in, still wearing her neat blazer, her cheeks slightly flushed from the cold air.
“How did it go?” I asked, trying to sound calm. “I think it went well,” she said, smiling nervously. “I have a good feeling about it.”
“I’m really happy for you,” I said, forcing a smile.
There was a pause. I looked at her, at the small golden glint peeking from under her sweater. “Hannah, can I ask you something a little strange?”
“Sure, what is it?”
“Could you show me your necklace?” I asked.
She blinked, confused but not suspicious, and pulled the pendant out from under her sweater. The second I saw it, the air left my lungs. It was identical to mine.
My eyes filled with tears. “Hannah,” I whispered, “is Ethan Lily’s father?”
Her mouth opened, but no words came out. For a long moment, she just stood there, pale and silent.
“I was hoping you’d never find out,” she said quietly. “I wanted to believe it wasn’t true. God, I really did.”
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered.
“I never meant to hurt you. Like I told you, I don’t want anything from him. I just hope… he’ll be a better father to your baby than he was to mine.”
“That’s not right.
You should demand child support, at least. He doesn’t get to walk away from this.”
“I don’t want to ruin your family,” she said. “You’re not the one ruining it,” I said bitterly.
“He did that all by himself.”
I wiped my eyes and took a shaky breath. “Where did you get the necklace then, if he never admitted Lily was his?”
“From his mother. It was hers.
She said she couldn’t give me money to keep quiet, so she gave me this instead. Told me to sell it if I needed cash.”
“That’s disgusting. What kind of person does that?”
“I couldn’t sell it,” she said softly.
“I wanted Lily to have it one day.”
I nodded slowly. “You did the right thing. Now he won’t be able to deny anything.”
By the time Ethan came home that evening, I’d already packed his things.
His suitcases stood by the door, neatly stacked beside his shoes. When the door opened and he saw them, he froze.“What’s going on?” he asked. “I know,” I said simply.
“I know you’re Lily’s father.”
His face went pale. “Grace, please, it’s not—”
“Don’t,” I cut him off. “I don’t want to hear it.
I can’t even look at you right now.”
“Grace, it was a mistake. A stupid, one-time thing—”
“You call your daughter a mistake?” I shouted. “I didn’t mean it like that!” he said quickly.
“It was before us, before we got married. I swear, after that, I never—”
I laughed bitterly. “You think I’m stupid?
You cheated on me right when we started dating, when we had just moved into this house. And then you watched her raise your child next door like nothing happened.”
He didn’t answer. “I’m done,” I said.
“I’m not raising my child with a liar who runs from his own daughter.”
“Grace, please,” he said. “We can fix this.”
“No,” I said firmly. “You don’t fix betrayal.
You own it. You take responsibility, something you clearly never learned how to do.”
He clenched his fists. “You’re not serious about the divorce.”
“I’m already filing for it,” I said.
“And I’ll make sure Hannah gets a lawyer too. You’ll pay child support for both children. That’s the least you owe.”
“You wouldn’t dare,” he snapped.
I met his eyes. “Watch me.”
He stared at me for a long moment, then grabbed his suitcase and stormed out, slamming the door so hard the walls shook. I stood there for a while, breathing heavily, then pressed my hands against my belly.
The baby kicked gently, as if reminding me I wasn’t alone. I whispered, “I promise, little one, I’ll raise you to be nothing like your father.”
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