The Truth
At the reception, I stayed near the back wall. Eventually, Mark approached. “Can we talk?” he asked.
“I think you’ve said enough.”
“Please. Five minutes. I’m not the Mark you think I am.”
He led me outside. “I’m finally ready to tell you the truth. I’ve been waiting more than 20 years.”
I frowned. “What?”
“I’m Mark Jr.,” he said. “Your Mark—my dad—is Mark Sr. He had me right after you left for college.”
The world tilted. I stared at his face—my ex’s face, just younger—and everything clicked.
He explained how his father kept an album of me, how he grew up hearing about “the one that got away” more than hearing “I’m proud of you.” Out of spite, he swiped right on Emily, recognizing her resemblance to me. At first, it was revenge. But then he fell for her. “The revenge idea died,” he said. “The lie didn’t.”
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