That changed everything.
Robert had always been the quiet one—sharp, composed, not easily shaken. He was also extremely wealthy. Old money, investments, properties—the whole legacy.
And suddenly, Patricia became obsessed.
“We have to think about the family legacy.”
I knew exactly what she meant.
One evening, Dave came home looking pale and sick. We were in the kitchen. Sam was in the living room, building a blanket fort and loudly announcing that a dragon had stolen his socks.
Dave leaned against the counter and said, “Mom talked to Dad.”
I set down the spoon. “About what?”
He rubbed his face. “About Sam.”
I stared at him. “No.”
He didn’t answer right away—which told me everything.
“Tell me exactly what she said,” I pressed.
He exhaled slowly. “She thinks Dad should ask for a paternity test.”
I laughed—but not because it was funny. It was disbelief.
“A paternity test. For our son.”
“She says if there’s ever a dispute over the estate—”
“There won’t be a dispute unless she creates one.”
“I know.”
“No, Dave. Do you? Because she has been accusing me of cheating on you for five years, and now she’s trying to turn it into legal paperwork.”
He looked miserable. “Dad doesn’t want drama.”
“Your mother is drama in a cashmere sweater.”
Then he said the part that truly set me on fire.
“Mom told him that if we refuse, he may want to reconsider the will.”
I stood there for a moment, very still. Then I said calmly, “Fine.”
Dave looked up. “Fine?”
“Let’s do the test.”
Relief flooded his face—which somehow made me even angrier.
“But not just a basic one,” I added.
He frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I mean if your mother wants science, she’s getting science. Full family matching. The extended panel.”
He blinked. “Why?”
Because I was furious. Because I had nothing to hide. Because something deep inside me wanted every hidden truth dragged into the light.
So I said simply, “Because I’m done being polite.”
He studied me for a moment, then nodded. “Okay.”
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