“Are you okay?” he finally asked. I stared out the window. “No.
I need answers.”
And I was fully aware of where to find them. I didn’t think twice when we pulled up to my dad’s house. I bounded on the door and strode up the stairs.
He opened it, his face lined with surprise. “Hey, what are you doing here?”
“I went to the orphanage,” I said, my voice shaking with fury. “They don’t have any record of me.
Why would they say that?”
For a moment, he didn’t move. Then, he let out a long, weary sigh and stepped back. “Come in.”
I barely waited for him to sit down before I demanded, “Tell me the truth.
Right now.”
He rubbed a hand over his face, looking suddenly older. “I knew this day would come.”
“What are you talking about?” I snapped. “Why did you li:e to me?”
He was silent for so long that my pulse roared in my ears.
Then, in a voice so low I almost didn’t hear him, he said the words that shattered everything I had ever known. “You weren’t adopted. You’re your mother’s child… but not mine.”
My heart stopped.
“What?”
“She had an affair,” he admitted, his voice bitter. “When she got pregnant, she begged me to stay. I agreed, but I couldn’t look at you without seeing what she did to me.
So I made up the adoption story.”
The room spun. “You… you li:ed to me for my entire life?”
For illustrative purposes only
He wouldn’t meet my eyes. “I was angry.
I thought… maybe if you believed you weren’t mine, it would be easier for me to accept. Maybe I wouldn’t hate her so much. It was stupid.
I’m sorry.”
I was shaking. “You fa:ked the adoption papers?”
“Yes.”
The betrayal was suffocating. The teasing, the comments, the orphanage visits—it was never about me.
It was about him. His pain. His resentment.
I stood up, my legs unsteady beneath me. “I can’t do this,” I whispered. “I was just a kid.
I didn’t deserve this.”
“I know,” he said, his voice breaking. “I know I failed you.”
Matt stood too, his jaw tight as he glared at my father. “Come on,” he said softly.
“Let’s go.”
As we walked to the door, my dad’s voice called after me. “I’m sorry! I really am!”
But I didn’t turn around.
For the first time in my life, I was walking away from the past. And this time, I wasn’t looking back. Note: This story is a work of fiction inspired by real events.
Names, characters, and details have been altered. Any resemblance is coincidental. The author and publisher disclaim accuracy, liability, and responsibility for interpretations or reliance.
All images are for illustration purposes only.
