“Ethan?” I whispered.
He spun around like he’d been electrocuted, nearly knocking over his chair.
“Anna? What are you doing up?” His face went completely white.
“I could ask you the same thing,” I replied, my voice steadier than I felt.
He stood abruptly. “It’s not what you think. I was just doing freelance work.”
“At two in the morning? Behind a locked door every single night?”
“I can explain everything,” he said quickly.
“Then explain it right now.”
The Truth Comes Out
He sat down slowly, rubbing his face with both hands like he was trying to wake from a nightmare.
“I didn’t want it to be like this.”
“Like what?” I demanded.
He looked at me with glassy eyes. “You’re right. I’ve been lying to you. But not because I don’t love you.”
“I do love you. I just didn’t know how to tell you the truth.”
“Tell me what?” My voice was getting louder now.
He turned the laptop screen toward me. The boy’s photo filled the entire display.
“Who is he?” I asked, though part of me already knew the answer would destroy everything.
Ethan swallowed hard. “He’s my son.”
The Impossible Story
The room tilted. I grabbed the edge of the desk to steady myself.
“I didn’t know about him,” he rushed to explain. “Thirteen years ago, before you and I met, I dated someone named Laura.”
“It wasn’t serious at all. We broke up after a few months. I moved away for work. I never heard from her again.”
“And she never told you she was pregnant?” I asked incredulously.
“She said later that she didn’t want to complicate my life. But a few months ago, she found me online through social media.”
“She’s sick now with an autoimmune disease. Can’t work full-time anymore. And that’s when she told me about him.”
“What’s his name?” I whispered.
“Caleb.”
Processing the Betrayal
“And you just believed her story?” I asked.
“I asked for proof immediately. We did a paternity test through the mail.”
He looked at me steadily. “It’s real, Anna. He’s mine. He’s my biological son.”
I stepped back, dragging my hands through my hair. “So the whole snoring excuse was a complete lie? All of it?”
He winced visibly. “I didn’t want to lie to you. I just didn’t know how to tell you this truth.”
“You’ve already been through so much. The miscarriages, all the fertility treatments, the hormones, the endless appointments. I couldn’t bear to add more pain.”
“So you hid an entire child instead?” I shot back.
“I thought if I handled it quietly on my own, it wouldn’t affect our marriage,” he explained desperately.
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