My days at the clinic became my refuge. The steady rhythm of work and the quiet reassurance of Dr. Foster’s mentorship gave me a purpose when everything else in my life felt like it was unraveling. Here, I wasn’t just “Emma, the girl with the messy love life.” I was someone with a future, someone trying to make a difference.
It had been a particularly busy afternoon when Dr. Foster handed me a clipboard, her usual warm smile on her face.
“Emma,” she said, “I need you to pull a file for me. It’s for a follow-up appointment tomorrow.”
“Of course,” I said, taking the clipboard. “Which patient?”
“Vanessa.”
Her name sent a jolt through me, but I forced myself to stay calm. “Vanessa Stone?”
Dr. Foster nodded.
I swallowed hard, nodding. “I’ll get it.”
The records room was quiet, the faint hum of fluorescent lights the only sound as I sorted through the neatly labeled files. When I found Vanessa’s, I hesitated for a moment, my fingers trembling slightly.
I shouldn’t look. I knew that. This wasn’t my place.
But the curiosity—the need to know—was overwhelming.
With a deep breath, I opened the file, my eyes scanning the neatly typed notes. At first, it was the usual information: medical history, test results, routine updates. But then I saw it—the section labeled Father.
My heart stopped.
It wasn’t Logan’s name listed under biological father.
It was Professor Mitchell.
I stared at the words, my brain struggling to process what I was seeing. How could this be? Vanessa had told everyone the baby was Logan’s. Logan believed it. I believed it.
But this... this changed everything.
I closed the file quickly, my hands shaking as I shoved it back into the cabinet. My mind raced as I walked back to Dr. Foster’s office, clutching the clipboard tightly.
When I handed it to her, she gave me a brief smile before glancing at the time. “Thank you, Emma. That’s all I’ll need from you today. You can head out early if you’d like.”
I nodded, barely able to mutter a “Thanks” before leaving the clinic.
The walk home felt like a blur. The words in Vanessa’s file kept flashing in my mind, the name Professor Mitchell burned into my memory.
Vanessa had lied.
She’d been manipulating Logan, using him to play the role of the dutiful father. She’d destroyed everything between us, all based on a lie.
Anger boiled inside me as I thought about everything Logan had sacrificed for her. All the time he’d spent trying to do the right thing, all the guilt he’d carried—none of it was deserved.
And me? I’d spent weeks agonizing over Logan’s mistake, believing it had changed our lives forever. But now I knew the truth: Vanessa had been playing us all.
That night, I sat in my room, staring at my phone. I wanted to tell Logan everything, to call him and explain what I’d found. But how would he react? Would he believe me?
A part of me worried that telling him might make things worse. What if he confronted Vanessa and she found a way to twist this around? She was a master manipulator—I’d seen it firsthand.
But Logan deserved to know the truth. He deserved to know he wasn’t the father of her baby.
I picked up my phone, my fingers hovering over his name in my contacts. My heart pounded as I pressed Call.