The weight of the truth felt lighter now, but the path forward still felt uncertain. Alyssa had played such a huge part in uncovering the paternity test, but she’d made one thing clear: she didn’t want this to become a public spectacle.
“I don’t want to hurt her more than she’s already hurting,” Alyssa had said softly before she left my house. “I just couldn’t sit by and let her keep lying.”
I’d nodded, understanding her hesitation. I didn’t want to destroy Vanessa, either. She had already been through more than most people could handle. But that didn’t mean I could stay silent.
My only goal was clear now: show Logan the truth.
He deserved to know he wasn’t the father of Vanessa’s baby. He deserved to know that everything he’d been putting himself through—every sacrifice, every compromise—was all for a lie.
And selfishly, I hoped that telling him the truth might give us another chance.
We had been through so much—too much. But deep down, I couldn’t let go of the hope that maybe, just maybe, we could find a way back to each other.
The next day, I spent hours rehearsing what I would say to him. I paced my room, clutching the folded paternity test in my hands, whispering the words under my breath.
I finally worked up the courage to call him that evening. My hands shook as I held the phone to my ear, the dial tone echoing in my mind like a countdown.
He answered on the third ring, his voice cautious. “Emma?”
“Hey,” I said softly, my voice trembling. “Can we talk?”
There was a pause, and I could hear the hesitation in his breath. “Emma, I don’t think—”
“Please,” I interrupted, my voice breaking. “Logan, just... just hear me out. That’s all I’m asking.”
Another pause. Then, finally, “Okay. Where?”
“The park,” I said quickly. “Near the big oak tree.”
“I’ll be there in twenty,” he said before hanging up.
The park was quiet when I arrived, the sun dipping low on the horizon and casting a golden glow over the grass. I sat on the bench beneath the old oak tree, clutching the folded paper in my lap and trying to steady my nerves.
When Logan appeared, walking toward me with his hands shoved into his jacket pockets, my heart clenched. He looked tired, his usual confidence replaced by something heavier—something broken.
“Emma,” he said as he stopped a few feet away. “What’s this about?”
I stood, my legs shaky as I met his eyes. “Logan, I need to tell you something. It’s about Vanessa. About the baby.”
His jaw tightened, and he shook his head. “Emma, we’ve been through this. I don’t want to—”
“Please,” I said quickly, holding up the paper. “Just look at this. Then you can decide if you still want to walk away.”
He hesitated, his eyes flicking to the paper in my hand. Slowly, he reached for it, unfolding it carefully.
I watched as his eyes scanned the page, his expression shifting from confusion to disbelief to something I couldn’t quite name.
“What is this?” he asked, his voice low and sharp.
“It’s the truth,” I said, my voice trembling. “Vanessa’s baby... it’s not yours, Logan. It’s Professor Mitchell’s.”
He stared at me, the paper crumpling slightly in his hands as he clenched his fists. “How did you... where did you get this?”
“Alyssa found it,” I said. “She didn’t mean to, but... Logan, this is real. You’ve been carrying this weight, thinking it’s your responsibility, but it’s not. She lied to you.”
His breathing grew heavier, and he turned away, running a hand through his hair. “I can’t... I can’t believe this,”.
“I’m sorry,” I said, my voice breaking. “I know this hurts, but you needed to know. You deserve to know.”
He turned back to me, his eyes filled with pain and anger and something else—something softer. “Emma...”
I stepped closer, my heart pounding. “Logan, I don’t want to hurt you. I just want you to be free from this. To have a chance at something real. A chance at happiness.”
For a moment, neither of us spoke. The air between us felt heavy, charged with everything we’d been through and everything that still lingered.
“I don’t know what to do…” he muttered, his gaze fixed on the document.
“You have the truth,” I said, “What you do with it is up to you. I know you want to fix things, but you can’t fix something you didn’t break.”
With that, I turned and walked away.