Father Disowns Newborn Baby And Accuses Wife Of Cheating, Then Wife Does This
Riverton Diagnostics looked painfully ordinary—gray brick, glass doors, a neat blue sign. It might have been a dentist’s office. Or a bank. Not the place where you went to blow your life apart.
Inside, the lobby smelled of disinfectant and printer ink. A television in the corner played a muted morning show. A woman behind the desk glanced up with a professional smile.
“Good morning. How can I help you?”
Emily stepped up, steadying her voice. “I’m looking for James Parker. He had an appointment here.”
The receptionist tapped at her keyboard, eyes flicking across the screen. “He checked in early this morning,” she said. “He’s already been seen and discharged.”
Something hollowed out inside Emily. “So he went through with it,” she murmured.
“I’m sorry?” the woman asked.
“Nothing.” Emily swallowed. “How long until he gets his results?”
“Typically within twenty-four hours,” the receptionist replied. “We contact the client directly with the findings.”
Twenty-four hours. Enough time to decide the fate of her marriage with a single call.
Emily turned to leave—and froze.
James stood just beyond the glass doors, shoulders hunched, hands shoved deep in his jacket pockets. He stared at the ground, rain dripping from his hair.
For a moment, neither of them moved.
Then Emily pushed the door open, the bell above it chiming too cheerfully for the weight in her chest.
He looked up. “Emily…”
“You actually did it,” she said. The words vibrated in the air between them.
His jaw worked. “I needed to know.”
“Know what?” she shot back. “Whether your wife is a liar? Whether your daughter is someone else’s mistake?”
He flinched. “Not here,” he said quietly, glancing around the nearly empty lot.
“Why not?” Her voice cracked. “You didn’t mind walking out on us in the middle of the night.”
“Em, please,” he said, dropping his tone. “I’m not trying to hurt you.”
“What exactly do you think this is, James?” she whispered. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks a lot like you chose a lab slip over us.”
He looked past her, rain beading on his lashes. “I just need the truth,” he said. “I need something solid.”
“The truth?” she repeated. “Here it is: you left your newborn and your wife without even asking me a single question.”
His lips parted, but no words came.
She shook her head, backing away. “You’ll get your truth soon enough,” she said. “I just hope you’re ready for what it costs.”
She strapped the baby into her car, hands shaking. In the rearview mirror, as she pulled away, she could still see him standing there—small and lost in the rain, waiting for an answer he already believed.
