“I didn’t do anything!” Lauren cried, her voice raw and desperate, her eyes pleading with me. “James, you have to believe me! I’ve never been with anyone else!”
The weight of her words hit me, but so did the doubt. I couldn’t breathe. “I need air,” I muttered, turning toward the door, my legs moving before I could think.
“James, please!” Lauren’s voice cracked, echoing behind me. “Don’t leave me! I swear, you’re the only one I’ve ever loved!”
Her desperation stopped me cold. I turned back, seeing the woman I’d loved for years, the one who’d stood by me through every struggle. Could she really be lying? My heart screamed no, but my head wasn’t so sure.
“Lauren,” I said, my voice softer but shaking, “this doesn’t add up. How do you explain this?”
“I don’t know!” she sobbed. “But I swear, James, it’s you. Only you.”
I looked at our daughter’s dark skin and curls again, really looked. Her dark skin and curls were still a shock, but then I saw it—her eyes, just like mine. A tiny dimple on her left cheek, like the one I saw in the mirror every day.
I stepped closer, touching Lauren’s tear-streaked face. “I’m here,” I said, my voice breaking. “I don’t understand this, but I’m not leaving. We’ll figure it out together.”
She collapsed against me, crying, and I held her and our daughter as tightly as I could. We stayed like that until Lauren’s exhaustion from labor and the shock took over, and she started to drift off.
“I need a second,” I murmured, easing away. “I’ll be right back.”
Her eyes, red and scared, followed me. She was afraid I wouldn’t return, but I couldn’t stay in that room with my thoughts spinning.
In the hallway, I took a deep breath, but it didn’t help. I needed answers, not air.
“James!” My mother’s voice cut through, sharp and cold. She stood by the window, arms crossed, her face hard with disapproval—the look that used to scare me as a kid.
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