Chapter 354
[ 537 words ]
Chapter 354:
Her mother. The mention of Vivian—her mother, whose death was still a raw, gaping wound in Caroline’s heart, whose funeral she had just arranged days ago—sent a fresh wave of agony through her. Her mother had known. Her mother had kept this secret. And now she was gone, taking any chance of an explanation with her.
“I don’t believe you,” Caroline said, her voice trembling but gaining a sharp, dangerous edge. “My father was Walter Thompson. He raised me. He loved me. He is the only father I have ever known or will ever know.”
Donovan took a step closer, and she instinctively stepped back, her body rigid with defensive tension. He stopped immediately, raising his hands in a placating gesture.
“I understand this is a shock,” he said, his voice carefully controlled. “And I am not asking you to accept me as your father. Not yet. But I need you to hear the truth. Your mother and I… we had a relationship, many years ago. Before she married Walter. She was pregnant with you when they wed.”
𝘛𝗿𝘦ոdіng ո𝗼𝘷е𝘭ѕ о𝗇 𝗴а𝗹ո𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗅s.c𝗼m
The words hit her like physical blows, each one a negation of the life she thought she’d lived. Her breath came in short, sharp gasps. The grief for her mother, still so fresh, curdled into something darker—a sense of betrayal so profound it threatened to swallow her whole.
“I have spent years looking for you,” Donovan continued, his voice softening. “Your mother… she cut off all contact. Walter made it clear I was not welcome. I respected that. But now, with both of them gone…” He paused, his jaw tightening. “I wanted to meet you. To know you. I’m not asking for anything more than a chance to talk.”
Caroline’s eyes burned with unshed tears. Her voice, when she finally spoke, was barely above a whisper, but it was laced with a fury that surprised even her.
“He’s not just gone. He’s dead. My father—my real father—died. And my mother just died. Days ago. I just buried her. And you show up now, on his doorstep, expecting what? Gratitude? A tearful reunion?”
The venom in her words clearly stung him. He straightened, his face a mask of carefully controlled regret. “I expect nothing. I only hoped…”
“You hoped wrong.” Caroline cut him off, her voice rising. “You weren’t there when I had a fever so high I was delirious. You didn’t teach me how to ride a bike. You weren’t in the front row cheering when I graduated. What right do you have to show up now and call yourself my father?”
The rapid-fire questions, each one a memory of a love he had no part in, hit him like physical blows. He stood there, speechless, his face a mask of regret and helplessness.
Caroline’s chest heaved. Her hands were shaking. She pointed toward the street, toward his gleaming SUV.
“Leave,” she said, her voice cold and final. “I don’t want your explanations. I don’t want your proof. I don’t want anything from you.”
Donovan took a deep, steadying breath. He knew he had lost this battle. Pushing further would only cause more damage. He reached into the inner pocket of his suit jacket and pulled out a thick, elegant business card. He held it out to Caroline.
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