Mag-log inThe first message came less than two hours after Brenda sent the letter.I was in the kitchen warming Daniel’s food when my phone started vibrating non-stop on the counter. Adrian picked it up, glanced at the screen, and his face changed.“It’s him.”He put it on speaker and set it down between us.Damien’s voice came through already loud.“So it was Vale.”Neither of us spoke.“That night you left the house, the night you came back late, it was Adrian Vale. You were with him.”I stared at the phone. Adrian stayed silent, letting me decide whether to answer.Damien kept going. “All this time. All the letters. The lawyers. And the whole time the child was his. You let me believe—”“I didn’t let you believe anything,” I said. My voice was steadier than I expected. “You decided on your own. You pushed. You threatened. You made it about you.”“You slept with my boss the same night you came home to me.”“Yes.”The word sat there, plain.Damien laughed once, short and ugly. “You must think
“The results are clear,” Brenda said. “Damien Blackwood is not the father.”For a second the room went completely still.I stared at her. “What?”Brenda looked at me carefully. “Damien is not the biological father of Daniel.”I sat forward. “That doesn’t make sense.”Adrian’s hand moved like he wanted to reach for me, but I pulled back slightly without thinking.“I slept with both of them the same night,” I said. My voice sounded strange in my own ears. “How can you be so sure it’s not him?”Brenda opened the folder a little wider. “The lab result is conclusive. The probability that Damien is the father is zero. The match is with Adrian.”I shook my head. “No. Wait. That night… I was with Adrian first. Then I went home. Damien and I…” I couldn’t finish the sentence. Heat rushed up my neck. “It was the same night. How do they know it’s not Damien’s?”Brenda’s tone stayed even. “Because the genetic markers don’t match Damien at all. They match Adrian completely. The lab doesn’t deal in
The party was small on purpose.My parents drove in early Saturday morning. My mother came with too much food, the way she always did. My father carried the cake and pretended he wasn’t emotional about his grandson turning one. Adrian had cleared the living room so Daniel could move around without bumping into furniture. A few balloons were tied to the chairs. Nothing loud. Nothing big.Daniel didn’t care about any of it.He spent most of the morning practising his new steps, holding onto the sofa, then letting go for three or four wobbly paces before falling on his butt and laughing. Every time he got up again my father clapped like it was the first time he had ever seen a child walk. My mother kept trying to feed him pieces of fruit he wasn’t interested in.Adrian stayed close but didn’t hover. He let my parents have their moments. Every now and then Daniel would look around, find Adrian, and crawl or walk straight to him like that was the most natural thing in the world. Watching i
A month passed before anything changed.In that time the letters kept coming, but they started to sound tired. Brenda answered every one the same way. We were not refusing the test. We were simply not doing it before Daniel turned one. The other side pushed, complained, and tried to make it look like I was being difficult on purpose. Then, one Tuesday morning, Brenda called.I was at the shop when her name came up on my phone. I stepped into the small back room and closed the door.“They’ve agreed,” she said.I stared at the wall. “Agreed to what?”“To wait. They’re withdrawing the request for an early hearing. The formal position now is that the test will be done after the child turns one, unless both sides agree otherwise before then.”For a second I didn’t say anything.“Sophia?”“I’m here. They just… gave up?”“For now, yes. They know the court wasn’t going to force it this early. Continuing to push would only make them look unreasonable. So they’re saving their energy for later.”
I said it while we were still in the kitchen.Daniel was in his high chair, hitting the tray with a spoon. Adrian was making coffee. I was standing by the counter when it just came out of my mouth.“I’m not doing any test until he turns one.”Adrian looked over. “What?”“The paternity test. I’m not taking him for it until he’s at least one year old. I don’t care what Damien or his lawyers say.”He put the kettle down. “You sure?”“Yes. He’s still too small. I’m not dragging him for blood or swabs or whatever they do just because Damien wants to prove something.”Adrian rubbed the back of his neck and nodded. “Alright. We’ll tell Brenda.”“You’re not going to argue?”“No. If that’s what you want, that’s what we’ll do.”I watched him for a second. He was already reaching for his phone, probably to message the lawyer. No long talk. No trying to change my mind. Just quiet agreement.Daniel banged the spoon again and laughed at the noise. I turned to wipe his mouth and felt some of the tig
Daniel turned five months old on a quiet Sunday.We didn’t throw a party. We just sat in the living room with a small cake my mother had sent, and Adrian took too many pictures. Daniel had started rolling over properly. He laughed when Adrian made faces at him. The apartment felt full in a way that no longer surprised me.Life had settled into a workable rhythm. I went to the shop four mornings a week. The nanny came in for those hours. Adrian still worked long days, but he came home at a reasonable time more often than not. We didn’t talk about Bella anymore. That incident had closed the way it needed to.I should have known the quiet wouldn’t last.It started with a letter.I found it on a Thursday afternoon when I got back from the shop. Adrian was still at the office. The nanny had left Daniel sleeping in his cot. On the entrance table was a thick envelope with a law firm’s name printed on the front. It was addressed to me.I already knew who it was from before I opened it.Damien







