Chapter 12
So, that was what Sienna had told him. I almost laughed at the absurdity of it. Of course, she would twist the truth just enough to make it sound damning without even bothering to find out what really happened.
“You believe that?” I asked, more incredulous than hurt.
Nathan’s grip tightened around my wrist, and he slammed me against the door to my room. The force made my head spin. “The next day was our wedding,” he growled. “Couldn’t you have avoided him, just for that one night? If you couldn’t let go of him, why did you marry
me?”
His words cut deep, but at this point, I had nothing left to say. I was too exhausted, too drained to defend myself. For years, I had been fighting to make him see me, to make him trust me. But he never did. He always believed what he wanted to believe.
“I thought…” Nathan’s voice cracked slightly, and for a moment, I saw the hurt beneath the anger. “All these years, I thought…”
My head was pounding, and I barely registered the rest of his words. I didn’t care. What difference did it make? In his eyes, I had already been convicted of a crime I didn’t commit
But when he mentioned Oliver, my heart stopped.
“So you just assumed that Oliver was Issca’s child?” I asked, my voice trembling. “Is that why you wanted to-”
“Stop it!” Nathan’s voice was sharp, filled with pain. “What do you mean, ‘assumed‘? Look at
Oliver. What part of him looks like me?”
I looked at him, barely believing what I was hearing. Nathan had only seen Oliver once, and that was when I had begged him–begged him–to come to the hospital. He had stood at a distance, barely glancing at his newborn son. After that, he had been absent, indifferent,
like he didn’t care whether Oliver lived or died.
How would you know what he looks like?” I said, my voice breaking. “You haven’t been
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Giving Up My First Love For Secret Research: Second Chance at Happiness
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hapter 12
around long enough to find out,”
“Näthan stared at me, his expression unreadable. But I didn’t care anymore. I walked to the’ bathroom and picked up one of Oliver’s old toothbrushes. Returning to the room, I handed
it to him.
“Here,” I said flatly. “You can do the test yourself.”
For a moment, Nathan hesitated, his hand hovering over the toothbrush. Then he took it without a word. I walked past him and opened the door, my voice firm but empty. “Now, please leave.”
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