Chapter 1 - The Best Man
The silence in the ballroom was so absolute, so heavy, that you could hear the ice melting in my mother’s shattered wine glass.
Natalie stared at the piece of paper in my hand. Her confident, victorious smile had completely dissolved, replaced by the pale, hollow look of a ghost. She blinked rapidly, her eyes darting from the laboratory seal to my face, searching for a bluff.
But I don’t bluff. The military taught me that. You only point a weapon if you intend to fire.
"Read it," I commanded, my voice echoing through the microphone.
Natalie’s hands shook so violently she couldn’t hold the paper. It fluttered to the floor. Grant, ever the professional, simply pulled out a second copy from his red folder and handed it directly to Eric.
Eric had been frozen near the DJ booth. He looked at the paper. I watched his eyes scan the lines. I watched his chest stop moving. I watched his entire world implode in real-time.
"Zero percent probability," Eric whispered. The microphone picked up his voice. It cracked. "I'm... I'm not the father."
"No, Eric," I said smoothly. "You're not. You threw away a ten-year marriage for a woman who was cheating on her affair partner."
A gasp ripped through the crowd of three hundred people. My father was now clutching his chest; my mother was openly sobbing, supported by my aunt.
"Who?" Eric suddenly roared, his face turning an ugly shade of purple. He lunged toward Natalie, grabbing her by the shoulders. "Who is it, Nat?! You told me it was mine! You told me we were going to be a family!"
"It's a fake!" Natalie shrieked, tears ruining her expensive makeup. "She printed this to ruin us, Eric! She's jealous!"
"It’s not fake," Grant’s deep voice cut through the chaos. He stepped forward. "I collected the DNA myself. A discarded coffee cup from Natalie, a water bottle from Eric, and a wine glass from the man sitting at Table Four."
Every single head in the ballroom snapped toward Table Four.
Table Four was the VIP table. The table for our closest friends.
Sitting there, frozen with a piece of dinner roll halfway to his mouth, was Marcus.
Marcus. Eric’s best friend since college. The best man at our wedding. The man who had given a toast an hour ago about how "true love conquers all."
"Marcus?" Eric’s voice was barely a squeak.
Marcus dropped the roll. He stood up, knocking his chair backward. He didn't look at Eric. He looked directly at Natalie. "You told me you were on the pill," he hissed.
Natalie covered her face and wailed.
May you like
I handed the microphone back to the DJ, smoothed my dress one last time, and looked at my soon-to-be ex-husband. "Happy anniversary, Eric. You two deserve each other."
I turned my back on the screaming, the crying, and the chaos, and walked out of the ballroom. Grant walked right behind me, like a shadow.
