Chapter 16
Cadi collapsed back onto the couch, her limbs heavy, her body drained of everything but the sharp, aching emptiness that had settled in her chest.
She tipped her head back and stared at the ceiling.
The chandelier was beautiful even when it wasn't lit up, its iron frame encircling flickering candle-like bulbs, the ropes suspending it adding a rustic elegance. It was the kind of thing she and Gray had once loved picking out together—things that made their home feel warm, lived in. Safe.
But nothing felt safe anymore.
A chair scraped against the floor.
Gray was fidgeting now, shifting in his seat, his knee bouncing. She didn't have to look at him to know he was growing restless. Irritated. He had never been good at sitting in silence, at waiting.
He leaned forward, inhaled like he was about to restart the conversation—
"You can have your divorce."
Her voice sliced through the room, calm and precise.
Gray went still.
Cadi didn't move, didn't lift her head from where she was still gazing at the ceiling. "I will contact my lawyer, and you will contact yours."
There was a beat of silence.
Then Gray scoffed. "That's it, then? Just like that?"
Cadi ignored him. "But first, we have the pesky DNA test."
Gray stiffened.
She finally looked at him, catching the flicker of something in his expression. Shock. She had pre-empted him—she could see it in his face. He had been planning to demand it, but now she had beaten him to it.
Cadi tilted her head, her voice almost clinical. "In the interest of you not accusing me of tampering with it, we have two options. We can do a home test—you choose the brand, you administer it—or we can go to the courts and have it done officially."
She leaned forward, her icy gaze locking onto his. "Either way, I don't want to have another paternity conversation until it's done."
Gray's hands clenched.
A tendril of doubt slithered into his mind, unwelcome and unnerving.
What if...?
No. No.
He had seen them together. The way she and Callum were—he knew. There was no other explanation. The unspoken chemistry, the way Callum was always there, the way Tomos looked nothing like him. He had proof.
Didn't he?
He started to speak, to push back, to say something that would put the power back in his hands—
"I think I'll be visiting the sexual health clinic," Cadi said coolly, cutting him off again. "You should as well."
Gray's mouth snapped shut.
"Though you don't want to have anything to do with Tomos at the moment, that is going to change." She tilted her head, voice razor-sharp. "We don't want any unknown germs around the house."
Gray's face turned red.
But before he could react, Cadi pressed on, her voice smooth and measured.
"You've had your chance to talk. Now it's my turn."
She leaned back, crossing one leg over the other.
"As for Callum?" Her lips curled into something that might have been a smirk if there had been any humour left in her. "Well, you'll just have to wait and see."
Gray's fingers twitched where they rested on his knees. He had come into this conversation feeling certain, feeling justified, feeling angry—
But now, everything was slipping through his fingers like grains of sand.
"We will have that conversation after the DNA test."
She stood up.
"Now, I'm going to pack my bags and Tomos'. We will be staying at Callum's place until the results come in."
Gray jerked his head up. "Ya can't just—"
"Don't contact me," Cadi interrupted, already walking toward the stairs. "Except to let me know when and where you want to do the test. A message is enough. Don't call."
She reached the first step before pausing. Then she turned back, as if something had just occurred to her.
"Wait five more minutes, then you can go back to your beloved Vanessa."
Gray's fists clenched.
"I have something you may want to have."
Then she turned and walked up the stairs.
Gray sat frozen.
Something about the way she said it sent an eerie sensation crawling down his spine.
He heard drawers open and close, then silence.
Upstairs, Cadi stood in the walk-in closet, staring blankly at the shelves before pulling out a stool. Her hands shook slightly as she climbed up and pulled down a dusty box from the highest shelf.
She sat on the stool, flipping through the old photo album with mechanical movements, barely processing the images—until she reached the page she was looking for.
Her fingers hesitated over the plastic sleeve before carefully sliding the picture out.
Then she went a little further, plucking another from deeper inside.
When she looked up, Gray was in the doorway.
His expression was guarded now, no longer angry, but wary.
"What is this?" His voice was quieter than before, as if he were trying not to startle a wild animal.
Cadi stood, crossing the room, the photos pressed between her fingers.
"I saved them from your mom's attic after her funeral. I know you wanted to throw them away...but I thought you may want to keep this ."she sighed before she straightened her spine .
"While you're on your crusade for justice," she said, her voice unreadable, "you should take a close look at this."
She handed him the two photos.
Gray took it hesitantly, his fingers stiff.
He had never seen this picture before. It took him a minute to recognise the faces. Of a life he would like to pretend never happened.
His stomach twisted the moment he saw it.
His mother—young, barely in her twenties—holding a small boy of about two in her arms. The same stiff, guarded smile. The same wary tension in her eyes. The boy was pale, grumpy, with bright blond hair.
Gray stared at it, his throat tightening.
It was him.
He flipped to the second photo.
His hands tensed.
The first day of school.
His mother had insisted on taking a picture at the end of the day. Cadi was there, holding his hand, grinning with her messy auburn curls. An arrow of pain pierced his heart ,looking at her young beloved face. Ana had squeezed in next to her, making a face. Gray himself stood stiffly beside them, his expression sullen, his brown school shoes scuffed, his darker blond hair catching the light.
A strand of cold slipped down his spine.
Gray swallowed hard and forced himself to glance back at the first picture.
The small boy.
The blond hair ,slowly darkening to brown.
His stomach dropped. He felt slightly lightheaded.
Cadi's voice was almost thoughtful when she spoke.
"Maybe you should've paid more attention to your internal medicine and genetics classes, Gray."
He jerked his head up, but her expression didn't change.
Then, her lips twisted slightly, her voice turning sharp and laced with contempt.
"Oh, but I forgot." She let out a soft, humourless laugh. "Why waste time on things like basic genetics when you could be perfecting your god complex and flexing your muscles in the OR for your mistress?"
Gray's fists clenched, his face heating.
He didn't want to see it.
Didn't want to acknowledge it.
But the resemblance was unmistakable.
Tomos' face had changed. Now that he was almost six ,he looked like neither Cadi nor him.
But he looked exactly like Gray at two.
Not Callum.
Him.
Gray inhaled sharply, gripping the edges of the photos like they might disappear.
But when he lifted his eyes again, Cadi wasn't watching him anymore.
She had already turned away, moving to the closet, pulling down suitcases.
Her movements were robotic, methodical. Like she was already gone.
And for the first time since this all began, Gray felt something foreign twist inside his chest.
Fear.