Chapter 8
Molly
I start crying first. Then I start screaming.
"You lying son of a bitch!" The words tear out of me, two years of swallowed frustration and loneliness and fear exploding all at once. "You've had this for SEVEN MONTHS? You've known since DECEMBER?"
"Molly, please—" he says.
"Don't you dare tell me to be quiet!" I'm shaking so hard the hospital bed is rattling. "You stood in front of everyone at that barbecue and said you didn't believe it was yours. You looked me in the eye and said you were waiting to prove it. And you had this—you had PROOF—"
"I don't believe it's real—" he tries.
"THEN WHY DID YOU KEEP IT?" I snatch Clementine back from his arms, clutching her against my chest. "Why did you carry it to the hospital in your jacket pocket like some kind of—of talisman?"
A nurse appears in the doorway. "Is everything okay in here?"
"I need a minute," I say. "Please."
She stays near the doorway.
Taz is still on his knees beside the bed, palms out, the way he'd approach a spooked mare. "I brought it for the independent lab. So they could check the original report, compare it to—"
"You had seven months!" I'm crying so hard I can barely see him. "You had seven months to do that, Taz. Seven months to go to any lab in the country and prove it was fake. Why didn't you?"
"A collector came to the house," he says quietly. "Jensen arranged the appointment and the collection." He runs a hand through his hair. "I think it's fake, Molly. I think it's all fake."
"You think."
"I called the number on the report. They said they couldn't discuss results without Kendall present. I don't even know who I actually talked to." He looks at me, and I see it—the fear. "I asked for a second maternal blood draw. Kendall refused. Jensen said it wasn't safe during pregnancy."
"And you believed that?"
"I asked my own doctor last week. He said a maternal blood draw wasn't the invasive procedure Jensen had described. Said an infant test is just a cheek swab." He swallows. "I could have called him months ago. I could have verified any of this months ago."
"Then why didn't you?"
Silence.
"Because you were scared of the answer," I say flatly. "So you hid it. From me. While I was pregnant with your actual child."
He doesn't deny it.
"I should have pushed harder." His voice breaks. "I know that. I know I failed. But Molly, I swear to you, I don't believe I did anything with her. The night of that dinner in Santa Barbara, I had one drink and I passed out. I woke up alone. I don't remember anything."
"The Santa Barbara dinner." I force myself to think back. "That was—that was last autumn. The overnight trip."
"The dinner Jensen arranged. Kendall was there.
" He scrubs both hands over his face, and I notice they're shaking.
"She ordered me a glass of wine. I don't remember anything after that, Molly.
Nothing. I woke up alone in the dark in my hotel room, sick, with all my clothes on, and I assumed I'd caught a stomach bug. "
He shakes his head. "I should have known it wasn't a stomach bug. One drink doesn't knock me out like that. But I was tired, and I didn't want to think about it, so I just—" He stops. Swallows. "I buried it."
"Like you buried the paternity test," I say.
His head drops. "I didn't want to believe it was possible."
He looks up at me, and his eyes are red-rimmed and desperate. "I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought if I just kept her calm, I could figure out the truth without dragging you into it. I didn't want to hurt you with a claim that might not even be real."
"Taz, you left me alone in this marriage for YEARS.
Long before Kendall showed up. Long before any of this happened.
You've been choosing your company, your family name, your endless obligations over me since the day we moved to LA.
I've been waiting—" My voice cracks. "I've been waiting for a baby to bring you back to me.
Because I thought maybe then you'd finally see me again. "
He flinches like I've hit him.
"And instead, I got pregnant, and you disappeared even more.
And it wasn't to work. It was to HER. Holding her hand through every appointment I should have had you beside me for.
Taking her calls at two in the morning while I threw up alone.
Missing the scan where I found out we're having a daughter—" I look down at Clementine, at her tiny scrunched face, and my chest cracks open.
"You didn't even know her name until right now. Did you?"
"No." The word is barely a whisper. "You never told me."
"Because you were never HERE to tell." I wipe my face with the back of my hand, smearing tears across my cheeks. "I picked her name alone, Taz. Just like I did everything else alone. And you want me to believe you were just trying to protect me?"
He doesn't answer right away. When he speaks again, his voice is raw.
"I didn't cheat on you," he says, each word slow and careful. "I know you have no reason to believe me, but I didn't. Whatever that paper says, whatever Kendall claims, I did not touch her. The only woman I have been with in our marriage is you."
I remember that day. The last warm Saturday we had together, before everything went cold. His hands on my skin. His mouth on my throat. The way he held me after, like he was afraid to let go.
"You didn't cheat with your body," I say slowly. "But you cheated with everything else."
He stares at me. "What?"
"Your time, your attention, your honesty.
" I count them off on my fingers. "You decided what I could handle.
You made choices that affected both of us without ever asking what I wanted.
You left me alone in our own marriage, Taz.
That's a betrayal. Maybe not the kind everyone thinks of when they hear the word, but it's still a betrayal. "
"You're right." He reaches for my hand, and I let him take it because I'm too tired to pull away. "You're right, Molly. And I'm sorry. I'm so goddamn sorry."
"Sorry doesn't fix anything." I look at the paper still crumpled in my other fist. "What are you going to do about this?"
"I'm arranging an independent test," he says, straightening.
"A real one, from a lab I choose myself, with the lab collecting and tracking the samples itself.
I asked for it this week. My lawyer is arranging consent with Kendall and the collection with Hudson's team.
It's a cheek swab, not another blood draw. Jensen isn't handling it."
"And if it comes back positive?" I ask.
He meets my eyes. "Then I'll deal with it. But I don't believe it will."
I don't know what to believe anymore. I'm exhausted, wrung out, hollowed by labor and heartbreak and too many months of silent suffering. Clementine is asleep against my chest, her breath warm and steady, oblivious to the wreckage of her parents' marriage happening around her.
"Here's what's going to happen," I say finally. "You're going to leave this room. You're going to go back to the guest room at the house, or to a hotel, or to Topa Ridge, I don't care. But you're not staying here tonight."
"Molly—" he begins.
"I'm not done." I hold up my hand. "If you want to be part of HER life—" I look down at Clementine. "If you want to be her father, to actually be present for her the way you weren't present for me, then you will be here on discharge morning. Seven AM. Ready to help me take MY baby home."
"I'll be here," he says immediately. "Molly, I'll be here. I promise."
"You've made a lot of promises." I look at him, at this man I loved so much it nearly destroyed me. "You've broken most of them."
"Most of them," he admits. He stands slowly, one hand braced on the bed rail. "But I meant this one. I'll be here at seven."
"Now get out of my room," I tell him.
He goes to the door. Opens it. Pauses with his hand on the frame.
"I love you," he says. "I know that doesn't mean much right now. But I need you to know it anyway. I love you, and I love her, and I'm going to spend the rest of my life proving it if you'll let me."
"We'll see," I say, and turn my face to our daughter.