And finally, Joseph’s eyes drifted down behind the counter. To the little boy in the high chair. Leo has my eyes, but he has Joseph’s jawline. He has Joseph’s exact curl pattern in his hair.

You didn’t need a paternity test to know who that child belonged to.

I watched the realization hit him like a physical blow. I watched his brain connect the timeline—the sudden departure, the silence, the age of the baby in front of him. I watched him realize that I had been pregnant that night on the couch, and I had chosen to walk away and raise his son completely without him.

His mouth opened, but no sound came out. His hands started to shake. “Is… is that…” he choked out, taking a step forward. Marcus instinctively stepped slightly in front of me, sensing the shift in energy. “Can we help you with something, man?” Joseph ignored him, staring directly into my eyes, pleading for me to tell him he was wrong.

“Jane. Please. Tell me.” I didn’t owe him anger. I didn’t owe him an explanation. The woman he broke on that couch didn’t exist anymore. I looked at the man who had discarded me for my sister, feeling absolutely nothing but pity. I reached down, picked Leo up from his high chair, and rested him on my hip.

Leo babbled happily, reaching for Marcus, who smiled and kissed the top of the baby’s head. I looked back at Joseph, my voice calm, steady, and ice-cold. “We aren’t taking any new memberships at this time,” I said smoothly. “Have a good day.” He stood there for another few seconds, completely shattered, before slowly turning around and walking out the glass doors into the rain.

I watched him go, feeling the weight of the past finally lift off my shoulders for good. I turned back to my fiancé and my son, ready to get back to my beautiful life.