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I watched Clarke as he sat in his seat, beside Dante, his elbows resting on his knees, his shoulders hunched, pulling the lines of his shirt tight I didn’t knohat to say to hi, but the shitstor, too impossible to resolve in the time that stretched before us

He lifted his head and looked at e of emotion that he straddled "The newspapers…" He sed, his beautifulfor a beat "They said that you said you didn’t knoho the father was"

The conversation that I had dreaded for a year was finally here "Yes," I o back to silence

"Why?" He adjusted the end of one shirtsleeve, pulling it tight, his eyes dropping briefly "Why wouldn’t it be me? Who else could it be?"

When he looked back at me, it o sets of eyes in total Dante also watched, every muscle in his body ready to pounce This was a test I realized it instantly Not from Clarke Poor, beautiful Clarke just wanted to knohat the hell was happening in his life But Dante, he watched to see what I was made of I wished I knew I looked down at ht a sliver of time

I had always hoped that Nicole would be the one to confess If I took away that option, telling Clarke about Paulo, would it ruin any chance of hiain? Or had I already ruined thatup the paternity at all? It was pretty lance at social media, that Nicole was the Unfaithful Slut of the Week

"It was Paulo"

85 Spilling the Beans

"It was Paulo"

That bomb didn’t come from me; it came from Dante, who muttered the words, his voice dark My head snapped to hi the beans on Nicole’s lover ended Clarke’s attention turned from me and zeroed in on Dante

"Paulo?" Clarke sounded surprised

"This couldn’t have been a surprise" Dante stood and faced hi this role?"

I didn’t knohy Dante was getting so self-rightous He had kept the secret, sauilty in this situation except Clarke Clarke sank back in his seat, his head resting against the wall He looked beaten Lost I watched his brow pinch and wondered if I had looked that defeated and broken, in the afterht co, waiting for the guillotine to fall

Waiting to find out who the executioner was

86 She Doesn’t Deserve Children

Clarke claaze shuttering, his arroup fell back into silence, nothing said until a nurse walked out and asked fora hand

"Mrs Brantley has asked for you"

I glanced at Clarke, then back at the nurse, who had already turned, her scrubs pushing through the double doors I grabbedleft I didn’t glance at Clarke when I scurried past Didn’t want to see the questions in his eyes I didn’t want to knohy she had asked for ative outcome to ask the nurse about the baby

"The baby is fine" The nurse spoke over her shoulder, waiting on a hospital bed to cross our path