I nod through my glassy eyes.
“You cut your leg deeply on the fence and you lost a lot of blood and needed a blood transfusion.”
I nod with my head dropped.
“The doctors came to me and told me that you had a very rare blood type and that there was no physical possibility that you could be your father’s child.”
Cameron stands immediately and comes around behind me and places both of his hands on my shoulders in support.
I’m not a Stanton.
“Joshua, I didn’t know what to do. Your father and I were finally so happy, and we had worked so damn hard to get to that place. How could I break a young boy’s heart, Joshua?”
My broken eyes meet hers.
She sobs as the tears run freely down her face.
I stare at her, unable to speak through the tightening in my chest.
“I didn’t know what to do,” she whispers in a barely recognisable voice.
I keep staring at her.
“What would you have done in that situation?” she yells.
“If I had told you the truth back then I would have messed up your whole life and you were already going off the rails at that point. Remember the partying, the fighting, the women?”
Cameron squeezes my shoulders and I put my hand over his.
“I decided to not say anything. No good could come from that kind of information. Your father loves you, Joshua.”
I drop my face into my hands as the tears start to flow… who am I?
I hear Cameron sob behind me as the deafening silence fills the room.
“Get out,” I whisper through the lump in my throat.
“J
oshua, no,” she cries.
“Don’t tell me no!” I yell as I stand furiously.
“Explain to me how Wilson has the same blood as me!”
Her face drops.
“What?” she whispers.
“Wilson and I are 100% brothers, we have the same blood. You were sleeping with this man for six fucking years. Do not dare insult my intelligence with your lies one moment longer. Are you still sleeping with him now?”
“What?” she whispers again and I can see by the look on her face she didn’t know this previously. “No,” she shakes her head frantically.
“We have the tests. Who is he?” I scream.
“Joshua, calm down,” Cameron whispers.
I pick up a paperweight from my desk and throw it across the room in anger. “I will not fucking calm down. Tell me his name!” I scream.