The Test
Chapter 10 - The Test
The paternity test was conducted in a private clinic with no cameras and no Cross Meridian staff.
Marissa insisted.
Julian agreed.
Theo disliked the cheek swab but enjoyed telling the nurse he had “survived medical science.” The joke sounded like Marissa, but the proud lift of his chin belonged unmistakably to Julian.
Results came four days later.
Probability of paternity: greater than 99.9 percent.
No readable report needed to be shown for the truth to land.
Julian sat in his office holding the sealed result while Theo spun slowly in a chair.
“So,” Theo said, “you are definitely my dad.”
“Yes.”
“Do I have to call you Dad?”
“No.”
“What should I call you?”
“Whatever feels true.”
Theo considered.
“Julian is kind of a rich-guy name.”
“It has been accused of that.”
Theo smiled.
Marissa stood by the window, watching both of them.
The test changed legal facts. It did not create trust. Julian understood that. He asked before attending Theo’s school play. He requested permission before sending gifts. When he offered to pay every expense, Marissa rejected the offer and proposed a formal support agreement through independent counsel.
Julian signed without negotiation.
His board expected a public statement.
He refused to use Theo’s name.
Instead, Cross Meridian announced only that the gala had been interrupted by a private family matter and that an internal investigation was underway. Reporters speculated. Donors complained. The stock dipped.
Julian did not care.
For eight years, corporate stability had been used as a reason to erase a child.
He would not repeat the logic.
That evening, Theo asked Julian to read a bedtime story over video call.
Julian read too quickly.
Theo corrected him three times.
At the end, the boy said, “Good night, Julian.”
Then, just before disconnecting, he added, “Maybe Dad later.”
May you like
Julian sat alone with the dark screen for a long time.
Hope, he learned, could hurt almost as much as grief.
