My mom nodded slowly. “True.”
“Maybe it’s a husband–wife psychic
connection thing?”
“Someone must have switched the hair
samples!” Susan glared at me, eyes blazing.
“It was you, wasn’t it?! You don’t want to give
up your fancy life, or your fiancé! So you
swapped our hair! You’re shameless! Just like
your real parents! Lazy, trying to steal what
others have worked for! Disgusting, vile,
wicked!”
She raised her hand to slap me.
<
Someone intercepted it. I don’t know if it was
because he was strong or she was weak, but
she stumbled and fell.
It was David Peterson, my fiancé. At least, in
name.
My dad glared at him. “What are you doing
here?”
David smiled. “Uncle Hank, didn’t you invite
me?”
All polite and charming, but my dad had never
liked him.
<
Apparently, my mom and David’s dad,
Richard, had dated years ago. They’d broken
up because of a misunderstanding, and
Richard, still hung up on her, insisted on
arranging a marriage between our families.
My dad reluctantly agreed, for my mom’s
sake.
When Michael was born, my dad was ecstatic.
Fireworks for three days straight.
Then I came along the next year.
Ever since, he’d been subtly trying to
sabotage things, hoping my mom would get
fed up with Richard and call off the
engagement.
He’d never succeeded, and as David grew
older, his dislike transferred to him.
So, I highly doubted my dad had invited David
over.
David, ever smooth, explained, “Uncle Hank
invited me a few days ago to discuss the
engagement. He said there might have been a
mix–up with the babies, and wanted to know
if I’d consider breaking it off, or… switching
partners.”
“I was out of town on business and just got
back today. Came straight here.”
Г
“Humph! The results came out today, and you
show up today? Who are you kidding?” my
dad grumbled.
Clearly, David had outsmarted him again,
dodging whatever trap my dad had set.
David was a true master manipulator, even
better than his old man.
Susan scrambled to her feet. “David! I’m your
real fiancée! I’m the real Peterson heiress!”
“Are you here to set things right?”
David smiled gently.
Г
“You can take your meds, but you can’t just
say whatever you want.” In one sentence,
he’d flipped the script, guiding her back to where she’d fallen. Then, he stood obediently
beside me.
“Ashley, this is chaotic. Want to stay at my
place for a few days? Get some peace and
quiet?”
My dad exploded. “You think I’m stupid? Why
would she go to your place? The results are
in! Why are you here stirring up trouble? If
you’re taking anyone, take the fake one!
Leave my daughter alone!”
–
КАТА
L-
“I don’t believe it! I want another DNA test!”
Susan shrieked, ignored by everyone.
Michael looked confused. “But Susan looks
exactly like Mom. Dad, are you sure there
isn’t a mistake? Maybe we should do another
test?”
My mom said solemnly, “No need. I have one
of those faces. Lots of people look like me.”
My dad hesitated, glancing at David. “Another
test… wouldn’t hurt.‘
Great. Back to square one.
My dad cleared his throat, addressing David
<
formally. “Now, our daughter’s identity is in
question. So, do you want to be engaged to
the Peterson heiress, or to Ashley? Let’s hear
it.”
I could practically see him rubbing his hands
together, ready to badmouth David to my
mom no matter what he said.
Seriously, even now, all he cared about was
one–upping David.
As expected, David hung his head, looking
dejected. “Ashley, you see? Your dad has no
feelings for you. The slightest possibility
you’re not his, and he’s ready to discard you.
He doesn’t even care how your mom feels.”
“I’m not as… detached as your dad. Call me
sentimental, but all I can think about is you
and your mom, how heartbroken you must be.
I’m so worried about you.”
“Ashley, Mrs. Peterson, please don’t
misunderstand Uncle Hank. I’m sure he didn’t
mean it.”
My mom was visibly moved. “You’re a good
boy, David. I haven’t wasted my affection on
you all these years.”
She angrily swatted away my dad’s hand.
“Get away from me!”
“Petty as always!”
“How many times have I told you? Richard
and I are just friends! Nothing more! But you
refuse to believe me, always trying to
sabotage Ashley’s engagement! What kind of
father are you?”
“Mrs. Peterson, please don’t scold Uncle
Hank. It’s my fault. I’m not good enough for
him.” David’s soft, pitiful tone made my mom
even more protective.
My dad, fuming but, could only glare
at David.
Seeing my mom’s rising fury, I quickly
intervened. “Mom! The priority is another DNA
test.”
<
Shooting a warning glance at David, I added,
“And you, enough with the theatrics. We’re
not having tea and sympathy for dinner.”
Just as we were about to head back to the
hospital, my dad stopped us. “No need. I
know Ashley is our daughter.”
