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I took a step down the corridor, my heart pounding. He was standing near the door.
« Jessica, » he said.
A young man using his laptop | Source: Midjourney
A young man using his laptop | Source: Midjourney
And that’s when I saw her. Jessica. My biological mother.
The woman I had imagined more times than I could count.
Her hair was shorter now. Her eyes were lined with tired wrinkles. She looked older than the woman in the photograph, but there was no doubt. It was definitely her. It was as if life had finally caught up with her, but not in the way one leaves wisdom behind.
« Dylan, » she said, in a soft, calm voice. « It’s been a long time. »
A woman standing under a porch | Source: Midjourney
A woman standing under a porch | Source: Midjourney
« Yes, » I said. « That’s true. »
There was a strange, almost cinematic silence between us. I was waiting for something. Tears, apologies, or simply a sign that this moment mattered to her as much as it did to me. I had imagined it in a hundred different ways. I used to dream that she would cry when she saw me, that she would wrap her arms around me and whisper how sorry she was for having missed out on my whole life.
But Jessica did none of those things — not a tear, not even a flicker of regret.
Instead, she rummaged in her bag and pulled out an envelope.
An envelope placed on a table | Source: Midjourney
An envelope placed on a table | Source: Midjourney
« It’s for you, » she said, as if she were handing me a leaflet. Then she added, a little too enthusiastically, « It’s a surprise! »
I looked at the envelope. It was unsealed. My fingers trembled when I opened it, suddenly aware of the weight of my father’s presence behind me, silent and steady.
Inside was a DNA test.
I looked at it, trying to understand the black and white printing, the names, the numbers, the probability table at the bottom of the envelope.
Jessica pointed at my father, who hadn’t moved at all.
A sample for a DNA test | Source: Unsplash
A sample for a DNA test | Source: Unsplash
“This proves that this man isn’t your biological father, Dylan,” she said calmly. “I had this test done privately after you were born. I suspected he wasn’t your biological father, but it was the best decision for me… I never told Greg. I kept the results, of course. I didn’t think it mattered at the time… but now, with everything you’ve accomplished, I thought you deserved the truth.”
She smiled, almost kindly, as if she were doing me a favor.
« You’re mine, darling, » she added. « Now we can start our life from the beginning. »
« I’m sorry, what? » I blurted out.
A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney
A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney
She didn’t flinch. She simply took a set of stapled documents out of her bag and carefully unfolded them, as if it were a presentation she had rehearsed.
She placed the contract on the porch railing, took a pen out of her purse and clicked it.
« All you have to do is sign, » she said, sliding a document towards me.
I looked at the document. It was dense legal jargon. I was used to it, but that didn’t mean I understood it. I skimmed it anyway. The third paragraph hit me like a punch in the face: she was trying to claim a share of my company.
A sullen young man holding a stack of documents | Source: Midjourney
A sullen young man holding a stack of documents | Source: Midjourney
LaunchPad. The thing I built from scratch.
I looked up at her and, for the first time, I truly saw her as she was. The practiced tone, the empty smile, and the cold, deliberate way she carried herself like a guest, not a mother.
She wasn’t there to reconcile; she was there for what she thought she could gain.
« I think I finally understand now, » I said in a low voice.
My father stepped forward.
A distraught man | Source: Midjourney
A distraught man | Source: Midjourney
« Blood doesn’t make you my mother, Jessica, » I said, holding the DNA test as if it might catch fire. « My father raised me. He loves me more than anything. And he taught me how to be a man. You’re nothing but a stranger. »
« You can’t just- » she tried to say.
« I can, » I said. « And that’s what I’m doing. »
I gave him back the document, unsigned.
« You left me once without thinking about the consequences. This time, I’m the one closing the door. »
She tried to pull herself together, throwing words at me. Something about rights, family, and second chances, but I wasn’t listening.
A pensive man | Source: Midjourney
A pensive man | Source: Midjourney
The kitchen smelled of garlic and thyme, the kind of comfort that creeps into your chest before you realize how much you need it. My father had disappeared into the garden after Jessica left.
I knew he needed some time to himself, especially after the bombshell she dropped.
Now I was standing in front of the stove stirring our favorite comfort food: lamb stew.
« You didn’t need to cook, Dyl, » he said from the entrance.
Garlic and thyme on a wooden board | Source: Midjourney
Garlic and thyme on a wooden board | Source: Midjourney
« I needed to do something with my hands, Dad, » I replied. « And I thought you might need something warm. »
He gave a brief nod.
« She waited 22 years to give you this, » he said, approaching to stir the pot.
« And you, Dad, » I added in a low voice. « She dropped it on both of us. »
He didn’t look at me, but I saw his grip tighten on the spoon.
A pot of lamb stew | Source: Midjourney
A pot of lamb stew | Source: Midjourney
« It doesn’t change anything, » I said, washing my hands. « You will always be my father. »
« Yes, » he said, letting out a deep sigh.
I walked across the kitchen and leaned on the counter next to him.
« Dad, I’m being sincere, » I said. « The blood doesn’t change who held me at three in the morning, who taught me to ride a bike… and who sat in the emergency room when I split my chin open on the sidewalk. »
He stirs the stew again, his eyes misty.
A distraught man standing in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney
A distraught man standing in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney
« I just feel like I’m losing something, son, » he said. « Even though I know that’s not the case. But… Dyl, if you want to get to know her… I won’t stop you. »