— Don’t worry. She’s not yours, — I watch the ex’s gaze.
— Really? Maybe you’ll agree to DNA, then? — he narrows his eyes. This jerk is trying to catch me. Won’t work.
— If you want, — I shrug, — on one condition: after that, you’ll forget about me and Masha.
Leaving under his surprised look. I’m not scared.
I know exactly what the test will show, because many years ago I made my choice.