“Enough with the whining.”
“Naïl… This is your child…”
“Don’t you get tired of humiliating yourself?”
“I’m tired, but it’s the truth…”
“Your truth, which a test easily refutes. So, Chris, here’s your laptop. Your things. Later you’ll send the address where you’ve settled— or if you’ll be at home. I’ll send the rest,” her rising voice turns into the sound of a pounding heart. But it’s all correct. She has to understand that her lie won’t work. Let the real father of the child go.
“And one more thing.”
I take money out of my wallet and shove it into her bag pocket.
“You said it yourself—you came to me because of money. That should be enough for now.”
“And what does money have to do with it? I love you.”
“And I don’t love you.”