“A resemblance isn’t proof.”
“I’m sorry,” I said.
Grandma pressed her lips together. “I spent my whole life believing I knew who my father was. I don’t know what to feel yet.”
Archie looked between the photograph and the twins. “Their eyes. I saw the resemblance at the hospital, and I let it convince me of the worst.”
“A resemblance isn’t proof,” I said. “The test is.”
“I should’ve listened to the doctor.”
“I know.” His voice faltered. “I should’ve listened to the doctor. I should’ve believed you. Instead, I made you defend yourself while you were carrying our children.”
“You didn’t just hurt me,” I said. “You let everyone around us think I’d been unfaithful.”
“I know.” He turned toward Grandma. “I’m sorry you found out this way, too. I shouldn’t have made your family history part of my suspicion.”
“I’ll do whatever it takes to earn your trust back.”
Grandma held the letter close. “You didn’t cause this secret, Archie. But you did choose to doubt her.”
He nodded. “You’re right.”
He looked at me again. “I’m not asking you to forgive me today. I want you to know I’m sorry, and I’ll do whatever it takes to earn your trust back.”
I was telling the truth.
I glanced at the twins, sleeping in their carriers. “You can start by being here for them. And by understanding that one apology won’t fix what happened.”
“I understand.”
I wasn’t ready to tell him it was all right. It wasn’t. But for the first time since the ultrasound, he wasn’t asking me to prove I was telling the truth.
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