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Echoes of the Heart - 19. Chapter 19: Carter digs deeper. Will he be shattered?
Carter sat stiffly on the chair, his elbows resting on the small, cold metal table in front of him. His fingers tapped nervously against the surface, betraying the storm raging inside him. The room was a chaotic hum of voices, distant footsteps, and the clatter of trays, but Carter heard none of it. His heart raced so wildly he thought it might give out. He felt hot one moment, then icy cold the next. Was he truly ready for this? Could he face the man who might shatter his already fragile reality?
Suddenly, a deep, gravelly voice cut through his thoughts like a blade.
“Excuse me,” the voice said, firm but laced with curiosity. “I was told you were looking for me.”
The sound sent a shiver down Carter’s spine, and his body froze. His head turned almost mechanically toward the source of the voice, and the first thing he noticed was the bright orange inmate uniform. Then his gaze traveled upward, catching sight of the man’s thick, salt-and-pepper beard that framed his strong jaw.
His face was striking, the golden undertone of his skin radiant even under the harsh fluorescent lights. His piercing amber eyes carried a sharp intensity, but beneath it, there was something distant, almost haunted. His dark hair was neatly cropped, with streaks of silver running through it, giving him an oddly dignified air despite his surroundings.
Carter’s breath hitched as their eyes met. This wasn’t the man he had seen in the photograph. The man standing before him looked younger, more robust, his body exuding strength. But it was him. Carter felt the truth in his bones, in the way his stomach twisted and tears welled in his eyes. His body refused to move, his chest heaving as he tried to keep the tidal wave of emotions at bay.
The man—Leonardo—tilted his head slightly, his brows knitting together in confusion.
“Are you… sent here by my lawyer?” he asked cautiously as he pulled out the chair opposite Carter and sat down.
Carter didn’t answer. He simply stared, his gaze heavy with anger, pain, and disbelief. The tears he had been holding back finally spilled over, streaming down his cheeks in silent agony.
Leonardo’s eyes widened in concern.
“Hey,” he said, his tone softening. “Are you okay?” He reached out a tentative hand toward Carter, but Carter recoiled as if he’d been burned.
“Don’t touch me!” Carter yelled, his voice cracking with raw emotion. The sudden outburst caused Leonardo to pull his hand back quickly, startled.
Carter’s anger surged forward, overtaking the fear and hesitation that had held him captive moments ago.
“How could you?” he spat, his voice trembling with both rage and sorrow. “How could you do what you did? How do you even sleep at night, knowing you murdered someone? Didn’t you ever stop to think about the consequences? About the people who’d suffer because of what you did?”
Leonardo’s face went slack, the color draining from his golden skin. His lips parted, but no words came out at first. His amber eyes narrowed slightly as realization began to dawn on him. His voice, when he finally spoke, was barely above a whisper, and it cracked with uncertainty.
“Are you… are you one of the Rivers? Did they send you here?”
Carter slammed his hand against the table, causing Leonardo to flinch.
“It doesn’t matter who sent me!” he shouted, his voice breaking with desperation. “I came here for answers, and you owe me that much!”
Leonardo’s expression shifted, fear flickering in his eyes. He shook his head slowly and pushed back his chair, rising to his feet.
“I’ve already told my truth,” he said, his voice uneven. “I’ve got nothing left to say. If you’re here for more, you’re wasting your time.” He started to back away. “I think my time’s up. I’ll be going back to my cell.”
“No, you don’t!” Carter shouted, jumping to his feet. His voice echoed in the small room, his tears streaking down his face. “You can at least tell your son the truth, can’t you?”
Leonardo froze mid-step. Slowly, he turned, his brow furrowing deeply as he stared at Carter.
“I don’t have a son,” he said firmly, though his voice wavered slightly. “I don’t even have a family anymore. That chance was cut off a long time ago. I lost the woman I was supposed to marry. I lost… everything.”
He made a move to turn away again, but Carter’s next words stopped him dead in his tracks.
“Grace Garcia,” Carter said, his voice trembling. “Twenty-six years ago… do you remember a woman by that name?”
Leonardo stiffened, his body going rigid. Slowly, almost painfully, he turned to face Carter fully, his amber eyes wide with disbelief. Memories seemed to flicker behind them, surfacing from some long-buried place.
“What did you say?” he asked, his voice barely audible.
“Grace Garcia,” Carter repeated, his voice breaking. “You knew her, didn’t you? She’s my mother.”
Leonardo stared at him as though Carter had grown a second head. His lips parted, but no sound came out. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he whispered, “Grace… we were together in college. But…” He paused, his hands trembling. “She told me she had an abortion.”
Carter’s fury flared again. He furiously wiped at his tears and dug into his bag, pulling out a photograph. Without a word, he slammed it onto the table and shoved it toward Leonardo.
Leonardo hesitated, then picked up the picture with trembling hands. His breath caught as his eyes landed on the image. It was a family photo: Grace, standing beside a man, Simon whom he recognized and two children. Her smile was radiant.
Leonardo’s hand shook as he stared at the picture. His amber eyes filled with confusion, shock, and a tinge of pain. He traced Grace’s face with his thumb, his voice barely above a whisper.
“Grace…” he murmured. “She… she had a family?” His gaze shifted to Carter, his expression a mix of disbelief and anguish. “She… she had you?”
Carter’s chest heaved with emotion as he struggled to hold himself together. “She did,” he said, his voice thick with tears. “But she’s gone now. She’s gone, and I’m here, looking for answers. I deserve that much, don’t I?”
Leonardo couldn’t tear his eyes away from the photo, his face a storm of emotions. For the first time, he looked truly vulnerable, the weight of the truth pressing down on him like a crushing tide.
“For 26 years,” Carter began, his voice trembling as he paced the room, his hands running through his hair in agitation. “I thought I knew who my father was. I thought it was Simon Hayez. And then everything changed. A few months ago, my entire life came crashing down.” He paused, his gaze locking with Leonardo’s. “And now, just recently, I find out that a murderer might be my father.”
Leonardo flinched at the word murderer, his amber eyes shimmering with unshed tears. He raised his head, his voice cracking as he whispered, “I’m your… I’m your father?”
Carter felt his heart pound so loudly it was deafening. Those words sent a rush of anger, confusion, and sorrow flooding through him. “I was hoping not,” Carter snapped, his voice sharp and defensive. “Because I don’t want to accept that truth. I don’t want you to be him.”
Leonardo’s expression crumbled, and for the first time, Carter saw a vulnerability in the man that almost made him falter. Almost. Leonardo hesitated, taking a step toward Carter, but Carter immediately raised a hand to stop him.
“Don’t,” Carter said, his tone laced with bitterness. “I didn’t come here for a reunion, and I sure as hell didn’t come here to hear about family bonds. As far as I’m concerned, I already had a father—Simon Hayez. He was the only one who mattered to me. So don’t you dare try to take his place.”
Leonardo froze, his outstretched hand falling to his side. He looked at Carter with anguish, his lips parting as if to say something, but no words came out. His gaze fell back to the photograph in his hands, his thumb brushing over Grace’s face.
Carter took a deep, shaky breath, his anger momentarily giving way to the need for answers.
“I still have questions,” he said, his voice quieter now but no less demanding. “How could you not know she was pregnant? Clearly, something happened between you two. What was it?”
Leonardo kept his eyes on the photo, his brows furrowing as he spoke, his voice low and strained.
“I knew Grace back then,” he began slowly. “We were in high school together, and then college. I always liked her—more than liked her, actually. But… she never noticed me that way. Not until that night.”
Carter’s jaw tightened, his chest tightening as he listened.
“We were both drunk,” Leonardo continued, his words heavy with regret. “One thing led to another. After that night, she told me it meant nothing to her. That’s all it was—nothing.” He paused, his voice growing weaker. “Then I found out about the pregnancy through one of her friends. I confronted her about it, begged her to keep the baby. I told her I’d take care of it. She didn’t even have to be involved if she didn’t want to.”
Leonardo’s voice cracked, and he looked up at Carter with tear-filled eyes.
“But she refused. She said a baby would ruin her future, ruin her chance with the man she’d been waiting for. I begged her. I begged her to let me raise you. But she wouldn’t listen.”
He exhaled shakily, his gaze dropping back to the photo.
“I thought she went through with the abortion. I left town not long after that. I couldn’t stay there anymore. It was too much.” His voice softened to a whisper. “I never heard anything about her again. Not until now.”
Leonardo raised his head again, his amber eyes filled with tears that finally spilled over. His voice broke as he whispered, “And now… you’re telling me that you’re my son?”
Carter stood there, his breath caught in his throat as he took in Leonardo’s emotional state. The man’s pain, his regret, and his disbelief were written all over his face. For a moment, Carter felt his resolve waver, the anger in his chest warring with something else—something softer, more conflicted.
Leonardo’s hands trembled as he held the photo, staring at it as if it held all the answers he’d been searching for his entire life.
“You’re my son,” he repeated, his voice thick with emotion, almost as if he couldn’t believe the words himself.
Carter’s shoulders heaved as sobs tore through him, the raw emotion of the moment breaking past his defenses. He stepped closer, his face streaked with tears, his voice shaking but resolute.
“I have another question,” he said, staring directly into Leonardo’s eyes, his own filled with anger and hurt. “Why did you commit murder? Or… or maybe you’ve always been a bad man. Maybe that wasn’t even your first crime, just the first time you got caught.”
Leonardo visibly recoiled at the words, his face crumbling with anguish. He closed his eyes tightly, letting the tears fall silently down his face. When he opened them, they shimmered with a pain so deep it felt like it could consume him. He took a shaky breath, his voice quiet but firm.
“I’ve never committed a crime in my life,” he said, his words carrying the weight of conviction. “I would never hurt anyone, Carter. Not a fly. Let alone another human being.”
Carter let out a bitter, hollow chuckle, the sound laced with disbelief. “Says the man who’s been rotting in prison for murder,” he spat, his tone dripping with contempt. “Do you think I’m stupid? Do you really expect me to believe you?”
Leonardo shook his head slowly, his gaze unwavering as he looked at Carter.
“I don’t expect you to believe me,” he said softly. “But it’s the truth. I didn’t kill anyone. I was just… in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
Carter scoffed, his anger boiling over as he took a step back, shaking his head vehemently.
“That’s convenient,” he snapped. “Real convenient. Do you know how many murderers say the same thing? That they’re innocent? That they didn’t do it? You’re no different.”
Leonardo’s face twisted with desperation, his voice growing more insistent.
“I’m telling you the truth,” he said. “I have no reason to lie to you, Carter. Not now. Not after I’ve found out…” His voice faltered for a moment, his eyes glistening. “Not after I’ve found out that I have a son.”
Carter’s expression hardened instantly, his body stiffening as though the words had physically struck him. His hands clenched into fists at his sides, and his voice rose, filled with fury and pain.
“Don’t call me that!” he shouted, his voice cracking under the weight of his emotions. “I am not your son! Do you hear me? I don’t want to be your son. I don’t even want to be here!”
Leonardo’s face fell, the vulnerability in his expression deepening as Carter’s words pierced through him. For a moment, he looked utterly broken, his shoulders slumping as though the weight of the world had pressed down on him all at once. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. Instead, he lowered his gaze to the floor, his hands trembling as they gripped the edges of the table.
“I understand,” he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “I understand why you feel that way. And I won’t ask for anything from you. Not your forgiveness. Not your trust. Nothing.” He looked up again, his tear-streaked face filled with regret and sorrow. “But I swear to you… I didn’t kill that man. I’m not the monster you think I am.”
Carter stared at him, his chest rising and falling with rapid breaths. His mind was a whirlwind of emotions—anger, doubt, confusion, and a sliver of something he refused to name. The silence stretched between them, heavy and suffocating, as Carter struggled to process everything.
Carter furiously rubbed his tears away with the heel of his palm, his chest heaving as he tried to steady his breathing. His emotions were spiraling—anger, hurt, and frustration all bubbling to the surface.
He extended his hand, trembling slightly, and said in a clipped, sharp tone, “I need some strands of your hair. Something, anything, to prove that you’re not my father. That we’re not related.”
Leonardo’s gaze softened as he stared at Carter, a son he had just discovered but already felt an overwhelming need to protect. His hands twitched as if he wanted to reach out and embrace the boy, but he held back, recognizing the fiery barrier of pain and anger between them. He nodded slowly, his expression somber, and without a second thought, reached up to grab a handful of his own hair. He yanked it out in one swift motion, wincing but ignoring the pain.
“Here,” Leonardo said softly, his voice trembling as he held out the strands.
His fingers quivered as Carter snatched them from him with no regard, quickly sealing them in a small plastic bag he had brought. Carter’s jaw clenched, his nostrils flaring as he looked at Leonardo with a mixture of disgust and sorrow.
“I’m really hoping your blood doesn’t run through my veins,” Carter bit out, his voice trembling as tears spilled freely down his cheeks. “Because if it does… if it does, I don’t know how I’m supposed to live with that.”
Leonardo’s heart cracked at the words, his shoulders slumping as he absorbed the weight of Carter’s hatred. He nodded, his voice soft and heavy with emotion.
“I understand why you feel that way,” he said. “I truly do. And I won’t try to change your mind. But…” He hesitated, his throat tightening, his eyes glistening as he forced himself to speak. “If it’s true, if you are my son… no one else can know. Not the Rivers. Not Laura Rivers. Especially not her.”
Carter frowned, his brow furrowing as his anger flared hotter.
“What are you talking about?” he snapped.
Leonardo’s expression darkened, his gaze shifting nervously toward the door as if he feared someone might be listening.
“Laura Rivers is dangerous,” he said, his voice low and urgent. “She’s vindictive and merciless. If she finds out you’re connected to me, she’ll do everything in her power to hurt you. To ruin you.”
Carter let out a bitter laugh, the sound hollow and jagged.
“Too late for that,” he said, shaking his head with a sardonic smile. “You’ve already ruined everything. I’m engaged to Jeremy Rivers, the man I love, and now because of you… because of this… that might never happen.” His voice cracked at the end, betraying the depth of his pain.
Leonardo’s face paled at Carter’s words, his eyes widening in fear.
“Engaged to Jeremy?” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “Oh God… you need to—”
But Carter didn’t let him finish. With one last glare, filled with fury and despair, he turned on his heel and stormed out of the room. The sound of his footsteps echoed through the space, leaving Leonardo standing there, frozen and hollow. His hands shook as he stared at the door, fear and guilt consuming him.
He sank back into his chair, his mind racing.
“The Rivers will destroy him,” he whispered to himself, his voice trembling.
The thought of his boy being dragged into the dark, vengeful world of Laura Rivers made his stomach churn. He buried his face in his hands, tears streaming down his cheeks, as the weight of everything—his past mistakes, his present fears, and the fragile possibility of a son he might lose forever—crushed him entirely.
***
Carter stumbled into his apartment, his steps heavy and his face pale, as if the weight of the world had crushed him into a shell of himself. His hands trembled as he closed the door behind him, and his breathing was shallow, almost as though he had been running but couldn’t catch his breath. The moment Sheila and Eric saw him, sitting on the couch like a broken doll, their worry deepened.
“Carter!” Sheila exclaimed, rushing toward him.
Eric was faster, grabbing his hand and kneeling before him.
“What happened?” Eric demanded, his voice trembling with concern as he gently squeezed Carter’s icy fingers.
But Carter didn’t respond. His lips parted slightly, but no words came out. His eyes stared at nothing, glazed and haunted, lost in the echoes of Leonardo’s voice and the storm of emotions tearing through him.
Eric shook his head in frustration, gripping Carter’s hand tighter.
“I knew it,” he said, his voice laced with guilt. “I knew I shouldn’t have let you go alone. I should have insisted, Carter. I should’ve come with you, no matter what you said!” His voice cracked, his frustration more at himself than at Carter.
Carter slowly reached into his bag with shaky hands and pulled out two small plastic bags. He handed them to Eric, his gaze still distant, and spoke in a voice so soft it was barely audible.
“Can you… can you run a DNA test? Please. I need to know if that man is really my father.”
Eric blinked at the samples in disbelief, looking as though Carter had just asked him to hold an explosive. He shook his head, his brows furrowing in a mixture of worry and exasperation.
“Carter,” Eric began, his voice steady but pained, “you’ve already hurt yourself too much with this. You need to stop. Let it go. Forget about that man and focus on your happiness for once.”
Carter’s head jerked up, his gaze sharp, and for the first time since entering the apartment, he looked directly at Eric.
His voice broke as he replied, “How am I supposed to live like that, Eric? How am I supposed to pretend everything’s fine when I don’t know the truth? I need to know. You promised you’d help me with everything, didn’t you?”
Eric opened his mouth, his shoulders sinking under the weight of Carter’s desperation, but he couldn’t argue. After a long, agonizing silence, he finally nodded and took the samples.
“A few days,” he murmured. “You’ll have to wait a few days.”
Carter let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, his body sagging into the couch as if that small victory drained the last ounce of energy he had.
“Thank you,” he said hoarsely. “Thank you for everything, Eric.”
Eric sighed deeply, his worry etched in every line of his face.
“I really wish I hadn’t been able to help you with this,” he admitted softly. “Because all it’s doing is hurting you.”
Sheila, who had been standing silently nearby, finally stepped closer and knelt by Carter’s side. Her voice was gentle but firm.
“What are you going to do when the results come back?” she asked.
Carter glanced at her, his face tired and tear-streaked.
“If the results are negative,” he said, his voice trembling, “I’ll tell Jeremy everything. He deserves to know the truth.”
Sheila nodded but didn’t miss a beat before asking, “And what if they’re positive?”
The question hung heavy in the air, like a storm cloud about to burst. Carter was silent for a long moment, his throat working as he tried to find the words. Finally, he whispered,
“I’m hoping they won’t be.” His voice broke, and his tears returned, slipping down his cheeks as he choked out, “You should’ve seen him, Aunt Sheila. Standing there, looking so shocked when I asked him. Swearing he never killed anyone. Swearing he wasn’t a bad man.”
His voice cracked into a sob, and he buried his face in his hands, his body shaking with the force of his pain. Sheila moved closer, wrapping her arms around him tightly, pulling him into her embrace. She rested her chin on his head, her fingers gently stroking his hair as she whispered soothingly,
“Shh… don’t think about it, Carter. Just let it out. I’m here for you. I won’t let you get hurt anymore, I promise.”
Carter cried harder, clutching Sheila’s arm like a lifeline as the weight of everything he had bottled up finally spilled out. The room was filled with the sound of his broken sobs, raw and unrestrained, echoing with the pain of a boy who had lived too long in the shadow of lies and uncertainty. Sheila held him tighter, her own eyes glistening with unshed tears as she silently prayed for his heart to find peace.
Eric stood nearby, watching the scene unfold, his jaw clenched tightly as guilt and helplessness warred within him. He wanted to fix everything for Carter, to take away the pain, but he knew that no matter what he did, this was a wound Carter would have to confront on his own.
“I won’t let anyone hurt you,” Sheila whispered again, rocking him gently like she used to when he was little. “Not him, not anyone. You’re going to get through this. You’re stronger than you think.”
Carter didn’t respond, his sobs slowly quieting into soft hiccups, but he stayed in her arms, allowing himself a moment of comfort in the midst of the storm. For now, that was enough.
***
The knock at the door startled Sheila, interrupting the tense silence that had blanketed the apartment. Carter was curled up in the bedroom, still recovering from his emotional breakdown, and Sheila was doing her best to hold things together. But now, as the knocking came again, her heart pounded in her chest, a sense of foreboding washing over her.
She wiped her hands on her dress and moved to the door. When she opened it, her breath hitched, and her nerves spiked. Jeremy stood there, tall and imposing, his face unreadable. His dark eyes locked onto hers, and for a moment, Sheila forgot how to speak.
“Jeremy,” she finally managed, forcing a sheepish smile as she greeted him. “Hi. What a surprise.”
“Hi, Sheila,” Jeremy replied, his voice calm but carrying an undertone of worry. He tilted his head slightly, as if trying to peer past her. “Is Carter here?”
Sheila’s smile faltered, and she felt the blood drain from her face. She stepped aside and motioned for him to come in, her hand trembling slightly.
“Uh, no, he’s not here right now. He left early this morning—work stuff, you know.”
Jeremy stepped into the apartment, his eyes sweeping the room as though he expected Carter to materialize out of thin air. Sheila closed the door behind him, nervously wringing her hands as she tried to keep her composure. Jeremy sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair before lightly hitting his forehead in frustration.
“That’s the thing,” he said, his voice laced with helplessness. “It’s been four days, Sheila. Four days, and I haven’t seen him. We’ve barely talked on the phone, and when we do, it’s always the same thing—he says he’s busy, says he’ll call me back, but he never does.” Jeremy paused, his gaze shifting to Sheila, who was trying her best to keep her expression neutral. “He hasn’t been at the office for five days either.”
Sheila’s heart sank as she saw the vulnerability in Jeremy’s eyes. He looked so lost, so confused, and it broke her heart to know she had to keep Carter’s secrets for now.
Jeremy took a step closer, his voice dropping to a softer, almost pleading tone.
“Is there something wrong with him? Is he going through something I don’t know about? Or did I… did I do something to upset him? Maybe he’s punishing me for something, and I don’t even realize it.”
Sheila swallowed hard, guilt twisting in her chest as she saw the pain etched on his face. She reached out and took his hand, squeezing it gently, offering whatever comfort she could.
“Jeremy,” she said softly, her voice warm and soothing, “Carter’s not mad at you. He’s not avoiding you either.”
“Then why—” Jeremy began, but Sheila interrupted him, shaking her head.
“He’s just… dealing with some things,” she explained. “It has to do with his late father. There are memories he’s reliving, things he’s trying to process. It’s been exhausting for him, emotionally and physically. That’s all it is.”
Jeremy frowned, his brows knitting together as he absorbed her words.
“Why didn’t he tell me?” he asked, his voice heavy with hurt. “I could’ve helped him. I want to help him.”
Sheila laughed softly, trying to ease the tension.
“Jeremy, you have enough on your plate,” she said gently. “You have your kids, your family. What would your mother say if you suddenly dropped everything to focus on Carter again?”
Jeremy opened his mouth to protest, but Sheila stepped closer, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.
“You’re a good man,” she told him sincerely. “You love Carter, and I know you’ll take good care of him. But right now, he needs to handle this on his own. Trust him, Jeremy. Once he’s ready, he’ll come to you and explain everything. It won’t be long—I promise.”
Jeremy sighed deeply, his shoulders slumping as the fight drained out of him. He nodded slowly, though the sadness in his eyes didn’t fade.
“Alright,” he said quietly. “But when he comes back… can you tell him to call me? Please.”
Sheila smiled warmly and nodded.
“Of course, Jeremy. I’ll make sure he does.”
“Thank you,” Jeremy said, forcing a small smile. “I should get going.”
Sheila walked him to the door, her nerves finally beginning to settle as she opened it for him. Just as Jeremy stepped out, the faint creak of a door opening caught her attention. She glanced back, her heart sinking when she saw Carter standing in the doorway of his bedroom, peeking out.
Carter’s face was pale, his eyes red and swollen from hours of crying. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he clutched the doorframe for support, his entire body trembling. He watched Jeremy walking away, the man he loved so much, and his heart ached with the weight of everything he couldn’t say.
Jeremy paused at the door, turning back to give Sheila one last nod before walking down the hallway. Carter’s chest heaved as he fought the urge to call out to him, to run to him, to beg for comfort and forgiveness. But he couldn’t move. His feet felt glued to the floor, his voice trapped in his throat.
Sheila closed the door and turned to see Carter standing there, tears streaming down his face. She rushed to him, pulling him into a tight embrace.
“Oh, sweetheart,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “It’s going to be okay.”
Carter clung to her, his sobs muffled against her shoulder. But in his heart, he wasn’t so sure. The pain of watching Jeremy walk away, so close yet so unreachable, was almost too much to bear.
***
Carter stood in the living room, the tension in the air thick enough to choke him. His gaze was locked on the envelope in Eric’s hand, the paper seeming heavier than the world itself. His heart raced—no, it galloped—faster than it ever had before. Every muscle in his body felt taut, coiled with fear and anticipation. His hands trembled at his sides as he licked his dry lips, feeling the weight of the moment crushing down on him.
“You still have time, Carter,” Eric said softly, his voice carrying a pleading edge. “We can stop this here. Forget all of this… and you can live your life. A normal life.”
Carter didn’t respond. He couldn’t. The words didn’t reach him. His world had narrowed down to the envelope, to the truth that waited inside it. Without a word, he reached out and took the envelope from Eric, his fingers unsteady as they brushed against the edges of the paper.
Eric’s face was etched with concern, but he didn’t say anything more. Carter tore the envelope open, his movements shaky, almost frantic. The tearing sound echoed in the room, sharp and jarring. Slowly, painstakingly, he pulled the papers out. His hands trembled even more as he unfolded them.
His breath caught in his throat as his eyes scanned the words. His vision blurred momentarily as fear twisted in his gut like a knife. The bold words jumped out at him. 99.9% Probability of Paternity.
*
In another room, far away, Leonardo held an identical document in his calloused hands. He stared at the bold letters, his eyes wide and unblinking. His lips moved silently as though he were trying to process what the words meant. His breath hitched, and his hands trembled, the paper crinkling slightly in his grip.
Slowly, almost robotically, Leonardo raised his head to look at Carter, who sat across from him in the stark visiting room. The younger man’s eyes were bloodshot, his face streaked with tears, and his expression a mixture of anger and pain.
Leonardo’s lips quivered as he stuttered, his voice breaking, “You… you’re my son. The test—it says—you’re my son.” His words caught in his throat, and then, as though a dam had broken, his voice rose with emotion. “I have a son,” he said louder, his voice trembling with a mix of disbelief and joy. “I have a son!”
He surged forward, trying to grab Carter’s hands across the table, but Carter snatched them away, recoiling as if Leonardo’s touch burned him.
“Don’t!” Carter hissed, his voice laced with fury and anguish. Tears welled in his eyes as he glared at the man before him. “You must be so happy, huh? Ruining my life like this.” His voice cracked, and he slammed his hands against the table, his whole body trembling.
Leonardo’s jubilant expression faltered, replaced by confusion and pain.
“Please, no. I…”
“Shut up!” Carter snapped, his voice rising. “You ruined everything! My life was finally moving towards something good, something happy! I had a man who loved me, and I…” His voice broke into a sob, but he pushed through it. “But now, because of you, that dream is gone. It’s never going to happen, all because you’re involved in the death of Jeremy’s father.”
Leonardo’s face crumpled, his joy evaporating.
“I didn’t kill anyone,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I swear to you, I didn’t.”
“Stop lying!” Carter yelled, standing so abruptly that his chair screeched against the floor. “Tell me the truth! You’re my father, aren’t you? Then you owe me the truth!”
Leonardo’s shoulders slumped as he let out a shuddering breath. He buried his face in his hands for a moment before dragging them down his face, his tears spilling freely.
“Alright,” he whispered, his voice trembling. “I’ll tell you everything. The truth. Nothing but the truth.”
Carter crossed his arms tightly over his chest, his body shaking with barely restrained anger.
Leonardo began, his voice low and filled with regret.
“Fifteen years ago… I was coming from the bar. I’d just lost my job, and I… I drank too much. I wasn’t even that drunk most nights, but that day, I…” He paused, his breath hitching. “I was walking home. The streets were quiet, almost eerie, and then I heard it—a gunshot. I don’t know what made me go towards it. I should’ve walked the other way. God, I wish I had.”
Carter’s fists clenched at his sides, his knuckles white.
Leonardo’s voice wavered as he continued, “When I got there, I saw him. A man lying there in a pool of blood. I froze. And then… then I felt a sharp blow to the back of my head. Everything went black. When I woke up, I was in cuffs, and they said I did it.” He let out a bitter laugh, his tears streaming. “And that’s how I ended up in here.”
Carter stared at him, his face pale and his jaw clenched.
“You lied to me,” he said coldly, his voice trembling. “All this time, you lied. Even when I begged you, you kept lying. You deserve to be here, suffering. And you know what? I’m going to Jeremy. I’m going to tell him everything. And you? You’re never going to see me again.”
Carter turned on his heel, his steps quick and purposeful, but before he could take another step, Leonardo lunged forward, gripping his arm.
“Wait!” Leonardo cried, his voice desperate.
He fell to his knees, clutching Carter’s arm as if his life depended on it.
“You have no idea how much I’ve suffered. How much I’ve prayed to just die and escape this hell. But now… now that I know I have a son, I have a reason to keep fighting.” His voice broke, and he sobbed openly. “I’m not begging you not to tell the Rivers the truth. I’m begging you… don’t say I’ll never see you again. Please, son. Please.”
Carter struggled to pull his arm away, his movements frantic.
“Let me go!” he shouted, his voice breaking. “You don’t get to do this to me. You don’t get to—” His voice choked off as tears poured down his face.
Leonardo didn’t let go.
“Please, son,” he begged. “You’re all I have left. Don’t take that away from me.”
Carter’s resistance crumbled as he broke down, his fists pounding weakly against Leonardo’s chest.
“I hate you!” he sobbed, over and over, his hits becoming softer until they stopped entirely.
He dropped to the floor, his body wracked with sobs, and Leonardo pulled him into his arms. For the first time, Carter didn’t resist. He cried like a child, his pain pouring out in waves, and Leonardo held him tightly, his own tears falling silently as he murmured, “I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”
The room was filled with the sound of their shared pain, the raw emotion too much for words. It was a moment of brokenness, but within it, a fragile connection began to form.
To be continued…
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Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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