Page 98 of Incompatible

"You see, Max and I were married for many years, fifteen to be exact. I couldn’t get pregnant and didn’t know why. We did every kind of test, but nothing came up. Time was passing, I was over forty, and I knew my window was closing…"

I exhale loudly. What he just revealed is heavy, and my thoughts are swirling inside my head like a crazed flock of birds.

"So, I’m the cuckoo in the nest…" I whisper.

He doesn’t comment on that, he just continues, a vertical crease forming on his forehead.

"When I was forty-two, the doctor told me my next heat would come within six months. At that time I was not only a prosecutor, but I was also helping certain people with criminal cases, consulting, and so on. A well-known detective, Dupont, came to the city to give a lecture about exactly those kinds of cases I was working on. I went out of curiosity. A man I had been advising for years sat next to me by chance, since we were both interested in the topic."

"I can already tell where this is going…" I mutter sourly.

Dad doesn’t react. "I didn’t realize my heat had started. The first wave hit me while I was still in the lecture hall, which could have ended badly, but that man helped me get safely to a side room. The hotel where the event was held had a heat room for omegas, a place to lock themselves in safely when heat starts unexpectedly. It’s required by law so there’s a safe area and no risk of group assault. That man stayed with me and made sure no one disturbed me until we could call Max…"

"Oh, but I’m sure he disturbed you all right," I mutter sarcastically.

There’s a moment of silence, but he still does not comment on my jab.

My pulse is racing, my hands are sweaty.

"Max was in the middle of a trial, as you know, he was a criminal judge. The hearing was supposed to last hours with testimonies, statements, all of that. I waited through the first waves of heat, but Max was still late, and then…" Dad stops, "then… that one time, that man and I…"

"You don’t need to give me details, I can imagine what happened," I mutter gloomily.

Only now does he make a bitter grimace.

"Max finally came that evening, and of course I spent the rest of the heat with him. A month later I realized I was pregnant and Max was incredibly happy. He couldn’t believe that afterall those years he would finally become a father, something he had dreamed about. He was much older than me and had pretty much given up on that dream, so he was ecstatic…"

"Wonderful, just wonderful…" I mumble, feeling sick.

Dad continues with a determined look, like he’s pushing himself through this confession.

"During the pregnancy I had amniotic fluid testing done to make sure everything was fine, because I was over forty, and that increases the risk of genetic issues. I forgot about that test afterward, but it had a certain detail I wasn’t aware of. The sample from that test was frozen. That particular lab had an insurance policy that required them to repeat the test if anything seemed off. They kept the frozen samples for months in case they needed to recheck something and to avoid unnecessary punctures, because amniotic fluid collection always carries risk."

I stare at my hands. Everything is slowly coming together in my head, but it’s a painful process, and I feel like my brain is about to explode.

"Two weeks before you were born, something happened. We ran into an acquaintance, someone I barely knew but Max knew him better. Turns out he was also at that Dupont lecture. We talked about it for a moment, and he suddenly said, ‘Good thing you weren’t alone back then, it could have ended badly. I saw alphas starting to turn toward you. Without his quick reaction you might’ve had a problem.’ Max didn't respond, at least not in front of me, but when the man left, I saw Max follow the guy and talk to him for a bit. When Max came back, his mood was completely different, dark and unsure. He didn’t ask me anything, but I knew he was digging into it, asking that acquaintance what exactly happened when I was taken to that side room in the hotel."

Dad leans back against the bench and looks at the dark sky. Fireworks still burst from time to time, and a green wave spreads above our heads. I stare at it blankly, like in a trance.

"For the next two weeks something between us broke. Max was absent and quiet. Two days before you were born, I got an email from that lab. What it said wasn’t fully clear to me, but basically they thanked me for using their services and informed me that there were no longer any frozen samples stored at their facility, and if I had additional questions they were available. I assumed it meant that since the pregnancy was almost full-term they were disposing of the samples, so I didn’t think much of it. Two days later the accident happened. Max Strada died in that accident, but I survived, and you…"

"What was that about the results, I don’t understand," I mutter.

"I didn’t understand it then either, but later I figured it out. Max Strada used my personal data and my electronic signature and contacted the company to request a paternity test from the amniotic fluid."

I blink. "Wait, so two days before you gave birth he found out? That he wasn’t the father?"

"Yes. Those two days before, he was in such a terrible state he could barely stay on his feet. I thought he was just sick, but it was all in his head. He didn’t say anything, he didn’t blame me, but I think he caused that accident on purpose. The people from the police who examined the crash site agreed with that. There were no brake marks; it was a deliberate veering off the road."

A terrifying silence falls, and I can’t believe what I’m hearing.

"He wanted to kill you?"

"To kill himself, me, and you. We were a really good couple, we loved each other deeply, we were High Mates. I think it brokehis heart, the fact that I lied, that I let him believe you were his child. He couldn’t bear my betrayal."

I press my hands to my face. It’s too much. It’s just too much.

"This is a nightmare, a nightmare…" The realization that before I was even born, I almost died because of my dad’s lies hits me like a lash of barbed wire, and I feel physically sick. But then a thought flickers in my head. "Wait. So my real father is still alive?"