Author's Note: No, I have no excuse for my absence. Except accidentally destroying my laptop, being constantly in exam mode, and a bad case of writer's block. And general laziness, to be honest. This is just a short in-betweener to let you know the truth! Hopefully I'll have another chapter (a REAL chapter) up before June.

So here I am, holding the envelope in my hands. The results are inside, and only one little strip of self-adhesive paper stands between me and knowing the truth about Lindsey’s paternity.

One little piece of paper.

Just one.

Just put your fingernail under the edge and tear it open. It’s not hard to do, Catherine.

So why is it so hard to do?

I take a deep breath and obey my own command. As I pull the papers out of the envelope, I close my eyes in some kind of attempt to know the results without reading them.

If I read them, then they’re real. They’re true. I can’t rationalize anymore, I can’t reason my way out of them, I can’t deny them anymore.

If I read them, then the way I look at Lindsey will be different. I’ll know for sure whether she’s the mistaken offspring of a cream-faced loon without the sense of responsibility to look after what’s just as much his as it is mine, or the daughter of a genius who admits when he’s wrong and rectifies the situation; a man who’s willing to eat crow when he needs to; a man who is already quadruple the man that Eddie could ever have begun to hope maybe to become.

If I read the results, the way I look at myself will change. I’ll forever have a living, breathing, blonde reminder of my hypocrisy. I’ll always know – even if she never does – what I did.

I think I already know what the result is. I can almost smell the ink on the page; can feel the threads in the paper. It’s as though the words are whispering themselves in my ear.

I think I already know.

I think I do.

I do. Maybe.

Open your eyes and find out for sure.

Open them.

I do. I open my eyes and scan the page.

It’s as I thought. One night really is all it takes, I suppose.