Then I Heard About the Clinic
Two days after we arrived in England, Marcy emailed me. That surprised me. Her message was short.
“Things became complicated at the appointment. I owe you an apology for what I said.”
I read it twice. I did not respond immediately.
Later, through our attorneys, I learned that Preston had requested a legal paternity test after the baby’s birth before making any long-term financial arrangements. The famous Hale family celebration had vanished overnight. Randall stopped discussing trusts. Colleen stopped buying baby furniture. Preston and Brielle began arguing about the timeline.
None of that made me happy. I did not want Brielle humiliated. I did not want Preston miserable. And I certainly did not want an unborn child treated like evidence in an adult dispute. I simply wanted distance.
For years, I had believed winning meant finally making Preston understand how badly he had treated me. But I was wrong. Winning was waking up without needing his understanding at all.
