The room went silent. Adam looked at me, bewildered. “What do you mean?”
“You know exactly what I mean, Adam. If Denise wants to question our son’s parentage, then I’d like the same assurance about where you’ve been and what you’ve been up to with your late nights and business trips.”
The color drained from his face. He hadn’t expected this turn of events, and neither had I when the words first left my mouth. It was a gamble, a desperate move to regain some control in a situation where I felt utterly powerless.
The days that followed were tense. Adam was quieter than usual, and I could sense the weight of his mother’s influence tugging at him. Despite the tension, I stood my ground, refusing to be the only one scrutinized.
