My Daughter Brought Home a Pale, Tattooed Goth Boy, and My Husband Immediately Told Him to Leave – Then the Boy Placed His Phone on the Table, and My Husband Went Even Paler
picture for a long time, then I glanced between Daniel and Evan.
Maya was still standing beside Evan.
Similar height, similar brown eyes. Maya had my nose, my dimples, and Evan… There was something about his chin, his cheekbones, and the way he set his jaw that was eerily familiar.
My stomach dropped.
Similar height, similar brown eyes.
“Who is she?”
Daniel swallowed.
“Her name is Claire.”
“She’s my mother,” Evan added.
I looked at my husband again.
“Is he… is Evan… your son?”
“She’s my mother,”
“What?” Daniel seemed genuinely horrified. “No.”
His answer should have relieved me.
Instead, it left an even worse question: why had he insisted that Evan leave the second he walked through our door?
“Then explain the picture.”
“Is he… is Evan… your son?”
“Claire and I were never together.”
Evan nodded. “My mom never said they were. That’s not why I came here.”
