Andrew sat in his study, the dim lighting casting shadows along the dark mahogany walls. His mind was a battlefield, filled with memories, questions, and one undeniable urge—he needed to talk to Amelia.
After dinner with his parents, there was no shaking off the uneasy feeling that had settled in his chest. His mother had planted a seed of doubt, and no matter how much he wanted to dismiss it, it was already taking root.
Could Oliver be his son?
There was only one way to find out.
His fingers tapped restlessly against his desk before he finally reached for his phone. He had never called Amelia since she left his house, never even looked for her after they had gone their separate ways. And yet, the moment his thumb hovered over her contact, his pulse quickened.
Would she answ
