06 | Lies Around the Table

The silence between us stretched out like a heavy curtain, and the tension seemed to crawl across the table as Richard stared at me with an intensity that made my stomach churn. I knew I could no longer delay the conversation he seemed determined to have. That moment of apparent calm was shattered by the force of his need for answers. He wanted to know what I was hiding, and I couldn’t run from it any longer.  

"Melissa, are you going to tell me the truth, or are we going to keep playing this guessing game?" Richard said with a frightening calm. He was trying to control the situation, but the tone of his voice was filled with a barely concealed anger.  

I wanted him to leave. I wanted him to disappear from my life once and for all. But at the same time, I knew it wouldn’t be that easy. He was there to uncover everything, and I knew that no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t keep things under control anymore. It was too late.  

"I don’t have anything to explain, Richard," I replied, my voice wavering as I forced a smile that I knew wouldn’t convince him. "We’ve already talked about this."  

"Talked?" He repeated with a dry, almost sarcastic laugh. "You think that was a conversation? You lied to me, Melissa. And I need to know why. Why did you leave? Why did you never give me the chance to understand? And now, this story about your son, a son I never knew you had... There’s no escaping this."  

I pulled back, unwilling to give in. The truth I feared more than anything was about to be revealed, and my whole body was on alert, as if something were telling me not to tell him.  

"Richard, please, don’t do this," I whispered, almost as if hoping he might change his mind. But the determination in his eyes only grew.  

"No, you’re going to tell me now," he demanded, his voice becoming firmer. He wasn’t there as the man I once loved, but as someone who demanded answers. "There’s no escape, Melissa. I need to know the truth. I deserve that."  

I could see the muscles in his face tightening as he waited for my response. The waiter returned with our coffees, but Richard barely glanced at the drink, as if what I had to say was more important than anything else. I, however, couldn’t focus on the cup in front of me. All my attention was on the words that were about to come out of my mouth.  

I was standing on the edge of the abyss, but what scared me most was the possibility that Richard would push me into it. He would never understand. He would never understand what I had done to keep Ryan away from him, to protect the child I loved so much, and to prevent Richard from having any influence in his life. And now, here he was, challenging my resolve.

I took a deep breath, the anger mixing with the pain. It was no longer about him. It was about my son. I couldn’t allow Richard to have any claim over Ryan.  

"You want to know the truth, Richard?" My voice was tight, forcing the words out with a coldness that didn’t belong to me. "Ryan isn’t your son. He belongs to another man."  

He stared at me, his blue eyes narrowing in disbelief. "What? What are you talking about? Are you saying I’m not Ryan’s father?"  

I could see the surprise overtaking him, but what hit me hardest was the way he tried to hide the pain. He had built this idea of fatherhood, and that image was crashing down before him with that revelation.  

"I didn’t know how to tell you," I said, feeling a lump tighten in my throat. "I didn’t want to hurt you more, but I can’t let you believe you have any right to him, Richard."  

He stayed silent, his eyes locked on mine. There was no anger on his face now, just a deep emptiness, as if the ground beneath him was crumbling away. But the anger soon returned, mixed with disbelief.  

"So whose is he, then? Who’s his father?" Richard asked, his voice cracking. I couldn’t see any compassion in his eyes, only a desperate hunger for answers.  

I hesitated. It was the last thing I wanted to reveal. But he forced me to speak.  

"You wouldn’t understand, Richard," I said, my voice weak. "You’d never understand." 

"Then who is it?" He asked again, more insistently now. I could see he couldn’t wait any longer. He didn’t know how to process this revelation. "Who’s the father, Melissa?"  

I stared at him, my mind racing, trying to find words that wouldn’t sound like a lie. The truth was harsher than anything I had ever imagined.  

"You don’t want to know," I said, my voice trembling. "Because if you did, you’d never look at me the same way again."  

Richard didn’t respond immediately. He just looked at me, as if the words had gotten stuck in his throat. The anger was still there, latent, but there was something else. A kind of sadness that cut deeper than any shout he could have given.  

"So, who is the father?" He insisted, his voice now lower, almost as if he already knew but didn’t want to believe it.  

"It’s a man you’ve never met," I replied, the weight of keeping this truth hidden pressing down on me. "And I’m not going to give you any more answers."  

Those words felt like stones. Richard looked at me with confusion and frustration, and I could see he wasn’t ready to deal with it. The silence between us grew thick, and for a moment, the only thing I could hear was the rapid beat of my own heart.  

He was there, in front of me, trying to understand, trying to process the situation that had unfolded before his eyes, but there was nothing more to say. I had already done what I needed to do. My only priority was Ryan, and I couldn’t continue this conversation.  

I closed my eyes for a moment, feeling the pressure at my temples. I needed to leave. I needed to breathe.  

"I... I need to go," I said, my voice weak but resolute.  

Richard looked at me, trying to say something, but the words got stuck. He couldn’t move. That man, the one I thought I knew so well, now seemed like a complete stranger. His questions, his anger, everything was beyond any explanation I could give. There was no reason to stay.  

I quickly stood up from the table, grabbing my purse in a hurry. My hands were trembling, but my mind was clear. The fresh air outside would be all I needed to calm down and forget about this encounter.  

"Melissa, wait!" Richard called after me, but I didn’t stop.  

I rushed out of the restaurant, not looking back, hearing his voice fade as the distance between us grew. My breath was heavy, and I felt the tears welling up in my eyes, but this wasn’t the time to break down. I couldn’t. Not now.  

I only knew that I had to protect Ryan. And to do that, I would have to deal with whatever was necessary.  

With the knot in my throat tightening, I quickened my pace, not looking to the side, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to fall.  

Then, before I could even reach the door of the restaurant, a message came through on my phone, making my heart race even faster.  

It was a short message, but one with an impact that completely froze me.  

"I know who the father of your son is."