“Carol, please.” Her father begged, beginning to cry himself.
“Just answer my questions. If you piss me off sufficiently, I swear I will cut off from you for life … oh, wait. You won’t give a flying fuck, and neither will your beloved wife.”
“I’m your birth father. I’m your father, and I love you more than life itself. You know that Carol.”
Carol heaved a sigh of relief. Somehow, she did not care if Belinda was her mother or not, but she did not want it to be that Donald was not her father too. Her whole life could not be based on lies.
“Okay. So what the hell happened? Who is my birth mother and where the hell is she? Why did she just dump me with you guys and forget all about me?”
“She’s dead, Carol. She’s long dead. She died soon after giving birth to you.” Donald told her solemnly, and she could sense the pain in those words.
“Oh,” Carol breathed, the fight going out of her instantly.