“Paul, let me explain,” she finally said.

“So its true?” he said, looking very unstable.

“Paul, when I got pregnant with P.J., I was fucking around on you, but I really believed he was yours. When he got older and didn’t look anything like you, I started having doubts, but after seeing the two of you together and how you interacted with him, I knew he had to be yours. If you hadn’t gotten the paternity test done, I’d still think he was yours.”

“How could you do this to me?” he asked, placing his head in his hands. “All these years I thought he was mine and it was a lie.”

The more Rhonda talked, the harder Paul cried. How do you tell a child who you’ve been taking care of and interacting with like father and son that it was all bullshit? All Paul wanted to do was take a minute to breathe, but Rhonda was lingering in his space. It was as if her being in the same room with him was sapping his strength. He needed to be away from Rhonda before he lost his cool.

Rhonda risked moving close enough to the sobbing man to place her arm around him. “Paul, you’re the only daddy P.J. has ever known, so I don’t see a reason to change that now. You can keep on being his daddy and we can sweep all this under the rug,” she said, trying to convince him. Her voice in his ear sounded like the buzzing of an insect house, driving him further into madness. With a warrior’s cry, Paul snapped.

He backhanded Rhonda in the mouth so hard that she flew to the other side of the room and landed in the corner. She tried to scramble to her feet, but he was on her again. He delivered two more vicious slaps to Rhonda’s face and tossed her roughly on the couch.

“All these years and it was a fucking lie!” he raged.

“Don’t touch me!” Rhonda screamed. “Somebody help!!!”

“Lying bitch.” He slapped her again. “Dirty lying whore!” He kicked her in the thigh. “How the fuck could you do this to my life?” he asked, leaning down so she could hear his hoarse whisper.

“Paul, I’m so sorry,” she said, smashing her Corona bottle against his head.