“Marissa doesn’t need money; she doesn’t need my name either. Her family does just fine on their own,” he huffs. In agitation, he reaches for an apple from the fruit bowl and starts tossing it between his hands. Jake is entering his ‘I’m done with this’ mode. Fidgeting is his nervous habit.  

“You never told me about a DNA test?” I finally butt in quietly. Jake’s eyes snap up to mine, surprised at hearing my voice and that I am interacting with this ...