Betrayal at it's finest

Betrayal at it's finest
Jason’s POV

Emily’s voice drifted toward me, soft and steady, but her words barely registered. It was like hearing through water, muffled and distant. My focus was elsewhere, consumed by a single, gnawing thought that tightened its grip with each passing second: What if Aurora isn’t mine?
The idea struck like a tidal wave... cold, violent, and all-consuming. My chest tightened, a hollow ache expanding in the space where certainty used to be. I couldn’t even bear the thought. Yet now that it had taken root, there was no stopping it. It clawed at me, demanding attention, leaving no room for reason or calm. I felt trapped inside my mind, the walls closing in with every breath.
“Jason,” Emily’s voice pulled at me again, her hand brushing lightly against my arm. “Are you even listening? Talk to me, please.”
I glanced at her, my heart a mixture of love and frustration. She was trying so hard, her expression a portrait of worry and care. But no words could fix this. Her comfort wasn’t what I needed, not now. Not when my world was spinning out of control.
“Jason?” Her voice trembled this time, but I couldn’t meet her gaze.
I stepped away, the need for space, for air, for answers driving me forward. The walls of the hospital room suddenly felt suffocating, and the weight of her concern was unbearable.
“Where are you going?” she asked, panic creeping into her tone.
I stopped at the door, gripping the frame hard enough to turn my knuckles white. “I need answers,” I said, my voice low and strained.
Before she could respond, I walked out, the door closing behind me with a muted thud. Her calls faded as I moved through the hallway, my steps purposeful and quick. Each one carried me closer to the truth I wasn’t sure I wanted to face, but knew I had to confront.
The sterile hospital walls blurred as I made my way to the doctor’s office. My mind raced with fragments of conversations, stolen glances, and lingering doubts. My breathing was shallow, my pulse hammering in my ears.
“Jason, any updates on Aurora?” Lucas’s voice cut through my thoughts. His concern was genuine, etched into every line of his face.
I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. The storm in my chest was too loud to allow for pleasantries or explanations. I walked past him without a word, his footsteps following close behind.
“Jason,” he called again, more insistent this time. “Talk to me. What’s going on?”
Still, I said nothing. My silence was all the answer he would get.
The door to the doctor’s office loomed ahead. I didn’t bother knocking. It swung open under the force of my palm, revealing the startled face of the man I needed answers from.
“Don Jason,” the doctor began, his expression shifting from confusion to alarm. “Is something wrong... your woman's test result is ready, I was just...”
Before he could finish, I pulled my gun, levelling it at him. The room seemed to freeze, the tension thick enough to cut.
“Whoa, Jason!” Lucas exclaimed, his hands raised in a calming gesture. “Put the gun down! You can't go around killing everyone!”
But I didn’t lower it. The anger, the fear, the desperation... they all churned together, a volatile mix threatening to erupt.
“You made a mistake with my blood test,” I growled, my voice low and dangerous.
The doctor’s face paled, his hands trembling as he stammered, “Th-there’s no mistake. I assure you...”
“Then prove it,” I barked, cutting him off. “Do another test. Now. Or I swear to God.”
“Jason! Relax,” Lucas’s hand gripped my shoulder, his voice urgent but steady.
I didn't care what he had to say, as the rage still simmered beneath the surface. I took a shaky breath, lowering the gun slightly. The doctor, still visibly shaken, nodded quickly.
“Fine,” he said, his voice unsteady. “We’ll do another test. Right now.”
He motioned for me to sit, but I couldn’t. My body was too tense, my mind too restless. I paced the room, every muscle coiled tight with tension. But Lucas urged to be to sit. The needle pierced my arm moments later, the brief sting barely registering. The vial filled with my blood felt heavier than it should, as if it carried more than DNA... it carried the weight of my sanity.
As soon as he finished, the doctor left with Lucas close behind. The door clicked shut, leaving me alone with my thoughts. The silence was deafening, the minutes stretching into what felt like hours. My pacing grew frantic, each step an outlet for the chaos inside me.
The door opened abruptly, breaking the stillness. Emily rushed in, her face pale, her eyes wide with fear.
“Jason,” she whispered, her voice shaking. She closed the distance between us, her arms wrapping around me tightly. “What did you do? Tell me you haven’t done anything reckless.”
I held her briefly, her warmth a fleeting comfort against the cold storm inside me.
“I’m fine,” I muttered, though the words felt hollow even to me.
She pulled back, her gaze searching mine. “Jason, please. Talk to me.”
Before I could respond, the door opened again. Lucas entered, the doctor trailing behind him. Their expressions were sombre, the weight of their news already written on their faces.
“Do you have the results?” I demanded, my voice sharp and cold.
The doctor hesitated, his hands wringing nervously. “Yes, but...” He paused, glancing at Lucas for support.
“Stop stalling,” I snapped, my patience worn thin. “Tell me.”
He took a steadying breath, then said, “The results haven’t changed.“You’re B-positive. You can’t donate blood to Aurora. The results are consistent.”
The room spun. His words felt like a physical blow, the final crack in a fragile dam.
“She’s my daughter,” I said, my voice cracking. “You’re wrong.”
The doctor’s expression softened slightly, but his tone remained clinical. “It’s not uncommon. One parent must have the AB-negative genetic marker. If it’s not you, then it’s the mother. We need her here to donate blood, or we continue looking for other options because time is not on our side.”
Emily stiffened beside me. Her silence screamed louder than words. The weight of betrayal, of doubt, crushed me. My hands trembled as I reached for my gun again, the urge to act overtaking reason.
But Lucas was faster this time. He grabbed my arm, his grip firm. “Jason. Enough.”
I struggled against him, but his voice broke through the chaos.
“Think about Aurora. Focus on her.”
Her name stopped me cold. My shoulders sagged, the fight draining out of me.
''How could... Amara did this to me, I loved her... Lucas pulled me into a firm embrace, his voice low and steady in my ear.
“It’s okay to feel this,” he murmured.
And just like that, the walls I’d built around my grief shattered. My knees buckled, and for the first time since Amara’s death, I cried.