Carlisle folds the letter and places it carefully back inside the envelope. He stares at it for a long moment without saying anything.
“I found it while I was cleaning out her apartment. I’m surprised I even noticed it; I threw almost everything out.” He still doesn’t say anything and I worry that showing him the letter was a mistake. “That’s pretty much all I know. Other than she had me at home and her parents put their names on my birth certificate.” Carlisle remains quiet. The silence is uncomfortable. “I didn’t believe her when she told me but then I found the letter. I brought it along in case you didn’t believe me. I’m sorry if you would rather not have seen it. I don’t want –”
Carlisle cuts me off with the last thing I expect—a hug. He clears his throat and says, “I love you, Son.”
Hearing him refer to me as his son and tell me he loves me is more than I can handle. I choke back a sob as I attempt to hold myself together. “How can you love me?” I ask in all honesty. “You don’t know me.”
“It doesn’t matter.” He says quickly. “You are my son. I have always loved you.”