My first crush (COMPLETED)√

PART 2:Chapter 58: Worst birthday ever

"Kat, I want to see you now!" Wilson's voice thundered across the room, cutting through the music and chatter like a blade.

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"Please, honey... there's no need for this," my mom said quickly, grabbing his hands as if she could physically stop whatever was coming next. Her fingers trembled against his. "I thought we were past this. We don't need to talk about anything anymore."

"Don't tell me that," Wilson snapped, yanking his hands away. His eyes were bloodshot, wild. "Do you have any idea how hard it's been for me? All these years, carrying this filthy secret alone? I can't stand him. I can't stand knowing that he's the father—"

"What are you talking about?" I interrupted, my heart suddenly racing. The air around us felt heavy, suffocating. "Someone please explain what the hell is going on."

"Wilson, please," my mom begged, her voice breaking. "I'm begging you. I know you've had too much to drink, but not today. Please... let it go. Not today."

"I can't," he said, shaking his head. "I'm done pretending."

He turned to me, pointing an accusing finger.

"Sharon, the man standing right there—" he gestured sharply at Peter "—is your fucking father."

The world tilted.

"What?" My voice came out in a whisper, barely audible, yet loud enough to echo inside my head.

My legs felt weak. Panic flooded me all at once, hot and dizzying.

"Wilson!" my mom screamed. "I told you not to—"

She collapsed to the floor, sobbing uncontrollably.

"That's not possible," Patricia cried out, her voice cracking as she turned to Peter. "Dad, tell me he's lying! Tell me this isn't true. Dad!"

Peter stood frozen, his face drained of color.

"Kat..." he breathed. "How is this even possible?"

I felt like my chest was being ripped open.
"Mom!" I screamed. "Tell me this isn't real. Tell me I'm dreaming!"

Wilson let out a bitter laugh.
"Finally," he said cruelly. "I've said it. I can't stand looking at you anymore, Sharon. You're not my blood. You disgust me."

That was it.

Something inside me shattered.

Tears spilled freely as the pain hit all at once—sharp, unbearable, suffocating. It felt like I'd been shot over and over again, each word tearing deeper into me.

"Sharon," my mom sobbed, crawling toward me. "Please listen to me. I can explain. I need you to hear me."

I couldn't breathe.

"I'm your mother," she continued through tears. "But Wilson... Wilson is not your father."

The room spun.

"Eighteen years ago," she said shakily, "on Valentine's Day... your father—Peter—and I went out with Bella's mom, Veronica. We drank too much. We got separated. I couldn't go home, so I stayed at Peter's house."

My stomach churned violently.

"That night," she whispered, covering her face, "we..."the words hung in the air, afraid to let go.
"We had sex." She sobs.

"Oh my God..." The words slipped from my lips as a wave of pain crushed me.

"I'm sorry," she cried. "Wilson saw us. Peter was asleep—naked on the bed—he didn't even know what had happened. I begged Wilson to keep quiet... until I realized I was pregnant."

"Katherine," Bella's mom suddenly spoke up, her voice firm but heavy with guilt. "There's more. There are things you don't know."

Wilson's face twisted with rage.
"Veronica, what do you think you're doing?" he barked. "You terminated it!"

"Terminated what?" I snapped, my heart pounding violently. "What are you talking about? Veronica—tell me. What don't I know?"

No one answered immediately.

Silence swallowed the room.

Somewhere in the chaos, Patricia quietly slipped away, unnoticed by everyone. Her worst nightmare had come true, and she couldn't stay to watch the rest unfold.

And neither could I.