Now that Andrew had broken that damn, it all came spilling out. The anger, the hatred, and the reporter just sat there and let him speak. She'd closed her folder and everything.
"You know what? I didn't even know his damn name the whole time. I didn't know who he was, what he was to society until the Beckett's Christmas party just passed. I never cared to know. That's how little he meant to me. What do you mean that I have half of that man's dna in me? What a damn waste. Thank everything holy that I don't look like a carbon copy of him completely. I am so grateful I got my Mom's hair out of it. This isn't dyed. This is my natural hair." Andrew confirmed and she nodded, watching him.
Andrew could tell he was worked up, but the words wouldn't stop.
