I gave birth five weeks ago to a baby with blonde hair and blue eyes, even though my husband and I both have brown hair and brown eyes. My husband panicked, convinced something was wrong, and demanded a paternity test before leaving to stay with his parents. His mother even warned me that if the baby wasn’t biologically his, she would make sure I was “taken to the cleaners” in a divorce.
Yesterday, the results arrived. My husband opened them with shaking hands, his face tense and unreadable. I stood there holding our daughter, feeling fear, exhaustion, and a faint spark of hope all swirling together as I waited for him to speak.
Finally, his expression softened. “She’s mine,” he whispered, stunned. The tension that had lingered for weeks seemed to dissolve at once. He collapsed into a chair, overwhelmed by a wave of relief and guilt. I watched him process how deeply his fear had distorted everything.
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