I couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw the same birthmark on my niece, Sofia, that I had seen years ago on my husband, David. For a moment, I was frozen, a wave of panic and disbelief flooding through me. But before jumping to any wild conclusions, I decided to take a secret step to uncover the truth. A DNA test. It would tell me everything I needed to know.
It was a bright, breezy afternoon when I found myself sitting under the comfort of our old cedar tree, holding baby Sofia in my arms. She was my sister-in-law Fiona’s daughter, but to me, she felt like my own. I loved her deeply, with all the tenderness a mother would show.
David had painted a picture of his family that was distant and cold, and when Fiona and Sofia moved into the neighborhood, I was surprised. But in all honesty, their presence brought me an unexpected joy, a warmth that I hadn’t anticipated.
As we sat down to enjoy our picnic, Fiona teased me about taking Sofia back, but I smiled and shook my head, holding the baby a little tighter. “No, you should clean up a little first. We’re fine here,” I said, trying to sound casual, even though a thousand thoughts were racing through my mind.
Fiona laughed, her voice light and carefree. It was moments like these that made me feel like everything was perfect. But soon enough, Sofia started to fidget and squirm more than usual. I noticed it immediately and, without hesitation, gently laid her down on the picnic rug to change her diaper.
When I opened the diaper, I was surprised to see it perfectly clean. But then my eyes locked onto something I hadn’t expected—a small, familiar birthmark on Sofia’s back. I stared at it for a moment, my heart skipping a beat. The mark was too identical to the one I had seen on David’s back so many times before. I froze, unable to process what I was seeing.
I finished changing Sofia, holding her in my arms, my mind spinning. I looked at her tiny face, my heart heavy with confusion. “Could it be?” I wondered, my thoughts racing. “Is there a connection between David and Fiona that I didn’t know about?”
As the afternoon went on, I kept my feelings to myself, pretending everything was normal. We chatted and laughed, but deep down, my mind was swirling with questions. I couldn’t help but wonder about the closeness between David and Fiona. It now felt like a clue in a puzzle I hadn’t known I was trying to solve.
That night, back in the comfort of our quiet home, I continued to treat David the way I always had. But the image of that birthmark haunted me. When I helped David dry off after his shower, something we often did together, my eyes couldn’t help but wander to the familiar mark on his back. It was the same. There was no denying it.
My heart sank. The possibility that David had been lying to me all these years was too painful to bear. I didn’t know what to think anymore.
Later, lying in bed, I whispered to myself, “I need to know if Fiona is his mistress.” The thought of it made my stomach churn. I knew the only way to get answers was through a DNA test.
The next time Fiona visited, I forced myself to act normal, as though nothing was wrong. I even picked up Sofia and cradled her in my arms, letting her warmth calm my nerves.
“You know, Sofia and I might as well move in here,” Fiona laughed, her tone light-hearted.
“Of course, we’re family,” I replied with an awkward chuckle, hoping Fiona didn’t notice my unease.
When Fiona wasn’t paying attention, I saw my chance. I quickly gathered DNA samples: Sofia’s saliva and some of David’s hair. He looked at me, confused, as I pulled a strand from his head, but I shrugged it off.
“Relax, I just helped you pull something out of your head,” I said with a grin, pretending everything was normal even though my heart was pounding in my chest.
I rushed to send the samples off, eager for the results. Every moment felt like an eternity. I wanted answers, and I needed them as soon as possible.
With every visit Fiona made, my discomfort grew. Her casual chats and teasing felt like daggers. One day, she tried talking to me while I was lying on the couch pretending to be sick, hoping to avoid the conversation. But she and David joined me, their laughter making my nerves fray even more.
“So, Sofia’s going to be two soon,” David said, smiling down at the baby. “I wonder what her first words will be.”
I couldn’t help but snap. “I don’t know. Maybe ‘poo-poo,’ for all we know,” I muttered.
David chuckled. “I think it’ll be ‘dada,’” he said proudly, puffing out his chest.
That was it. I couldn’t take it anymore. I shot to my feet, pointing at them both. “That’s enough! Tell me the truth—Sofia is your child!” I yelled, my voice trembling with anger. “I saw the birthmark on your back and hers. Don’t try to deny it!”
The words felt like they were tearing me apart, but I had to say them. My voice softened as tears started to fill my eyes. “Every time I ask about Sofia’s father, you never tell me the truth. Just tell me!”
David and Fiona sat in shocked silence, their faces pale. They didn’t say anything, and the silence confirmed the suspicions that had been building in my heart. I turned and fled outside, not knowing where I was going, but feeling the weight of betrayal crush me.
I drove aimlessly, hoping the distance would help me think. But my stomach betrayed me, and I ended up throwing up everything I had eaten. In the hotel bathroom, I stared at myself in the mirror, the reality of what was happening hitting me. Could I be pregnant? The thought made my head spin, and I felt sick to my core.
The next morning, I went to a pharmacy and bought a pregnancy test. “I’ll take any brand,” I said, my voice tight with anxiety. I needed answers, even though I was afraid of what I might find.
Back in my hotel room, I nervously waited for the result. When I saw two lines appear, I knew. I was pregnant.
David’s constant calls only added to the weight I was already carrying. Trapped, and with no money left, I decided to return home. I had to confront them both, get my things, and leave.
When I walked through the door, Fiona greeted me with a smile. “Carmen, I’m glad you’re back. There’s so much we need to talk about.”
But I didn’t care. I brushed past her, my mind made up. I was leaving.
David tried to stop me, shouting, “Listen to me, Fiona is my sister!” But I didn’t care anymore.
“Even if she is, it doesn’t matter,” I muttered, packing my bags. “It’s not unheard of.”
David pleaded, “I swear, Fiona is my sister, and Sofia is my niece. Please trust me. I would never cheat on you.”
I paused for a moment and, with bitterness in my voice, I snapped, “If it looks like a rat and smells like one, what should I call it?”
David, desperate now, blocked my way. “If you don’t believe me, let’s take a DNA test,” he suggested, hoping to clear things up.
“I already took one,” I said coldly, my heart sinking.
At that moment, Fiona appeared in the doorway, her expression a mixture of sadness and frustration. “Don’t say anything. I saw the birthmark. I know the truth,” I said, tears streaming down my face. “I’ve already had a DNA test.”
To my shock, Fiona lifted her shirt, revealing the same birthmark. “I have the same birthmark,” she said softly. “It’s a family trait.”
“I’m sorry for not telling you the truth sooner,” Fiona added. “Sofia’s father was a commissioned officer. He passed away overseas before she was born. I can’t help but feel angry at him for leaving us, but I also feel guilty for that.”
David spoke softly, “I treated Sofia like my own because Fiona wanted her to have a male figure in her life. That’s all.”
But even with their explanations, doubts lingered in my mind. Fiona hadn’t attended our wedding, and that still bothered me.
David continued, “Sofia was sick around our wedding, but I asked Fiona to move closer so she wouldn’t be alone. It took time, but it finally happened.”
They explained that most of their family lived abroad and that the few remaining relatives hated traveling. I felt a pang of shame for ever doubting them. I admitted to taking the secret DNA test, and Fiona accepted it calmly.
“I don’t mind,” she said. “As long as it clears up this misunderstanding.”
I couldn’t wait any longer. We went to the institution together to get the results. The anticipation was unbearable.
The doctor led us to a room and presented the results. David’s eyes widened in disbelief. “This can’t be right!” he exclaimed.
I grabbed the documents from the doctor’s hands, desperately hoping they were correct. To my relief, they weren’t. The test had been wrong, and the second one confirmed that David wasn’t Sofia’s father.
David sighed with relief. “I’m glad the first test was wrong,” he said, laughing nervously.
Fiona added, “Even if the second test said David was Sofia’s father, I would have insisted on another one.”
Back at home, the tension began to lift. I apologized to both of them for doubting them. “It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have let my suspicions get the best of me,” David said, shaking his head.
“We’re family,” Fiona added, hugging me tightly. “I should have told you the truth about Sofia’s father.”
We stayed in that embrace until the sound of Sofia’s giggles interrupted us. I couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief and happiness. Everything was back to normal.
Months later, after I gave birth to our baby boy, Zack, I was surprised to see so many cars parked outside our house. “I didn’t realize your family was this excited about a new baby,” I whispered to David, holding Zack tightly in my arms.
David laughed and wrapped his arms around me. “It’s not just my family, it’s all of us,” he said. And as we stood there, ready to meet the rest of our family, I realized how much we had been through. But now, we were stronger than ever.
