My son isnt mine, I announced after fifteen years of marriage, holding out the DNA report as proof.
Youre defending him again! Every single time you act as if he cant be held to account! I slammed a mug onto the table; tea sloshed onto the tablecloth.
Dont shout, Ellen whispered, her voice steely. Arthurs only fifteen. Hes still a child. They were playing with friends, got carried away, broke a window. Its not the end of the world.
A child? I sneered. At fifteen I was already doing summer jobs, helping my dad. And he? Hes hanging out with his mates and smashing glass! And this isnt the first time hes landed in trouble.
Listen, Ellen took a deep breath, fighting irritation. Arthur does well at school and swims. Yes, today they acted foolishly, but
But again! You always have an excuse for his misbehaviour. You know whats odd? His behaviour its nothing like the way we were raised. In my family we respected elders and never behaved like that.
What does your family have to do with it? Ellen shook her head. Times have changed, Dave.
It isnt about the times, I turned toward the window. Its about blood.
Ellen froze, confused by my meaning. Before I could elaborate the front door burst open. Arthur stormed in tall, lanky, dishevelled brown hair, grey eyes that mirrored his mothers.
Hey, he growled, tossing his backpack onto the floor.
If you ever throw anything at me again, youll regret it, I snapped.
Arthur rolled his eyes. Come off it, dad, its just a sack.
Its not just a sack, its your attitude to things, to this house, to the rules, I clenched my fists. We just got a call from Chriss parents. They said a window at school was smashed.
Arthur glanced at Ellen. We were just playing ball in the yard. It hit the window by accident.
Accidentally? I snorted. And it happened to be the headmasters office window?
How would I know it was the headmasters office?
If I had known, would I have aimed elsewhere? I said, bitterness creeping into my voice.
Dave, enough, Ellen intervened. Arthur, dinners on the stove. Eat and then get on with your homework.
Arthur nodded gratefully, grabbed his backpack and headed to the kitchen. I watched him go with a hard stare.
Dont you think youre being a bit harsh? Ellen asked as our son disappeared through the door.
Dont you think youre spoiling him? I retorted. No wonder.
What do you mean?
Nothing. Forget it, I waved my hand and left the room.
Ellen stood in the living room, a cold shiver crawling up her spine. Lately Id become unusually irritable, picking apart Arthurs every mistake. Our marriage had always been a tugofwarshe thought I was too strict, I thought she was too lenient. But in recent months there was a new edge to my grievances, as if some hidden resentment or suspicion had taken root.
The evening stretched in strained silence. Arthur locked himself in his room; I sat in the study; Ellen tried to read, but her thoughts kept circling my odd remark about blood.
Later, lying beside me in the dark, Ellen asked, Whats going on between you and Arthur? Why are you so quick to jump on him?
I stayed silent long enough for Ellen to assume I was asleep. Then I turned and whispered, I just want him to grow into a proper man. Responsible. Not like
Like who? she pressed.
Never mind. Sleep, I said, turning away.
Morning brought no relief. At breakfast the house was quiet. Arthur ate quickly and left for school, skipping the usual lecture from his dad. I stared at my phone, not looking up.
Im going to be late today, I said, finishing my coffee. Meeting with clients.
Alright, Ellen replied. Ill sort something for dinner.
No need, I stood. I dont know what time Ill be back.
The day dragged on. Ellen worked from home, translating articles for a scientific journal. Normally she could lose herself in the work, but today her mind kept replaying the blood comment, my strange behaviour, the widening gap between us.
Arthur returned from school in good spirits, saying hed patched things up with the headmaster and apologised for the window.
Weve decided to do some odd jobs this weekend to pay for the glass, he said, helping Ellen chop vegetables for a salad.
Thats a good idea, Ellen smiled. Dad will be pleased.
Arthur scoffed, I doubt it. Hes been dissatisfied with me no matter what I do.
Dont say that, Ellen said, patting his back. He just worries about you, wants you to become a decent person.
A decent person like him? Arthurs voice trembled with hurt. Who comes home and starts criticizing everyone?
Arthur, dont talk about your father like that, Ellen warned.
Sorry, he muttered, head down. Sometimes it feels like he never loved me. Never did.
Ellens heart clenched. She hugged him. Thats not true. He loves you; he just isnt always good at showing it.
Arthur shrugged, If you say so
I never made it to dinner. By ten oclock the house was quiet. Ellen tried calling me several times, but my phone was dead. That was unlike me I always gave a headsup if Id be late.
Arthur was already in bed when I finally turned the key in the lock. My steps were uneven; Ellen could tell Id been drinking.
Where have you been? I was worried, she said, meeting me at the kitchen doorway.
I looked at her with a strange, evaluating stare. Worried? Seriously?
Of course I was. You didnt answer my calls, you didnt say where you were
Ive been a model husband for fifteen years, I said, swaying slightly. Worked, provided, never asked questions. And you
What? Ellens voice grew cold.
You know what, I said, sinking into a chair. I always believed we had a decent family. Not perfect, but real. I trusted you.
You can still trust me, Ellen whispered. I never lied to you.
I smirked bitterly, pulling a folded sheet of paper from my pocket. Truth? Whats this?
Its the DNA test results, I spread the paper on the table. Your son isnt mine, Ellen. Fifteen years youve been leading me on.
The world seemed to tilt. Ellen grabbed the edge of the table to steady herself.
What? Which test? When did you?
A week ago, I said, a halfgrin on my lips. I told Arthur we needed a health check. He went for it. I got the results today.
Ellens hands trembled as she took the paper. The medical jargon blurred, but the headline was clear: Paternity excluded.
This cant be right, she whispered. There must be a mistake.
A mistake? I laughed, though there was no humour in it. Who is his father, Ellen?
Youre his father, Dave, she said firmly. You are. I never I never
I thought I knew, I said, shaking my head. Fifteen years. And now I discover Ive been raising someone elses child.
Ellens eyes widened in horror. Dave, this has to be an error. Maybe the lab mixed up samples, or?
Or what? I pressed. You had a fling before we married? While we were dating? When you cheated on me, Ellen?
Never! she shouted, tears welling. Ive only ever loved you.
Then explain this result! I slammed my palm on the paper. Explain why the DNA says Im not his father!
Mom? Dad? Whats happening? Arthur suddenly appeared in the doorway, hair messy from sleep, still in his tshirt and shorts. His face showed confusion.
Nothing, love, Ellen hurriedly said. Just grownup talk. Go back to bed.
Its his father, right? Arthur echoed, looking between us.
Dave, dont, Ellen pleaded. Not in front of him.
Why not? I asked, rising unsteady. He has a right to know. You have a right to know, Arthur. Do you want to know why Ive always been so strict? Because, deep down, I felt you werent my blood.
Dad, youre drunk, Arthur whispered, backing toward the door.
Im not your dad! I shouted, upending the mug. Look! I thrust the paper at him. DNA test. Scientific proof that Ive lived a lie for fifteen years.
Arthur skimmed the lines, his face paling. Is this true? he asked his mother.
No! Ellen lunged, hugging him. Its a terrible mistake.
Do you work in a lab? I asked savagely. Why are you so sure its an error?
Because I know, Ellen said, voice firm. I never cheated. I never had another man. Ive only ever been with you.
Arthur pulled away, bewildered. Whos my real father then?
Silence settled like a heavy blanket. I sank back into the chair, the anger draining from me. Ellen clasped her hands over her mouth, fighting back sobs.
I want the whole truth, Arthur said quietly. All of it.
Ellen nodded slowly. Youre right. You deserve to know. Its just difficult.
Whats difficult? I sneered. Just name the real dad.
Its not about names, Ellen sighed. Arthur, remember I talked about my sister Nora?
The one who died before I was born? In a car crash? he recalled.
Yes, Ellen sat down. Nora was my twin. We looked alike, but our temperaments were poles apart. She was bold, adventurous, always getting into scrapes. I was the quiet, homebound one.
I furrowed my brow. What does your sister have to do with this?
It matters because, Ellen looked straight at me, Nora was pregnant when the accident happened. She was seven months along. The doctors managed to save the babya boy.
Arthurs eyes widened. Arthur is Noras son?
Yes, Ellen whispered. We were just starting to date when it happened. Nora was alone; the father vanished as soon as he learned she was expecting. After the crash, her parents were devastated, and I decided to raise the child as my own.
So thats why you rushed into marriage, I muttered. I thought you were headoverheels for me.
I was headoverheels for you, Ellen pleaded. I loved you and believed youd accept the child.
And you never told me he wasnt mine! I snapped. You made me believe I was his father!
I wanted to tell you, tears streamed down Ellens cheeks. I was scared youd walk out. Then scared youd hate me. And then it was too late. Youd grown attached to Arthur, loved him as your own.
I stared at her, the anger mingling with something else. So youre not my mother? Arthur asked, voice trembling.
No, technically Im his aunt, Ellen said gently. But I raised him, loved him every day of his life. Hes always been my son.
Arthur stared at her, trying to process. What was my real mother like?
She was beautiful, brave, talented. Youve inherited her eyes and that laugh. When you smile I hear her voice.
And my real father? he asked.
I dont know, Ellen admitted. Nora never told. All I know is that he was a coward who ran when he learned about the baby.
I clutched my head with my hands. Fifteen years why didnt you tell me then?
I was scared, Ellen whispered. Scared of losing you. Then I thought the truth would only shatter everything. You loved Arthur, you were his father in every way that mattered. Does it matter whose blood runs through his veins?
The difference is trust, Ellen, I said, voice low. You decided for me. You took away my choice.
I know, she said, kneeling before me. Im guilty. I still love you. I still love Arthur more than anything.
I stared at Ellen, then at Arthur, and felt the weight of years press down. What do you feel? I asked him.
Arthur shrugged. I dont know. It all feels odd, like Im suddenly someone else.
Youre not someone else, Ellen said firmly. Youre still Arthur. You just know a bit more about where you come from.
Do you have pictures of my real mother? Arthur asked suddenly.
Yes, Ellen replied, nodding. A whole album. Ill show you everything I remember.
I rose from the table. I need some time alone to think.
Dave, Ellen rose too, I understand how you feel, but please dont make any rash decisions. Were a family. Fifteen years weve been a family.
A family built on lies isnt a family, I said, shaking my head. You deceived me all this time.
Yes, I deceived you, she agreed. But not Arthur. I loved him as my own. And you loved him as your own. Isnt that real? Isnt love more important than biology?
I stared at her for a long moment, then at Arthur. You know whats ironic? I ordered that test because I kept noticing Arthur didnt resemble meneither in looks nor temperament. I was angry at him for not being like me. Turns out
Turns out I could never have been like you, Arthur finished softly. Genetics.
Its not just genetics, I said suddenly, a steadier tone emerging. Im also at fault. For fifteen years I taught you to ride a bike, helped with homework, drove you to training. I love you. My anger lately was really at myself, because I sensed something was off but didnt know what.
What now? Arthur asked. What will happen?
I dont know, I admitted. I need time to sort this out.
Dave, Ellen stepped forward. Im sorry, truly. But dont walk away. Lets talk when the storm has passed.
I nodded. Well talk. Not now. I need space.
I headed for the door but stopped, turning back. Arthur, whatever happens between me and your Ellen know this: these fifteen years were genuine. I was your father then, and in some sense I always will be.
The door closed behind me. Ellen and Arthur remained in the kitchen, unsure where to look.
Do you hate me? Ellen asked quietly.
Arthurs grey eyes, echoing Noras, met hers. No. I dont know. Everythings tangled.
Yes, its tangled, she said. But Im certain of one thing: I love you, Arthur. I have loved you since the moment I first saw you, tiny and helpless, in the hospital. You were my sisters son, but to me you were always my son. That will never change.
What about dad? Will he come back? Arthur asked.
I dont know, Ellen sighed. Hes a good man, Arthur. Hes hurting right now.
Im hurting too, he admitted. It feels like Ive become someone else.
Youre still you, Ellen said, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. You just know a little more about your story. It doesnt change who you are.
Arthur nodded and suddenly embraced her. Thanks for never sending me away. For raising me as yours.
Ellen held him close, tears spilling over. You are my son. Always have been, always will be.
That night none of us slept. We sat in the kitchen, turning through old photo albums. Ellen showed pictures of two girls who were practically twinsher and Nora. She was a brilliant artist, Ellen said, smoothing the faded images. Dreamed of moving to the big city, becoming famous. I was the homebody, dreaming of family and children.
And she got both, Arthur whispered.
Yes, Ellen smiled through her tears. She got the most precious thingme, you.
The next morning, exhausted from a sleepless night, a knock sounded at the door. Dave stood there, unshaven, eyes reddened, but sober.
May I come in? he asked.
Ellen stepped aside. Dave entered the kitchen where Arthur was still leafing through the photographs.
Looks like youve had a long night, he said, sitting opposite them.
Seems so, Ellen replied.
Dave nodded. Ive thought a lot. Walked the streets until dawn. I was angry, trying to figure out what to do next.
And? Ellen waited, breath held.
And I realised nothing has changed, he said, looking at Arthur. Youve been my son for fifteen years. That wont disappear because aHe finally embraced both of them, realizing that family is defined by love and commitment, not by a strand of DNA.
