«He’s not my son,» blurted the husband during Sunday dinner, but the DNA test would soon reveal something quite different.
«I don’t see the point of this charade, Emily,» Margaret set the vase of flowers in the middle of the table, eyeing the place settings critically. «You and David have been at each other’s throats for weeks. Do you really think pretending everything’s fine will help?»
Emily said nothing as she polished the crystal glasses, running the soft cloth along their delicate rims. These had been a wedding gift from her mother-in-law on their tenth anniversaryback when it had seemed they had decades ahead of them. Now, five years later, even sharing a meal felt like an ordeal.
«Mum, Jack is fifteen. He already knows something’s wrong,» Emily finally replied. «But I want him to see that David and I can still act like decent people, even when things are hard. Family matters.»
Margaret sighed and shook her head. At sixty-three, she was sharp as ever, unwavering in her opinions. After her husband passed, she’d moved in with Emily and Jack, becoming their rock.
«Your father, God rest his soul, used to say, ‘A rotten bridge wont bear a heavy cart.’ Forgive my bluntness, love, but your marriage is that bridge right now.»
Emily set the last glass down and turned to the window. The April evening painted the sky in soft pinks. Somewhere in London, her husband David would be finishing work. Would he even come home? These past three months, he’d been distantlate nights, cold shoulders, barely a word when he did return.
«Some things need settling, Mum. For Jack’s sake.»
A lanky teenager burst in, stuffing notebooks into his backpack.
«Mum, I’m off to Ben’s. We’ve got physics homework.»
«Not so fast,» Emily caught him by the sleeve. «Family dinner tonight, remember? Dad’s coming.»
Jack rolled his eyes with an exaggerated sigh.
«Seriously? He hasnt been home all week. You really think he cares?»
«Jack!» Margaret scolded. «Dont speak about your father like that. He works hard for this family.»
«Yeah, especially on weekends and evenings,» the boy muttered. «Mum, come oncant I just go? Ill be back by seven, promise.»
Emily hesitated. Jack had been withdrawing lately, spending less time at home. Maybe letting him go *would* ease the tension.
«Fine. But be back by seven. Your father has something important to tell you.»
When hed gone, Margaret shook her head.
«That boy knows somethings off, Emily. Dont lie to him. If its over between you and David, tell him straight.»
«Its not over, Mum,» Emily turned away to hide the tears welling in her eyes. «Just a rough patch. Every marriage has them.»
Margaret opened her mouth to argue, but the front door clicked open. David was home early. Emily wiped her eyes and forced a smile.
«Hello,» she called into the hallway.
David gave a wordless nod as he hung up his coat. He looked exhaustedhollow. Tall, broad-shouldered, with flecks of grey at his temples, hed always been her steady anchor. Twenty years together, fifteen married. Shed thought they knew everything about each other. But these past months, hed become a stranger.
«Jack here?» he asked, moving toward the kitchen.
«At a friends, but hell be back by seven. You wanted to talk to him?»
David nodded, avoiding her gaze. He greeted Margaret and sat at the table.
«Tea, love?» Margaret offered. «Dinners not for another half hour.»
«No, thanks,» he pulled out his phone and began scrolling.
Emily exchanged a glance with her mother. The air was thick with tension.
«Ill check the roast,» Margaret murmured, tactfully retreating to the kitchen.
Emily sat across from David.
«Can we talk?»
He looked up, and for the first time in months, she saw real pain in his eyesnot just irritation or weariness.
«About what?» His voice was flat.
«About *us*. About whatevers happening. Youre never home, we dont speak»
«Whats left to say, Emily?» He set the phone down. «Do we even *have* anything left to say?»
«Of course we do!» She leaned forward. «David, fifteen years together. Does it really end like this? Without even a proper conversation?»
He studied her for a long moment, then shook his head.
«Lets wait for Jack. Ive got something to say to both of you.»
A chill ran through her. Something irreversible loomed over their familyshe could *feel* it.
At seven, Jack returned, buzzing with energy, oblivious to the strained atmosphere.
«Dad, hey!» He grinned, shaking Davids hand. «Hows work? You said youd tell me about the new project!»
David managed a faint smile and clapped his sons shoulder.
«Later, mate. Lets eat first.»
Dinner passed in near-silence. Margaret tried filling the gaps with neighborhood gossip; Jack rambled about school. Nothing stuck. David barely touched his food, staring blankly at his plate.
«Dessert?» Emily offered as the plates were cleared. «I made your favouritetreacle tart.»
«No.» Davids voice was firm. «We need to talk. Properly.»
Margaret started to rise.
«Ill give you some privacy»
«Stay.» Davids tone left no room for argument. «This concerns all of us.»
Emilys stomach twisted. He looked resolutealmost angry. Shed never seen him like this.
«Ive thought a lot about how to say this,» David began, eyes fixed on the table. «But theres no easy way.» He lifted his gaze to Jack. «I cant live a lie anymore. Your son isnt mine, Emily.»
The silence was deafening. Emily couldnt breathe. Jack froze, mouth open. Margaret gasped, a hand flying to her chest.
«*What?*» Emily finally choked out. «What are you *saying*?»
«I know everything,» David said quietly, each word sharp as a blade. «About you and James. Before our wedding. He told me last week. Said he couldnt keep it secret anymore.»
«*James?*» Emily stared between her husband and son, stunned. «I havent seen him in *years*!»
«Stop lying.» David slammed a fist on the table, rattling the china. «He showed me the letters. The photos. Said you met up while I was in Manchester. A month before we married. The dates add up, Emily. I *checked*.»
Jack shot up from his chair, face white.
«Whatwhats happening?» His voice cracked. «Youre… not my dad?»
«David, *stop this*,» Emily stood too. «Youre not thinking straight! Jack is *your* sonI never cheated on you!»
«Why would he lie?» David shook his head. «James said he always regretted letting you go. Now hes divorcedwants to start over. With you. And… his son.»
Jack bolted from the table, slamming his bedroom door behind him. Something crashed against the wall. Emily moved to follow, but Margaret held her back.
«Give him time,» she said softly. Then, to David: «And youyoud believe some *stranger* over the woman youve loved for fifteen years?»
«Hes not a stranger,» David said tiredly. «He was my *friend*. Until he stole my fiancée. Now hes finishing the job.»
Emily sank into her chair, legs giving way. Suddenly, it made sense. James *had* pursued her years ago. They *had* met before the weddinghed begged her not to marry David, confessed his feelings. Shed turned him down. Thered been *no* affair. And now, all these years later… this was revenge. Calculated, cruel, and fifteen years in the making.
«David, listen,» she fought to keep her voice steady. «I *did* see James before the wedding. Once. At a café. He asked me not to marry you. I said no. Thats *it*. Nothing happened.»
«And the letters? The photos?» David pulled a crumpled envelope from his pocket. «Ill never forget our night. Your handwriting, Emily. Id know it anywhere.»
Hands trembling, she took the letter. The writing *did* look like hersbut shed *never* written those words.
«This is fake,» she whispered. «David, I didnt write this.»
«Enough!» He stood, face twisted with grief. «Fifteen years raising another mans child. Fifteen years of lies. Im *done*. The divorce papers come tomorrow.»
He grabbed his coat and left. The front door slammed. The house fell silent.
Emily sat motionless, trying to process it all. How had James faked her writing? *Why?* What had she ever done to deserve such hatred?
«What now?» Margaret murmured, pulling her close. «Jacks shattered. Davids lost his mind. How do we prove its all lies?»
Emily lifted her head, resolve hardening.
«A DNA test. Its the only way.»
The next day, she took Jack to a private clinic. He was withdrawn, silentolder somehow.
«Mum… what if hes right?» he asked as they waited for the test. «What if hes… not my dad?»
«He *is*,» Emily squeezed his shoulder. «Ive never doubted that.»
«But those letters»
«Fakes. James always knew how to manipulate people. This is his way of punishing me for choosing your father.»
Jack was quiet a long time. Then, softly:
«If… if Dad wasnt my real father… would you love me less?»
Emilys throat tightened.
«Never,» she hugged him fiercely. «Youre *my* son. Nothing will ever change that.»
Results would take three days. But they needed Davids DNA.
«How do we get him to take the test?» Margaret fretted that evening. «He wont even answer his phone.»
«Ive got his toothbrush. His hairbrush,» Emily said firmly. «Its enough.»
The wait was agony. Jack skipped school. David stayed gone. Emily refreshed her email obsessively.
On the fourth day, the results arrived. Hands shaking, she scanned the medical jargonthen saw it: *Probability of paternity: 99.9%.*
«Mum!» She raced to Margarets room. «*Look!* David *is* Jacks father!»
Margaret crossed herself.
«Thank God. Though I never doubted. Now we show David.»
But David still wouldnt answer. Emily took a desperate riskgoing to his office.
At the engineering firm, the receptionist eyed her warily. «Mr. Thompsons on leave. Hes not seeing anyone.»
«This is about his *son*,» Emily said coldly. «If he doesnt come out now, Ill make a scene youll never forget.»
Five minutes later, David emergedunshaven, red-eyed.
«What do you want?»
Silently, she handed him the test. He scanned it, face shiftingdisbelief, shock, dawning horror.
«This… this is real?»
«DNA doesnt lie,» Emily said. «But James did.»
David sank into a chair, head in his hands.
«Christ. What have I *done*? Jack, he must»
«Hes devastated,» Emily said flatly. «You *crushed* him. How could you believe that, David? After all these years?»
«He was so *convincing*,» David looked up, haunted. «The letters, the photos… And weve been so distant lately»
«We were distant because you worked yourself to the bone,» Emily snapped. «Not because I *cheated*.»
A long silence. Then, quietly:
«Can you ever forgive me?»
«I dont know,» she said honestly. «But for Jacks sake, Ill try. He needs his father. Hes waiting at home.»
That evening, David returned with flowers for Emily and a new console for Jack. Their talk lasted hours. When they emerged, both had been cryingbut Jack smiled.
«Its okay, Mum,» he said. «Me and Dad sorted it. People mess up.»
Margaret wiped her eyes and bustled off to cook a celebratory dinner. David took Emilys hands.
«I was a fool. I dont deserve you. But I love youboth of youmore than anything. Ill spend the rest of my life making this up to you.»
Emily studied himthe exhaustion, the regret, the love still there. She nodded slowly.
«Itll take time, David. Trust doesnt rebuild overnight.»
«I know,» he squeezed her hand. «But well get there. Together.»
A week later, James turned up on their doorsteppanicked.
«Emily, pleaseI never meant for it to go this far,» he babbled. «I was drunk, angry»
David shut the door in his face. Then turned to his family.
«No one comes between us again. Ever.»
Emily smiled. For the first time in weeks, the storm clouds were parting. Thered be hard conversations, tears, work to rebuild what was broken. But theyd chosen each otherchosen *family*and that was enough.
«I love you,» she said simply, hugging them both. «My boys. The most important people in my life.»
Jack groaned, embarrassed, but hugged back. David kissed Emilys forehead.
«Forgive me. Ill never doubt you again.»
Outside, a new day began. And for the first time in too long, they faced it togethera family tested, but stronger for it.
