That condition made the room go silent. “If we’re going to question the legitimacy of our son, then I think it’s only fair we question the legitimacy of other relationships in the family, too. I want a DNA test for Denise and Adam.”
Adam looked at me, stunned. I could see the conflict in his eyes—the loyalty to his mother battling with the trust in his wife. But after a moment, he nodded in agreement. This wasn’t about retaliation; it was about fairness. If I was going to be subjected to doubt, then the same standard should apply to everyone.
Weeks passed, and the air was thick with tension. Denise avoided me more than usual, her gaze colder than the winter air outside. Adam was caught in the middle, juggling his mother’s insecurities and my quiet resolve.
Finally, the day arrived—the results came in on Ethan’s first birthday. Our house was filled with laughter, the aroma of cake, and the innocent joy of a one-year-old who didn’t have a clue about the drama unfolding around him. As the party reached its peak, I stood up, the envelope clutched in my hand.
