Not everyone saw it that way. His mother, Helen, always made cutting remarks:
“Isn’t that curious? In our family, the children always resemble their parents. Caleb is dark-haired, with strong features. Lucas, on the other hand, is blond, with enormous blue eyes.”
“He takes after his mother. It’s that simple.”
But Helen didn’t give up. On Lucas’s fourth birthday, she showed up unannounced:
“I want Caleb to take a DNA test,” she declared.
“I won’t,” Caleb replied, crossing his arms. “Lucas is my son. I don’t need proof.”
Helen narrowed her eyes:
“How can you be so sure? You don’t know who she was with.”
“Don’t talk about me like I am not here!” I shouted.
“I know he’s not your biological son,” Helen insisted. “All the children in our family look like their father. Admit who the real father is, so Caleb doesn’t waste time.”
“I never thought you were a faithful wife,” she retorted coldly.
“Stop it!” Caleb shouted. “I trust my wife. I know she hasn’t cheated on me. I won’t take the test.”
“So, what are you afraid of? Prove it!” Helen hissed, a predatory smile spreading across her face.
“The conversation is over,” he said firmly.
Helen left, but before she did, she whispered:
“One day you’ll realize I was right.”
The Breakdown
I tried to forget it, but her words stung.
But one afternoon I came home and froze in the doorway. Caleb was on the sofa, his head in his hands. Helen was beside him, her hand on his shoulder. My blood ran cold.
“Where’s Lucas?” I asked.
“He’s fine,” Caleb said softly. “I took him to your mother.”
“What’s going on?”
He looked at me, his eyes red.
“What’s going on?” My wife lied to me all these years!
My legs buckled.
“What are you talking about?” I asked.
She threw me a piece of paper. It was the DNA test.
Caleb and Lucas.
Probability of paternity: 0%
The letters blurred before my eyes.
“This can’t be… did you take the test?” I whispered.
