Fifteen years after we had raised our son together, my husband suddenly said:
— I’ve always had doubts. It’s time to do a DNA test.
I laughed, because even the thought seemed absurd. But my laughter quickly faded when we actually went to take the tests.
It happened on a Tuesday. We were having dinner together. Suddenly he looked at me in a way that made me freeze inside.
— I’ve wanted to say this for a long time, — he said, — but I didn’t want to hurt you. Our son doesn’t look like me.
— But he looks like your mother, we’ve discussed this! — I tried to object.
— Still. I want the test. Or we’ll get divorced.
I loved my husband deeply and adored our son. I was certain of my fidelity: I had never been with another man, and I loved only him. But for peace of mind, we went to the clinic and gave the samples.
The results were ready in a week. The doctor called and asked me to come immediately. In the hallway, I felt my hands shaking. When I entered, he lifted his eyes from the paper and said seriously:
— You’d better sit down.
— Why, doctor? What’s there? — I felt my heart pounding.
And then came the words that turned my life upside down… 
To be continued in the first comment 
