Husband Insists on DNA Test – Mother Becomes Overwhelmed

Look, Im not going to raise someone who isnt mine Tomorrow Ill find a clinic and well do a DNA test.
What? Evelyns legs gave way. Are you serious? James, weve been together three years. I never gave you any reason
Well see, he cut in, a crooked grin on his face. If its mine, Ill step up, no questions, Ill even apologise. If it isnt

The phone on the nightstand buzzed, and Evelyn rolled her eyes it was her husband again. She snatched the device, unlocked it, and the flood of messages shed sent in the early hours, while sobbing into her pillow, poured out.

Why so long?
Your mum called, wants to know. You coming soon?
Eve, I cant believe you still havent given birth after sixteen hours! What are the doctors saying? Why are you silent, I cant work it out!

The last one, sent seven minutes ago: Im downstairs. Come to the window.

Evelyn exhaled, feeling a sudden urge to cry. She tried to prop herself up on her elbows but couldnt. Everything ached, the epidural had long since worn off, even moving was a struggle.

Oh, Lord she whispered, letting her head sink back onto the pillow.

The phone rang again, and she had to answer James wasnt about to give her peace.

Hello? she croaked. James, hi.

Why arent you getting up? he barked, not even bothering with a greeting. How many times do I have to ask? You read my messages and never answer! Im standing by the secondfloor windows. Show me the baby.

Evelyn shut her eyes.

James, I cant.

Cant what?

I cant get up. I gave birth five hours ago, James, they stitched me up. I cant sit, walking hurts. I cant even reach the sill.

A heavy silence hung for a moment, then Jamess voice turned sour.

Others are waving out there, he muttered. Theres a woman with a stroller in the next flat. And you? Special?

Im in pain, James. Please, stop.

What do you mean stop? Am I not the father? I want to see my son!

You know, Im standing here like a daft fool with flowers, freezing. Raise your arse and get to the window!

Evelyn could hold back no longer a quiet sob escaped. All she wanted was for him to say, Darling, how are you? Rest, I love you, to show a sliver of pity, but instead

I cant lift the baby, she whispered. Theyve told me not to get up until at least evening. Go home, James

She hung up, but three seconds later the line rang again. Evelyn flipped the phone facedown. Tears streamed like rain; how could he treat her like this?

A nurse popped into the ward, immediately looking concerned.

Mum, why are you crying? Stop that right now! Lets calm down

The milk will spoil, the baby will be hungry. Let me help you sit up, time to feed. Whats bothering you?

My husband Evelyn sniffed. He wants to see the baby at the window. I cant

The nurse clicked her tongue, smoothing the blanket, and slipped into a familiar you.

Those restless ones, eh? Tell him to clear his head: this is a maternity ward, not the circus!

Hes demanding, isnt he?

Dont weep, its not worth it.

Stay down, you need to regain strength. Think of the baby first.

James kept texting, one after another. Evelyn read them, and each line chilled her deeper.

Hiding, are you?
Show the child, Im asking! Is he healthy?
Maybe hes not mine, since youre hiding him?
A proper mum shows the first child. And youre hiding.

Evelyn felt a cold dread. What had happened to the man shed spent three years with? Hed never acted like this before! Shed thought shed married a solid bloke, someone whod be her rock forever. Turns out shed been wrong.

Summoning what little strength she had, she reached into the incubator. The newborn slept, his tiny nose crinkled in a funny way. He was a perfect little bundle, pink and wrinkled, a dark tuft of hair sprouting on his head. She snapped a photo. Her hands shook, the picture came out a bit blurry, but his face was visible. She hit send.

The reply was instant.

Whats this?

Evelyn typed back:

Our son. Charlie.

James called straight away.

Evelyn, are you an idiot or what?

What are you talking about? she said, confused.

Look at him! Hes black!

Black? James, are you losing it? Hes red, hes just been born!

The hair! James roared, so loudly Evelyn pulled the phone away. My hairs brown, yours is dyed blonde, but Im lighthaired. And his its like coal! Whose kid is this? The neighbours? The taxi drivers?

Evelyn gagged with outrage.

Are you mad? she exhaled. Most newborns have dark hair that lightens later!

His skin is red because the vessels are close to the surface! Ask any doctor!

Dont try to cure me here! James cut in. Im not blind. White parents have white babies.

And this well, you see why you didnt come to the window.

She whispered, Youre such a and hung up.

She blocked his number, tears choking her so she could barely breathe. The baby in the incubator let out a soft squeak, demanding attention.

Evelyn managed to swing her legs over the side of the bed, wincing at the stitches, and cradled the child.

Its okay, Charlie, she murmured, rocking him, swallowing salty tears. Its okay. Weve got each other, and thats all we need. Right, my little gold?

Three days in the hospital drifted like fog. Evelyn barely slept: feeding, changing nappies, listening to nurses advice, while one thought looped in her head how to get home?

James stopped calling. He only sent dry texts: What to buy? What time to collect? No I love you, no I miss you.

The discharge papers read like a farce. Evelyn shuffled into the lobby, pale, dark circles under her eyes that no concealer could hide. A nurse followed, triumphantly bearing an envelope tied with a blue ribbon.

James stood at the doorway, a wilted bouquet of roses in hand, clearly bought from a cheap kiosk. His face was stone, no hint of joy. Beside him, his mother, Margaret Thompson, shifted from foot to foot.

Congratulations! the nurse shouted a little too loudly, handing the envelope to the father.

James took the baby, grimacing. He held the envelope outstretched, looking over his wifes shoulder. He didnt even glance at his sons face.

Thanks, he muttered.

Margaret nudged the corner of the envelope.

Oh, look how tiny! Sleeping? Thank heavens, thats a relief. Lets get home, no point staying.

The car ride was silent. James drove aggressively, jerking the steering wheel, slamming on brakes at every light. Evelyn sat in the back, clutching Charlie tightly.

Could you be a bit more careful? she snapped as the car jolted over a pothole. Youre driving a baby!

Im driving fine, James snapped back, eyeing the rearview mirror. If you dont like it, walk.

At home, a clatter echoed. James tossed his keys onto the hall table without even taking his shoes off, then stalked into the kitchen.

Anything to eat? he shouted.

Evelyn stared, stunned.

James, Ive just been in the hospital for three days. Ive just walked in! Where am I supposed to get food?

Order something. Or should I stand at the stove? I was working while you were resting.

He spat the word resting with such sarcasm it made Evelyns blood run cold. She placed Charlie in the crib theyd picked out together a month ago and shuffled to the kitchen.

Can we talk? she whispered, leaning against the doorframe. It still hurt to stand.

Sure, he put his phone down. I just talked to the lads and my mum.

The lads? she repeated. Youre discussing our son with the lads?

Im discussing the situation! he barked, slamming his palm on the table. Evelyn, cut the drama. The baby doesnt look like me at all. Not even a hint!

Hes only three days old, James! He doesnt look like anyone yet!

Stop trying to convince me! he sprang up. Im not some fool, Evelyn! I see what I see. Hes dark. His eyes are almost black. No one in our family is like that.

He moved in close.

Bottom line, Im not raising someone elses child. Tomorrow Im finding a clinic, well do a DNA test.

Little Charlie whined in the incubator.

Go calm him down, James muttered, turning toward the window. Hes crying like a banshee. Of course hes a little scamp. Thats not my temperament; Ive always been calm.

Evelyn stared at his broad back, the familiar Tshirt shed ironed for him before the birth, and realised the James shed known was gone. She no longer had a family.

She turned, walked into the nursery, lifted the baby to her chest he settled instantly, feeling her warmth.

Shh, little one, shh she whispered. Im here. Mums right beside you

James peeked in five minutes later.

So? Ready for the test? Or scared?

Evelyn met his gaze.

Do it, she said evenly. Find the clinic, pay the fee. Do your test.

Right on, he smirked. Could have done that sooner.

But remember, James, she interrupted calmly. When the results come back and they say youre the father

He tensed.

What?

youll realise youve lost not just me but also the child. Ill never forgive you for that.

Youre not just doubting; youre dragging me through mud when I need help.

James scoffed, waving his hand.

Oh, spare the drama. Manipulative nonsense. Youll thank me later when the questions are settled.

He drifted to the lounge, flicked on the TV, mumbling a sitcom. Evelyn looked at Charlie, his tiny mouth smacking in sleep, the dark hair that had driven James mad brushing her cheek.

Its okay, she murmured, kissing his forehead. Let the paperwork do its thing.

Two months later, Evelyns phone rang a call from her exhusband. She hesitated, then answered.

Evelyn, please, James pleaded. Come back home! Ive realised everything! Im sorry for the test! Ive proved Charlie is mine, Ill pay full child support, every penny, I wont ask for any settlement back! Please, just

Evelyn hung up. James had eventually done the test, the results were positive, and she promptly filed for divorce, child support, and a split of the joint assets. She moved into a flat her parents had helped rent for her. And, frankly, she was happier. Why would she stay with a traitor?