I suspected my wife of being unfaithful because she gave birth to a son—our third boy in a row.

My name is Edward. Ive always thought of myself as incredibly fortunate in life, mainly because Ive had the joy of becoming a husband and a father. I married Abigail, who Id loved ever since our school days. She patiently waited for me while I served in the military, and when I got back to London, we tied the knot.

Our first child, our eldest son, William, was born not long after. Three years later, our second son, Oliver, arrived. Yet, deep down, I always wished for a daughter. Even when Abigail was expecting for the very first time, I told everyone how much I longed for a little girl. People were surprised youd think most men dream of sons, but my heart was set on a daughter. Still, Abigail gave birth to a son, and three years later, another boy blessed our family.

Abigail and I had a wonderful life; our boys were growing quickly. Then one day, quite unexpectedly, Abigail told me she was pregnant again. I couldnt believe it a third child hadnt exactly been in our plans. Still, I was over the moon that my beloved wife was carrying another child.

This time, Im sure itll be a girl! Abigail grinned, and I couldnt help but laugh and hope she was right.

Both our mums took one look at Abigails bump and insisted it was definitely going to be a girl, and the ultrasound seemed to agree. We were so excited. Even our boys picked out a name for their new baby sister.

The day finally arrived, and I drove Abigail to the hospital in the early hours of the morning. I barely slept a wink, worrying and waiting. I kept thinking about how my lovely Abigail was doing and whether we were finally blessed with a daughter. In the morning, I called the hospital and they told me wed had another boy, weighing 7 pounds and 1 ounce, 54cm tall.

I couldnt quite process the news surely there must be a mix-up? We had all expected a girl! But no, there was no mistake: Abigail and I were parents to a third son. No one could hide their surprise; we were all so certain it was going to be a girl. I couldnt wrap my head around how the sonographer could have got it so wrong. I rang Abigail and, half joking, half serious, blurted out:

Abby, did you fool about with the bloke next door?
What on earth are you talking about? she replied, her voice incredulous. Whats got into you?
But it was meant to be a girl!
Youre being ridiculous! Abigail was clearly cross, and promptly hung up.

When Abby was discharged, I met her and our son at the hospital. We came home together. She gently opened up the blanket, and I laid eyes on our tiny, helpless bundle. All at once, any doubts melted away. I was completely smitten. The little fellow needed all our love and care, and I felt a sudden rush of love for my son.

Four and a half years have since passed. Our third son Harry, as we named him is learning to ride his scooter, and its me whos teaching him. I notice that he doesnt look anything like me. If anything, hes a little like Abigail, while William and Oliver are the spitting image of me.

One afternoon, I overheard the old ladies in our street gossiping about how Harry doesnt resemble me at all.

Have you seen how much Harry looks like John from number 17? one of them whispered.

That stung. I went straight to Abigail and asked outright who Harrys father really was.

Not this again! she snapped. How can you accuse me like that? I cant believe youd think I was unfaithful thats just nonsense!
I just want to know the truth. Remember when John gave you a lift home from work once?
He did, yes and I was already pregnant! I felt rotten that day and could barely carry the shopping, so John offered me a ride. Thats all. Surely thats not a crime?
No, its not, but Harry doesnt look anything like me.

We ended up having a huge row. Abigail was furious. I decided to press for a DNA test, but she outright refused at first. Two weeks later, she suddenly agreed, warning that once we had the results, that would be the end of us. I assumed she was just fuming with me. We made plans for the test nonetheless.

One day, while I was taking the rubbish out, I saw John. Hes 35, never married, and I caught myself scrutinising him, searching for any likeness between him and Harry. It hit me then he looked nothing like our son, either.

Sitting in the kitchen, lost in thought, Harry came dashing in and leapt onto my lap, wrapping his arms around me and chattering away. In that moment, everything felt right. What was I playing at, letting silly doubts cloud my mind? I realised I didnt need any test. Harry was my son simple as that. I gathered him up and went to find Abigail.

We dont need to bother with the tests!
What do you mean? I was just about to agree to it, to prove to you once and for all that hes yours!
Its pointless. I know in my heart hes my son, and Im sorry for ever doubting you.

I spent a whole week apologising, begging Abigails forgiveness for even entertaining doubts about her faithfulness. Eventually, she forgave me. Our boys grew up. William got married, his wife soon expecting, and before long we became grandparents. The moment I heard our granddaughter was born, my heart burst with happiness. Finally, my wish had come true: I had a granddaughter to spoil.

One thing I know for certain is that Ill love her just as dearly as I love all three of my sons.