After Four Daughters, My Husband Finally Got the Son He'd Been Begging For – But When He Held Our Newborn Boy for the First Time, His Words Made My Stomach Drop
Relief came first.
Diana watched him go. "You didn't tell him."
"He deserves to hear it from Aaron. Not me."
****
A week after I mailed the swab, the results landed in my inbox. I opened the PDF on my phone in Diana's kitchen. My hands were steadier than I expected.
'Probability of paternity: 99.99%.'
I read the number again.
I wasn't going to beg this time.
For one stupid second, relief came first. Then anger swallowed it.
A week ago, I would have called Aaron immediately. I would have cried into the phone, told him we were okay, begged him to come home and put all of this behind us.
My thumb hovered over his name.
Then I remembered him pulling his hand away from mine in the hospital. I remembered begging him to look at me while he walked toward the door.
"I am so, so sorry."
I wasn't going to beg this time.
I forwarded it to Aaron. No subject line. No message. Just the attachment.
He was on the porch within the hour.
I opened the door and stayed in the frame. I did not invite him in.
"Please let me hold him."
"Elena." His voice broke on my name. "Elena, I am so sorry. I am so, so sorry."
"You saw the file."
"I saw it. I read it four times."
"Good."
"Please. Please let me hold him. Let me come home."
"Call Michael."
I looked at Aaron. He was crying openly.
"Aaron, one question. Answer it honestly."
"Anything."
"Then why does our son have Michael's birthmark?"
"Start with the birthmark."
His face went blank. Whatever apology he'd rehearsed died in his throat.
"Call Michael."
"What?"
"You heard me. Call him."
"Elena, I don't even know what I'm asking."
"Then start with the birthmark."
For a moment, he didn't move. I held out my hand.
"Give me the phone."
That did it. Aaron pulled it from his pocket and called.
"Tell him yes."
Michael answered on the third ring.
