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My husband's mother never cared about me, but after my son was born, things took a turn I didn't expect. My loyalty was tested, so I agreed to a DNA test—but only if the rules were fair.
I was there for Ben from the very beginning—when he lost two jobs and when he built his business from scratch. I also tolerated his mother, Karen, who treated me like I never fit in when we attended family gatherings.
She never said it outright, but it was clear—she didn't think I was worth it.
I didn't come from a powerful family.
When I told Ben I wanted to run away from home instead of having a lavish wedding, she almost exploded. I still remember the night I mentioned it—we were lying in bed, legs intertwined, dreaming of our future. He seemed to like the idea.
But when did Karen find out we'd actually gone through with it? She made it clear to me that this was yet another reason I didn't fit in.
Just as an example.
Still, I thought that when I gave birth to our son, everything would change. My son was born with his father's hair, dark eyes, and the same little dimple in his chin. I thought maybe I'd finally feel like part of the family.
But instead, I was surprised.
One day after the birth, Karen visited the house. She hugged him, smiled, and cooed like the perfect grandmother. Then she disappeared. Weeks passed. No calls, no texts, no asking how we were doing or if I needed help.
I felt that old ache again, that quiet loneliness in your own home when you know someone is silently judging you.
One night, Ben came in from the hall, sat down next to me, and I immediately knew something was wrong.
He stared at the floor, then at his hands.
Finally, he started talking.
"Honey... my mom thinks we should get a DNA test... Actually, my dad thinks it's a good idea too."
I waited for him to smile. For him to say, "Can you believe they said that?" But he didn't.
Instead, he explained that Karen had finally called and asked him to do it, just in case. She and her husband had read about women who trick men into raising other men's children.
Then I asked very quietly, "Do you think we should?"
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Just to illustrate.
He rubbed his hands together and said, "A little clarity wouldn't hurt, would it? It would shut them up, and we'd have proof."
I didn't cry. I didn't scream. But something inside me snapped.
"Sure," I said, setting the book down on the coffee table. "Let's do it. But only on one condition."
He winked and looked up. "What?"
"Test your mom too," I said. "Do a DNA test between you and your dad."
"Why?" he asked, leaning back and frowning.
I stood up and started pacing the room, crossing my arms.
"If your mom can make accusations of infidelity without reason, I'd like to know if she's so certain of her past," I said. "Justice is just, right?"
Ben didn't say anything at first. But then he nodded slowly.
“Okay,” he said, frowning. “You’re right. I’ll do it. But let’s keep this between us first.”
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