Charlotte waited eagerly for her husband to return from work. She had fried up his favourite potato pancakes for dinner. When the door finally creaked open, she greeted him in the kitchen with a hopeful smile:
“Hello, love. Fancy some supper?”
William sat in silence, not touching his plate. Charlotte’s smile faltered.
“Something wrong? You’re not yourself…”
The quiet stretched unbearably before he finally spoke. “Need a test.”
“What test, Will? What are you on about?”
His answer struck like lightning—a paternity test. Charlotte’s breath seized. This man, who had shared her joys and sorrows for years, now doubted her? Demanded proof of her loyalty?
“You’re serious?”
“What’s the fuss? If you’ve got nothing to hide, then why panic?”
The words cut deeper than any blade. She remembered how it all began—two teenagers smitten, married within a year. Raised strictly by her parents, she’d been taught to wait until marriage. William had found it charming, his own family a jumble of broken relationships and cynicism. His mother and brother, hardened by past heartaches, had warned him. But he hadn’t listened. He loved her.
When Charlotte fell pregnant, William was over the moon. But complications forced her to bed rest, barely leaving the house. Their daughter, Emily, was born strong and healthy. William hadn’t left her cot—
“Your hair,” he’d whispered. “But the eyes… definitely mine!”
Then his mother arrived, coldly eyeing the newborn before sneering, “She’s not one of ours.” Then she left without a touch.
Charlotte had brushed it off. Now she understood—the seed had been planted that day. Soon, everything soured. William grew distant, avoiding Emily, always “busy.”
When Charlotte finally confronted him, he muttered about work—until weeks later, he spat the truth.
“Look at Emily. She doesn’t look like either of us. You *sure* she’s mine?”
Her heart shattered. “I’ve *never* betrayed you!”
“Prove it, then. Unless you’re hiding something.”
Their fight erupted like a storm. William slammed the door, leaving Charlotte trembling as she dialed her mother.
“Mum, please… I can’t stay here.”
Within the hour, her parents arrived. Silent, they helped pack her things. Later, as Emily slept, her father whispered, “Never trusted that lot. Knew it.”
Her mother agreed. “A husband demanding a test isn’t family. He’s a threat. We’re with you, love.”
Charlotte’s decision was made. If William didn’t trust her, he didn’t deserve them. Later, he accused her: “Running proves you’re guilty!”
She fought back—filing for removal of his parental rights. He wanted proof? He’d get it. And his shameful behaviour would be on record too.
His mother crowed, “Told you!” Her triumph was short-lived. The test confirmed William was the father. She insisted it was rigged. The court knew better.
Charlotte won. William was stripped of his rights.
“Got what you wanted? Now you can please your mum. No granddaughter. No wife. I’m *done* with your family. No wonder you’re alone—just like your brother. Birds of a feather.”
William slumped on a bench outside the courthouse, face buried in his hands. Only now did he see what he’d lost—how *he’d* destroyed it all. His family. His love. His daughter.
But it was too late. Far too late.