3
He called Noah “the child,” not by his name. That stung because I realized he didn’t believe Noah was his son.
I took a steadying breath. “Eric, we’ve been married four years and known each other for six. Don’t you know what kind of person I am? If you won’t believe me, at least believe in Noah.”
Eric replied, “Four years doesn’t mean anything. Besides, Noah has never looked like me. Everyone’s been saying it. What else am I supposed
to think?”
I was speechless, realizing I had no way of reasoning with these people.
“Fine. If none of you believe that Noah is your son, let’s go to the hospital and do another DNA test. Right now, I’ll get Noah.”
Just as I turned to head toward our room, Eric grabbed my arm. “Enough! You really want to drag this to the hospital? You aren’t ashamed of
this mess?”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “Why would I be ashamed? My conscience is clear. If you’re so sure of yourselves, let’s confirm it with another test.”
In the silence of the night, my words rang with a finality I hadn’t felt before. Eric looked ready to argue, but Mrs. Carter cut him off. “Why go to the hospital? We already have a report right here! Or is Jocelyn claiming her own husband and father–in–law are framing her? That’s rich–how long have you been setting us up, Jocelyn?”
Her accusation, so illogical and spiteful, was a shock. I’d never seen Mrs. Carter so cold and cruel.
Realizing that nothing I said would change a thing, I clenched my fists. After a long silence, Eric finally picked up the DNA report, barely glancing at it before tossing it at me. “It’s all here in black and white. Noah isn’t Dad’s blood relative. If he’s my son, he’d have to be. Anything to add? Or are you saying the hospital faked this?”
I bit my lip. “I don’t know what went wrong with this report, but there’s definitely something. If you believe me at all, let’s do another test with Noah, and we’ll settle this.”
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11:51 AM
