Marcus’s world falls apart the moment he sees his newborn. He is prepared to go since he believes his wife, Elena, has deceived him. Before he can, though, she divulges a secret that makes him doubt everything. Will love be sufficient to keep them together?
The day my wife revealed that we were expecting a child, I was overjoyed. We were eager to have our first child because we had been trying for a while. However, Elena dropped a bombshell one day as we were talking about the birth plan.
She said, “I don’t want you in the delivery room,” in a gentle yet forceful tone.
It seemed as though someone had punched me in the stomach. “What?” “Why not?”
Elena refused to look at me. “I simply must complete this task by myself. Please be understanding.”
I honestly didn’t understand. But I trusted Elena, and I loved her more than anything. I would respect it if this was what she needed. Nevertheless, that day, a small seed of discomfort germinated in my stomach.
That seed expanded as Elena’s due date drew near. The night before Elena’s scheduled induced delivery, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something significant was about to occur.
We went to the hospital the following morning. As they wheeled Elena away, I gave her a kiss at the maternity unit entrance.
The hours passed. I checked my phone every two minutes, drank too much awful coffee, and walked the waiting area. At last a physician appeared. My heart fell when I took one look at his face. There was a problem.
“Mr. Johnson?” he asked in a somber tone. “You’d better come with me.”
I had a thousand terrible ideas running through my head as I followed the doctor down the corridor. Was Elena all right? The infant? The doctor pushed the door wide as we arrived at the delivery room. Desperate to see Elena, I hurried in.
There she was, appearing lively yet tired. I felt a brief wave of relief before I realized the bundle was in her arms.
The baby, our baby, had blond hair, skin as pale as new snow, and eyes that were shockingly blue when it opened them.
“What the hell is this?” I heard myself say that in a strange, distant voice.
Elena’s eyes were filled with a mixture of dread and love as she glanced up at me. “Marcus, I can explain—”
I wasn’t listening, though. I was enveloped in a scarlet fog of betrayal and rage. “What can you explain? That you were unfaithful to me? That’s not my child?”
“No! Marcus, please—”
I interrupted her, raising my voice. “Elena, don’t tell me lies! I’m not a moron.” “That is not our child.”
Around us, nurses hustled to defuse the situation, but I was irrational. My heart felt like it was being torn from my chest. How could she harm me like this? To us?
“Marcus!” Elena’s acerbic tone pierced my anger. “Observe the infant. Take a peek.”
I paused at something in her tone. Elena pointed to the baby’s right ankle as she gently rotated it, and I looked down.
A tiny birthmark in the shape of a crescent was visible as day. It was the same one that I had had since birth and that other people in my family also had.
In a moment, the fight left me and was replaced by complete bewilderment. Silently, “I don’t understand,” I said.
Elena inhaled deeply. “I have something to share with you. I should have told you this years ago.”
Elena started to explain as the infant calmed down.
She had undertaken some genetic testing when we were engaged. According to the findings, she possessed a rare recessive gene that, independent of the parents’ appearance, may result in a child with light features and a pale complexion.
She uttered the words, “I didn’t tell you because the odds were so slim,” with shaking voice. “I also didn’t believe it would make a difference. The only thing that mattered was our affection for one another.”
