Sarah looked up from the sink, thinking she must have misheard through the sound of running water. She turned off the tap and turned to face her husband, John, who stood in the doorway with an unreadable expression.
“What did you say?” she asked.
“I want a DNA test for our son,” John repeated.
Sarah dried her hands slowly, trying to keep her composure. “Why would you say that?”
“Because I don’t believe he’s mine,” he said, firm and serious.
Sarah’s heart dropped. Their son, Tim, was four years old. John had always seemed involved in his life, not overly affectionate, but he was present. He played with him, brought him gifts, even stayed home with him when Sarah had errands to run. Never once had he questioned being Tim’s father—until now.
They had been married six years. Tim had been a planned child, conceived a year into their marriage. That year had been filled with love, or so Sarah had thought. She had never been unfaithful. Where was this coming from?
“Can you at least tell me what brought this on?” she asked.
John gave her a cynical look. “See? That’s a guilty response. If you had nothing to hide, you wouldn’t be so nervous.”
The accusation cut deep. Their relationship might not have been passionate in the way people described soulmates, but it had always been based on respect and consistency. They functioned well together, loved each other in their way. But now, without warning, he was treating her like a stranger.
“I’m not trying to talk you out of anything,” she said, her voice steady. “I just want to understand. Why now?”
“Look at him!” John said. “I’m blond. Everyone in my family is blond. And he’s got dark hair and brown eyes.”
“So do I,” Sarah pointed out. “And you’ve said yourself he looks just like my dad.”
“Well, I don’t see it anymore,” John muttered. “But he does remind me of your coworker.”
“Which one?” she asked, her tone turning dry.
“Mark,” he said with disdain.
Sarah let out a short laugh. Mark had worked with her at the furniture store before she got pregnant. He was kind, yes, and had dark hair—but Tim resembled him about as much as he resembled the delivery guy. This was absurd.
“You know I’ve never cheated on you,” she said, still trying to stay calm.
“My mother and sister told me you’d say that. I’m getting the test either way.”
That was all Sarah needed to hear. She understood now. It wasn’t really John’s doubt speaking—it was his family’s.
John’s mother had never liked her. At first, she played the role of a welcoming mother-in-law—always polite, praising Sarah’s cooking, telling her how lucky John was. But Sarah later learned that those same lips had insulted her behind her back. She’d called her stupid, a terrible cook, even ugly. Sarah had confronted her once, calmly asking which version of her she really believed in, and that had been the turning point. After that, Sarah kept her distance. John would visit with Tim, but Sarah no longer played along.
His sister was no better—someone who thrived on gossip and constantly blamed others for her own misfortunes. Her marriage had collapsed after she cheated. She got fired for stealing. Her power got shut off after months of unpaid bills. And yet she always managed to make herself the victim. Sarah had tried, in the beginning, to stay cordial. But eventually, she couldn’t pretend anymore.
Clearly, they had been working on John for a while, planting doubt, trying to turn him against her.
Sarah took a seat and motioned for John to sit too.
“Let’s be honest,” she said. “You know your family doesn’t like me. And now, they’ve managed to convince you that Tim isn’t yours. You’re letting their voices break apart our family.”
“If you have nothing to hide, then a DNA test should be no big deal,” John replied flatly.
“Fine,” Sarah said. “But on one condition.”
“What condition?”
“When the test proves that Tim is yours—and it will—you move out. Go live with your mother. And then we get divorced.”
“Divorce?” he repeated, stunned. “Seriously? Just because I asked for a test?”
“No, not just because of the test,” she said. “Because you let your mother and sister manipulate you. Because you didn’t trust me. Because you’ve let doubt cloud everything we’ve built, and you’ve ignored your own child over a rumor.”
John hesitated, but ultimately doubled down. “We’re doing the test. That’s final.”
Sarah nodded. “Alright.”
They scheduled the DNA test the next day. Samples were taken from John and Tim. The waiting period felt longer than it actually was. Sarah noticed how John barely interacted with Tim during that week. The distance was painful.
She didn’t fear the results. She was just waiting for proof that would give her the final push she needed.
The results came in an email. Sarah called John over, opened the email, and handed the phone to him without reading it herself.
John studied the screen, then smiled. “He’s mine. That’s a relief. Let’s put this behind us and celebrate.”
“We can celebrate something else,” Sarah said. “The end of this marriage.”
“What? Sarah, come on. I had doubts, but now they’re gone. You can’t hold this against me. You know how many men raise children that aren’t theirs.”
“I’m not those men’s wife,” she replied. “I’m your wife. And I won’t live with someone who throws trust away over gossip. Who turned cold toward his own son without reason. Who only believes what he’s told by people who’ve never liked me.”
John tried to backtrack in the days that followed. He apologized, said he’d stop listening to his family, promised it would never happen again.
But Sarah was done. It might seem small to others, but to her, it revealed everything she needed to know about the man she had married.
She felt sorry for whoever came next. His next partner would have to navigate the same toxic family dynamics. Maybe he’d learn from this. Maybe not. Most people don’t change.
And Sarah? She was free.