31 March
I smiled at my motherinlaw, All right, lets do a DNA test, I said. And you should have your husband check his own paternity too
Fine, fine, she replied, eyes narrowing as if shed just heard a scandal.
A few weeks later, after wed moved out of the maternity flat, Olivia my motherinlaw suddenly blurted, Something about Arthur just doesnt look like us. She said it the moment we crossed the threshold of the new house.
My heart froze, my hands clutching the grocery bags. Had she decided this was the moment to bring it up?
Victor, Olivias husband, gently intervened. Olivia, thats enough, he said, ushering her into the spare room and casting me a sympathetic glance. I was left alone with my son, Arthur. Doesnt look like us? I whispered, studying his light hair, blue eyes, tiny button noseso much like my own grandfather as a boy. Id have to beg my mother for old photographs to compare.
A few days later my mothers voice drifted up onto the balcony. She was on the phone, clearly with my father.
Your grandsons been born, and you havent even turned up! she snapped, slamming the receiver down. Seeing me, she let out a sigh. Sorry, Kate, Ive ruined your day. I was hoping your dad would show up, but even a grandson cant pull him away from his pint.
Its not your fault, Mum, I said, pulling her into a hug.
That evening, the family gathered around the festive table. Olivia tried hard to keep her displeasure under wraps, while Victor and Max, my husband, tried to lighten the mood. When the guests finally left, Max wrapped his arms around me. Thank you for giving us our son, he murmured.
Time rushed on: first steps, first words, sleepless nights. We bought a terraced house in a leafy suburb of Manchester, swapped the old hatchback for a sensible SE sedan, and Arthur started at the local nursery.
Im terrified of the school thing, I confessed to Max one night, the parent meetings, the chats
Itll be fine, he reassured, holding me close.
Our peace was shattered again by Olivia. At the weekend cottage she behaved oddly, avoiding Arthur, staring at him with a cold mistrust.
Look at him, she hissed while we were doing the dishes. Red hair, freckles Are you sure hes Maxs child?
What about you, Victor? I snapped back, Are you really the father of this boy?
She went stonecold. How dare you! she shrieked.
I stormed out, grabbed my things, and left the cottage with Arthur, heading straight home.
The next day we sent off the DNA sample. The result was exactly what we expectedArthur was indeed Maxs son. I slipped the report into my bag, saying nothing to anyone.
Olivia, however, would not be quiet. At Victors birthday she leaned over and muttered, Your grandson is a carbon copy of his greatgrandmother! And ours she gave Arthur a disdainful glance.
I pulled the test out of my bag and placed it on the table. Read this, I said softly. Your suspicions were wrong. Perhaps now youll focus on the skeletons in your own closet.
Her face paled.
A few days later Max came home, broken. He sank onto the floor, his hands pressed to his temples. Kate Victor and I did a test. It turns out he isnt my blood, he whispered.
I wrapped him, helpless for words.
Later Victor stopped by. Im filing for divorce from Olivia, he announced firmly. But Max, youll always be my son. Blood isnt everything.
Max burst into tears and embraced him.
Our little family survived the blow. Olivia was left alone, while Max, Arthur, and I grew unexpectedly stronger. The irony was palpable: had she not let her anger run wild, the truth might have stayed hidden forever.
Six months have passed since Victors divorce. Life has settled into a new rhythm: Max has slowly let go of his mothers betrayal, Arthur spends cheerful weekends with his grandfather and father, and I no longer jump at every ringtone.
One evening, as I was washing the dishes, an unfamiliar number rang.
Is this Kate? a hoarse voice asked, unsure. Its a former classmate.
The spoon clattered into the sink. Sophie? I hadnt seen her in ten years, not since we both moved to the Midlands.
We need to meet. Its important, he said.
What about? I asked.
Its about your motherinlaw, he replied, eyes darting.
We met in a tiny café with an open roof. Olivia was looking for me, he said, swirling his mineral water. She claimed Arthur was my son because hes as redhaired as I am, and even offered money.
What?! I blurted. She really thought Id given birth to your child?
Sophie shook his head. She was convinced something had happened between us She was delusional.
I refused to submit to any tests, he said quietly. I told her I couldnt help the child, and even if I still cared for you, I wouldnt destroy your family.
My hands trembled. It wasnt just suspicion; she had woven a whole poisonous narrative to humiliate me.
I told Max everything when I got home. He went pale. So she lied not only to Victor She wanted to wreck our family too, he muttered.
The following day Victor burst in, slamming the door. Olivia has taken it to court! Shes demanding half the cottage!
On what grounds? Max shouted. She says she has no income, only a small pension, and wants to sell the place.
That night Olivia called, her voice thin with hatred. Happy, are you? she sneered. You destroyed a family, now you finish it off. Its you, you wretched girl!
You lied to my husband! You abandoned the grandson! I shouted back.
Arthur will never be my grandson, she spat before hanging up.
A week later a letter arrived from her solicitor, demanding that Victor be barred from seeing Arthur because he was not a blood relative.
Its revenge, Max whispered, holding the paper. Shes lost her mind.
Victor just smiled. Let her try.
The judge dismissed all of Olivias claims and warned her of the consequences of defamation.
On the day the final verdict was read, Victor produced an old photograph: a young Max perched on his shoulders, both beaming.
This is what family looks like, he said. It isnt about blood or surnames. Its about this.
Arthur suddenly darted over and hugged his grandfather tightly. Youre the best, Granddad!
Olivia was left completely alone.
A year later we happened to see her in the park, sitting on a bench, eyes vacant. Arthur, never holding grudges, waved at her. She turned away.
Do you feel sorry for her? Max asked.
No, I answered honestly. Its a pity for the people shes hurt.
We walked on, toward Victor, who was pushing Arthur on the swing, back to the family we always chose, not the one she tried to dictate.
