I Took a DNA Test and Instantly Regretted It I Had to Marry My Girlfriend After Learning She Was Pregnant. After the Wedding, We Moved In with My Parents Because We Couldn’t Afford Our Own Place. Time Passed and I Became the Proud Dad of a Wonderful Little Boy. Soon, We Decided to Take Out a Mortgage and Start Our Own Home. Some Time Later, My Wife Announced She Was Expecting Again—and That’s How Princess Anna Joined Our Family. The Kids Grew Up Fast. With Every Year, I Noticed More and More That They Didn’t Look Anything Like Me—or My Wife, for That Matter! Two Redheads Covered in Freckles—Where Did That Come From in Our Family? Eventually, I Started Thinking About a Paternity Test. Maybe It Wasn’t a Wise Move, But I Needed to Know for Sure That I Was Raising My Own Children. So, I Did It. I Had to Wait Two Weeks for Results. As Soon as the Lab Called, I Rushed Over—Thank God, I Really Was Their Dad. I Went Home and Stashed the Papers So My Wife Wouldn’t Find Them. But Why Didn’t I Just Throw Them Away? I Paid a Heavy Price for That Mistake! A Few Days Later, My Wife Threw the Documents in My Face. She Made Such a Scene, the Whole House Seemed to Shake. I Get Why She Was Upset, but Things Could Have Been Resolved Calmly. She Never Forgave Me, and Now I’m Alone. It’s Been Five Years Since, and My Wife Still Won’t Let Me See the Kids. So, It Turns Out That Simple Curiosity Ended Up Costing Me the Most Precious Thing I Had—My Family. I Just Hope That, One Day, My Wife Will Be Able to Forgive Me…

Author Emily TaylorReading 3 minViews 2

I took a DNA test and came to regret it

It feels like a lifetime ago, back when I was still just a young lad making sense of the world. I married because my sweetheart told me she was expecting. Not long after the wedding, I brought my new wife to live with my parents in our old house in Yorkshire, for we hadn’t the means to live on our own just yet. Those were restless, crowded years, but soon enough, we became a family. I was blessed with a fine boy, and in time, we scraped together enough to get a mortgage and settle into a modest terraced house of our own.

Some years went by, and then my wife announced she was expecting again. Thats how our little princess, Emily, came into our lives. Both children grew as quick as wildflowers. Yet, as the years slipped away, I couldnt help but notice how neither of them bore any resemblance to me. Even their tempers and ways were a world apart from both their mothers and mine. To add to it, they both had flaming red hair and frecklestraits that had never shown up before in our family.

The thought plagued me, so at last I gave in to a moments weakness and decided to do a paternity test. It was not my proudest decision, but I felt I had no other choice. I simply needed reassurance in my heart.

So, I went through with it, and the wait for the results was agonisingtwo long weeks. The day the call came, I rushed straight to the lab in Leeds. Thank heavens, the papers confirmed what I truly hoped deep downI was their father. Relieved, I went home and hid the documents away, out of sight. Looking back, I don’t know why I didn’t just tear them up there and then. That single moment of carelessness cost me more than I could ever have imagined.

It wasnt long before my wife found the hidden papers. She hurled them at me, weeping with fury. The row that followed shook the very rafters of our homeshe felt so betrayed, so wounded. I understand her pain now, though at the time it seemed impossible to bridge the ever-growing gulf between us. Forgiveness never came. Five years have drifted by, and she still will not allow me to see the children.

In my foolish curiosity, I lost what I cherished mostmy family. I spend each day hoping, quietly and faithfully, that one day she will find it within her to forgive me.

Don’t Leave, Mum: A Family Story There’s an old saying: people aren’t like nuts—you can’t crack them right away. But Tamara Watson was sure that was nonsense. She prided herself on reading people perfectly! Her daughter, Millie, had married just a year ago. Tamara had dreamed of her daughter finding the right man, starting a family, and welcoming grandchildren. She imagined herself as the proud matriarch of their sprawling, happy brood, just as she had always been. Russell seemed clever and certainly wasn’t short of money—and he was obviously a bit smug about it. But the newlyweds insisted on living independently, as Russ had his own flat, and it seemed they didn’t need Tamara’s advice about anything! She could see he was clearly a bad influence on Millie! This arrangement didn’t fit with Tamara’s plans at all. Russell got right under her skin. “Mum, you just don’t understand—Russell grew up in care. He’s worked for everything, he’s strong and kind,” Millie would protest. But Tamara would just purse her lips and find new faults with Russell. He was not at all the person he pretended to be in front of her daughter! And it was her motherly duty to open Millie’s eyes to this vacant man before it was too late! No degree, difficult to talk to, uninterested in anything! At weekends, he just slumped in front of the telly, claiming he needed to “rest!” And her daughter wanted to spend her life with someone like that? No way! She was sure Millie would thank her in the end. And what about the children, her future grandchildren—what kind of father would teach them anything worthwhile?! All in all, Tamara was bitterly disappointed. Russell, sensing his mother-in-law’s mood, started avoiding the family. They spoke less and less, and Tamara eventually refused to step foot in their flat. Millie’s dad, ever the gentle soul, kept neutral, knowing what his wife could be like. One night, Millie rang Tamara sounding frantic: “Mum, I didn’t tell you, but I’m away for work for two days. Russell caught a chill on site, came home early, and isn’t answering my calls.” “Milly, why are you telling me this?” Tamara exploded. “You two are so independent now, don’t seem to care about us! If something’s wrong with me, nobody notices! And now you wake me up at night to say your husband’s ill? Are you alright in the head?” “Mum, please…” Millie’s voice trembled with worry, “It just hurt that you think Russell’s no good, when he’s not like that at all. How could you think I’d marry someone bad? Don’t you trust me?” Tamara was silent. “Mum, please, you’ve got our spare key. Can you go and check on him? I’m really worried—something’s wrong with Russ. Please, Mum!” “Alright, but only for you,” Tamara said, waking her husband. When they arrived, no one answered the bell, so Tamara let herself in. “It’s probably nothing—maybe he’s not home?” her husband suggested, but Tamara’s anxiety grew. She entered the living room—and froze. Russell was sprawled on the sofa, burning with fever. The paramedic who arrived nodded sympathetically: “Looks like your son’s got complications from a cold—kept working through it, I bet?” “He works hard,” Tamara nodded. “He’ll be okay. Keep an eye on him, ring if anything changes.” Russell slept, and Tamara found herself sitting at his bedside all night—the son-in-law she’d resented for so long. He looked younger, softer, asleep—a far cry from his usual self. “Mum—don’t go, Mum,” Russell murmured in his sleep, gripping her hand. Tamara was stunned. But she didn’t pull away. She sat there beside him until dawn. At sunrise, Millie rang again: “Mum, sorry to put you through this—I’ll be home soon, you don’t need to come around, I think it’ll all work out.” “It will, darling, it already has,” Tamara said gently. “We’re here, and everything’s alright.” ***** When Millie’s first child was born, Tamara was the first to offer her help. Russell kissed her hand in gratitude: “See, Millie? You said your mum wouldn’t want to help us.” Tamara, proudly cradling baby Timothy, paraded around the flat, whispering to the newborn: “Little Tim, you’re a lucky lad! You’ve got the best mum, dad, and grandparents! What a life you’ll have!” Perhaps the old saying is true: people aren’t like nuts—you can’t crack them straight away. It’s only love that helps you truly understand each other.

She Was Never Truly Alone: An Ordinary Story It was a late winter morning as daylight crept in. Outside, council workers scraped snow from the close with their sturdy shovels. The heavy front door banged shut again and again, ushering in and out the flood of neighbours hurrying off to work. On the sixth-floor windowsill, Felix the cat observed it all with quiet curiosity. In his previous life, Felix had been a city banker, concerned only with money and numbers—never pausing to consider what else life might hold. But now, he understood that kindness, companionship, and a warm roof overhead far outweighed worldly wealth. Felix glanced back. There, on the old sagging sofa, slept Nan Val, his saviour and best friend. He slinked down from the window and curled up at her pillow, soft fur pressed gently against her silvered head. Felix knew Nan Val’s head ached each morning, and he did what he could to help. “Felix, you’re quite the little healer!” she murmured as she awoke to his gentle warmth. “That pain’s gone, you clever boy—how do you do it?” Felix gave his paw a nonchalant shake as if to say, “It’s nothing—I could do much more if you asked!” But then a low, jealous grumble echoed from the hallway: it was Gav, the terrier. Gav had been Nan Val’s loyal companion for many years. At the first sound of unfamiliar footsteps, he always barked with gusto, protecting his home and the woman he loved. No doubt he fancied himself the true master of the flat. “What was he in a past life?” mused Felix. “A police constable, maybe—or a foreman. Loud and bossy, but perhaps that’s just what a guard dog should be!” “My darlings, what would I do without you?” Nan Val sighed fondly, shuffling to her feet. “Now, time for breakfast—then off for a little walk.” “And if the pension comes in this week, I’ll buy us a chicken!” At the word “chicken,” a wave of excitement swept the room. Felix kneeded the sofa with his paws, purring so loudly it made Nan Val chuckle. He nuzzled her thin arthritic hand with his broad furry head. “Oh, you wise old boy—you understand every word, don’t you?” she sighed in delight. Gav barked in agreement and bumped his cold nose against her knee. “They’re such loving souls,” Nan Val thought, smiling. “Home is warmer and the heart less lonely with them near.” “When I’m gone, who knows what comes next? Everyone’s got an opinion, but who can say for sure? If I had my choice, I’d come back as a cat—so long as a kind person would take me in. As a dog, I don’t think I’d manage—all that barking. I’m too soft-spoken for that. But a cat? I’d make a gentle, affectionate one, I’m sure. Just let me land with good people.” “Goodness gracious, what strange ideas!” she scolded herself. “That’s what old age does to your mind.” She didn’t notice Felix’s sly whiskered smile as he glanced at Gav, silently thinking: “See—she wants to be a cat, not a dog.” After all, Felix had learned to read minds these days—a rather nice bonus, really. And that’s how things stood, in their little flat above the snowy streets of England.