What If She’s Not Really My Daughter? The DNA Test That Shattered a Family—Nikita’s Ordeal with Doubt, Scandal, and the Consequences of Distrust

What if shes not really my daughter? I need a DNA test.

Lately, I cant shake these uneasy thoughts. Ill sit there, mug of tea cooling beside me, and watch my wife, Emily, as she coos over our newborn baby girl. She looks so at peace, but I cant help the churn of doubt inside me. Silly, maybe, but the thought keeps circling: what if our daughter isnt mine?

Last year, I was away for work in Manchester for an entire month. Just a few weeks after my return, Emily burst into the kitchen, beaming, excited to share wonderful newsshe was pregnant. At first, I was truly thrilled. But then, a few weeks later, Emilys sister, Rachel, came round for Sunday roast and told us over pudding about having a DNA test done for her own little boy. She reckoned it was the only way to put her partners mind at ease.

Em, why dont we do a test as well? Just for peace of mind, I suggested, thinking it was a simple enough idea.

Emilys reaction was immediate, and it swept through the room like a storm. She started yelling, tossing a cushion at me, her voice echoing down the hallway as neighbours banged on the wall in protest.

What on Earths the matter? I tried, my suspicions only growing with her outburst. If shed nothing to hide, why fly off the handle? Its not that terrible. I only want to be sure, thats it.

How could you even think such a thing? she cried, hurling another pillow my way. Have I ever given you any reason to doubt me?

I was gone for a month, I said bitterly. How do I know what happened here when I was away? We just do the test, find out, and never bring it up again. We could even ask Rachel for her clinics address.

Over my dead body! Emily snapped, slamming the door behind her as she stormed into the nursery.

***************************************************

Later that week, I sat in the kitchen with Mum, pouring out my worries over her best china.

Im not asking for anything outlandish, I muttered, picking at a biscuit. Whys she so upset?

Shes got a guilty conscience, love. Mum handed me a steaming mug of coffee and gave me the familiar, knowing look. Id wager shes hiding something, maybe even that the baby isnt yours. She paused, hesitating. Listen let me tell you something. When you were away, there was this one time

What? I jumped, eager for any piece of the puzzle.

I didnt want to get involved, she replied, staring at her lap. I dropped by to chat about your fathers sixtieth. Emily took ages to answer, even though I could tell she was in. When she finally opened up, she was all flustered, and there were mens shoes in the hallway. Odd, really.

What did she say? I tried not to sound desperate, but the words spilled out.

She said a pipe had burst, Mum rolled her eyes. As if that explained anything.

And you never told me?

I never actually went in, so I had no proof. Thought it best not to make things worse between you.

You shouldnt have kept quiet! I nearly knocked over my cup in my frustration. What am I supposed to do now?

Make her do the test, Mum answered coolly, hiding a sly smile. Shes never warmed to Emily. Or take her hair and do it yourself. You have every right.

************************************************

Some weeks later, the results arrived. I tossed aside the envelope, just as Emily came through with a load of nappies.

All sorted, I said, barely looking at her. Mias my daughter. Like I promised, Ill never bring it up again.

Emily stared at the open letter in my hand, eyes narrowed. Hang on, did you do that bloody test behind my back?

I shrugged, unfazed. Took the baby with me on a walk. Quick swab, thats allshes my little girl, so it wasnt a problem.

It is a problem, Emily said quietly. And its a shame you cant see that.

Next morning, I left for work as usual. But when I returned that evening, the flat was emptyno sign of Emily or Mia. Her clothes were gone, cot missing, nothing left but a single note on the coffee table.

Your mistrust has destroyed everything between us. I refuse to stay with someone who betrays me. Im filing for divorce. I want nothing from youno flat, no support. I just want you out of our lives.

I was lividhow dare she leave, taking my daughter with her? I dialled her number over and over.

A man answeredsilent, stoicas I ranted and raved. Dont ring here again, he said, hanging up.

Knew it! I spat, pacing the flat. Off to another bloke before shes even settled somewhere else. Typical!

It never occurred to me that Emily mightve gone to her parents, and the man answering couldve been her brother, protecting her from my anger. My mind was made up.

The divorce was swift, settled by mutual consent. Little Mia stayed with Emily, and I never saw my daughter again.

Rate article
What If She’s Not Really My Daughter? The DNA Test That Shattered a Family—Nikita’s Ordeal with Doubt, Scandal, and the Consequences of Distrust