A father’s doubt shattered his family — And the regret still haunts him
I stood in the nursery, paternity kit heavy in my hand. Emma and I had painted these walls, chosen every mobile star. Yet doubt gnawed—whispers from nowhere, poisoning trust. “Marcus?” Emma at the door, eyes soft. “You’ve been distant.” I handed her the kit. “Take this. I need to know if Noah’s mine.” Silence. Then:…
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