The girl got pregnant at 17, and the boy disappeared. The parents threatened to send the child to an orphanage. But life had its own plans.

Several years ago, I met my wife. I was 27, and she was 24. I had a large group of friends, and we loved going out together to parties, staying out until the early morning hours. There was a period when we almost went clubbing every night. And one of those nights, while my friends and I were at a disco,

I saw. She stood out from the crowd, like a light in the darkness, attracting everyone’s attention, especially the guys. Beautiful, with long hair, a gentle smile, and sky-blue eyes. I fell in love with her at first sight. It took me half a year to win her over. We dated for a year, and then we got married. Soon after, we had a wonderful baby boy. I thanked my wife a thousand times for making me so happy.

I cherished her, did everything to share all the challenges of motherhood and postpartum depression with her. When I first held our son in my arms, I felt unique emotions. That’s when I realized he was the most important person in my life. I tried to help my wife with household chores despite my demanding job, which often took up a lot of my time. Occasionally, I had to go on business trips, leaving them alone. My wife had a peculiar habit: she talked in her sleep. She didn’t just mumble single words; she uttered complete sentences. It was through this that I learned the truth. That night, I heard her say, “, I’ve always loved you. Your husband won’t find out anything; don’t worry.”

These words aroused my suspicion that I wasn’t my son’s biological father. I didn’t know anyone named, which meant my wife was hiding something from me. There was something fishy going on. I didn’t confront my wife because I had no evidence. However, the next day, I took a paternity test. While waiting for the results, I could barely contain my emotions. My wife noticed that something was wrong with me, but I blamed it on work-related stress.
The test results were negative. I wasn’t my son’s biological father. For six years, I had been raising someone else’s child. Now I was in a dilemma. On one hand, I couldn’t stay silent and forgive the betrayal. On the other hand, I couldn’t imagine my life without my son; he was my whole world. And I loved my wife deeply too.

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