THE PATERNITY TEST

"I am sorry,” she said as she sniffed amidst tears.

I could not believe what I heard. My wedding is in two weeks, and my fiancee is standing in front of me with the confession that can make me walk away right now.

I can’t. I had been through so many relationships, and Victoria was the best thing that happened to me in a long time. Why did she do this? I loved her so much. Why would she betray me? She betrayed me for a few minutes of pleasure with her ex.

It would have been bearable if the story had ended with sex between them. The goodbye sex because she was getting married and would be restricted to sex with her husband for the rest of her life, or maybe her marriage.

She was three weeks pregnant.

I was excited.

I wasn't sure it was mine, she said it was mine.

“Victoria, why would you even do that? I mean, am I not enough for you?” I asked, I was trying to hold myself together, but the tears began to roll down my cheeks.

She was crying.

“I understand if you want to call off the wedding,” she responded as a tear slid down her cheeks.

“No, I am not calling off the wedding, it’s in two weeks. I just want to know what got into you to make you get into his bed and have sex?” I asked.

I could punch her right now.

She looked so fragile, standing right in front of me begging for her relationship.

I mean, why wouldn't she run back for last minute sex with him? If she had her way, she would be married to him instead of me. He came from a family of social elites. Victoria didn't fit in. They match made him with someone of their own social standing and threw Victoria out like dirty water in a dish. She was hurt.

Then she met me.

I was the scapegoat for her pain. It took a lot for her to love me. She kept making excuses why she couldn't love, because she was scared of getting dumped. It was a frustrating few months, but with time she came to love and trust me.

I thought we were in a good place, and then this?

We got married two weeks later, as planned.

She was such a beautiful bride. I almost choked on my tears while we exchanged our vows. A part of me was still hurt by her betrayal. The part of the wedding ceremony where whoever objected needed to speak or hold their peace was the longest one minute of my life. We had to wait on anyone crawling out of the closet to object to do so. Thankfully, no one did.

Two years later, our daughter June turned two. She was a feisty little girl with beautiful brown eyes and hair pulled into two ponytails everyday for school. She was two going on twenty. She was the boss of the house, giving myself and her mother a run for our money. We had a dcotor’s appointment and showed up at the General Hospital.

We ran into Victoria’s ex, the one she slept with before the wedding. He was cordial. Victoria seemed uncomfortable. I gave him a firm handshake and made eye contact, but he kept staring at our daughter, June.

“Beautiful girl,” he said, not taking his eyes off her.

June looked at him and blinked. She pulled out her sunglasses from her little red bag, the one she would not let go off.

“Thanks,” Victoria replied and pulled June closer to her.

“You are welcome,” he relied with a smirk. “She could be mine, you know,” he continued.

“Excuse me,” I retorted before Victoria could say anything.

“I said she could be mine, let me guess, she is about two years old, and the timing is about right. She has my facial features, especially her forehead,” he responded.

If we were not in public, I would have punched him. It was the audacity to claim June. He was disrespectful.

“She is not yours,” Victoria replied.

“How are you sure? There was me and there was him,” her ex replied with a smile.

I couldn't blame him. Victoria’s promiscuity put us in this situation to receive insults from her ex.

“Enough,” I said in a loud voice.

A few heads in the crowd turned. I ignored them.

“So you think June could be yours?” I asked icily, looking into his eyes.

“June is not his,” Victoria said firmly.

“Be quiet,” I told her angrily.

If she was faithful, I would not be reeling from insults from her ex. This was a challenge.

“I have no doubt, she is mine,” he replied.

“Really?”

“Yes, we can take a DNA test if you want,” he suggested.

If looks could kill, he would have dropped dead by now.

“Is that right?” I asked.

“Sure,” he replied confidently.

For the first time, I realized that June may not be my child. Experiencing doubt like this as a married man was disheartening.

I agreed to take a DNA test.

It’s been three months.

I moved out of the house. Running into Victoria’s ex ruined my marriage. It was not the same after that.

We both took the DNA test to confirm if I was June’s dad or if he was. It was apparent Victoria didn't use protection while sleeping with him.

I was foolish to continue ahead with the wedding. This was not supposed to be a Jospeh and Mary story, because Mary was a virgin, but Victoria was a harlot.

The tests came back. He was not June's father.

Neither was I.

Check out the complete book:The Paternity Test and Other Stories