It wasn’t infidelity. It wasn’t a secret from my past. It was a massive medical scandal — where, instead of your husband’s genetic material, another man’s was used.

My husband covered his face with his hands.

“Fifteen years… fifteen years I thought they were my children…”

And I sat there staring at the papers, realizing our life had just split into a “before” and “after.”

Now we had to decide whether this truth would destroy our family — or whether we could survive even this.