A second test confirmed what I had destroyed my family over. My son was mine. The realization came with crushing regret. I tried to apologize, to explain, to make amends, but Emma never responded. She had built a life without me, one she had every right to protect.
From a distance, I watched her raise our son with strength and care. I sought therapy, confronted my mistrust, and worked to become someone who would never repeat the same mistake. I saved letters, money, and truth for a future that might never include me.
I live now with the lesson I learned too late: trust is the foundation of love. Doubt, once chosen, can destroy everything. All I can do is grow, accept the consequences, and hope that someday my son will know the full truth and decide for himself who I am.
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