I gave birth 5 weeks ago to my daughter Sarah with blonde hair and blue eyes, while my husband and I have brown hair and brown eyes.

My husband, Alex, freaked out at this, demanded a paternity test, and went to stay with his parents for weeks.

My MIL Mrs. Johnson told me that if the test showed that the baby wasn’t her son’s, she would do anything so that I was “taken to the cleaners” during the divorce.

Yesterday, we received the results. My husband showed up at our door, looking disheveled and remorseful. I let him in, and we sat down in the same place we had when we’d read the test results.

He looked at Sarah, who was sleeping peacefully in my arms, and his eyes softened.

“Jenn,” he began, his voice barely above a whisper, “I’m so sorry. I let my insecurities ruin everything.”

My face hard, “Alex, you didn’t just doubt me; you humiliated me. You left me alone, you accused me of che:ating, and you let your mother threaten me. I don’t know if things can ever go back to the way they were.”
He nodded, “I understand that. And I’ll do whatever it takes to make it right. I don’t expect you to forgive me right away, but please, give me a chance to prove myself again. For Sarah’s sake, for us.”

I saw the regret in his eyes. Part of me wanted to shut the door on him forever, to shield myself from any future hurt. But another part, the part that still remembered the love we’d built over two years, wanted to give him a chance to make amends.

I let my anger and hurt slip away, if only for a moment.

“I don’t know how to trust you right now, Alex. But for Sarah’s sake, I’ll try,” I said finally.

He reached for my hand, “Thank you, Jenn. I’ll do whatever it takes to earn back your trust. I love you both more than anything.”

But as the days went by, one day I started processing the fact that my husband seemed disappointed that I hadn’t che:a:ted on him.