Marcus’ world is shattered the first time he sees his newborn baby. He is ready to leave his wife Elena since he believes she has betrayed him. But before he can, she discloses a truth that makes him question everything. Is love enough to keep them together?

“I don’t want you in the delivery room,” she said.

Elena wouldn’t meet my eyes. “I just… I need to do this part on my own. Please understand.”

I didn’t really comprehend. But I loved Elena more than anything, and I trusted her.

The next morning, we went to the hospital. Hours passed by. I roamed the waiting area, drank too much awful coffee, and looked at my phone every two minutes. Eventually, a doctor emerged. Something wasn’t right.

“Mr. Johnson?” he said, his voice grave. “You’d better come with me.”

Was Elena okay? The baby? We reached the delivery room, and the doctor pushed open the door. I rushed in, desperate to see Elena.

She was there, looking exhausted but alive.

The infant, our kid, had skin as pale as fresh snow, wisps of blonde hair, and shockingly blue eyes.

“What the hell is this?”

“Marcus, I can explain—”

I cut her off, my voice rising. “Don’t lie to me, Elena! I’m not an idiot. That is not our baby!”

The fight drained out of me in an instant, replaced by utter confusion. “I don’t understand,” I whispered.

Elena took a deep breath. “There’s something I need to tell you. Something I should have told you years ago.”

Elena started explaining as soon as the baby stopped crying.

During our engagement, she had some genetic tests. The results revealed that she possessed a rare recessive gene that might lead a child to have pale skin and light features, independent of the parents’ appearance.

“I didn’t tell you because the odds were so slim,” she said, her voice trembling. “And I didn’t think it would matter. We loved each other, and that was all that counted.”

I sank into a chair, my head spinning. “But how…?”

“You must carry the gene too,” Elena explained.

“Both parents can carry it without knowing, and then…” She gestured to our baby.

Our tiny girl was now sleeping soundly, oblivious to the chaos surrounding her.

My family had been eager to meet the newest member. But when they saw our pale-skinned, blonde-haired baby of joy, all hell broke out.

“What kind of joke is this?” my mother, Denise, demanded, her eyes narrowing as she looked from the baby to Elena.

I stepped in front of my wife, shielding her from the accusatory glares. “It’s not a joke, Mom. This is your grandchild.”

My sister Tanya scoffed. “Come on, Marcus. You can’t seriously expect us to believe that.”

“It’s true,” I insisted, trying to keep my voice calm. “Elena and I both carry a rare gene. The doctor explained everything.”