Peter and I had been married for three years, expecting our second child, and I thought I knew everything about him—until I overheard a conversation between his mother and sister that shattered my world. They hinted at a secret Peter had kept from me, questioning the paternity of our first child.

When I confronted Peter, his face paled. He finally confessed that his family had pressured him to take a paternity test after our son was born. To my shock, the test had come back negative, though Peter insisted he never doubted me. He hadn’t told me because he feared losing me.

I was devastated. How could he have kept this from me? I felt betrayed, but I also understood the pressure he had been under from his family. Still, the fact that he had hidden such a life-altering secret hurt deeply.

As I stormed out for fresh air, I thought about our son. Peter had loved him from the moment he was born, despite everything. This lie had caused a rift, but his love for our child never wavered.

When I returned, Peter was sitting at the table, eyes red from crying. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. I knew we couldn’t undo the past, but I also couldn’t walk away from the man I loved or the family we had built.

“We’ll figure this out,” I said softly. Healing would take time, but I was willing to try—together.