By that evening, the doctor returned with the results.
He glanced between us. “Your DNA results are back. Henry, you are the biological father of both twins. This is… rare, but not impossible.”
Anna let out a sob, her whole body shaking with relief. I finally let myself breathe; everything was right there, in black and white.
But nothing was really simple after that.
When we brought the boys home, the questions didn’t stop.
“Your DNA results are back.”
Anna took it harder than I did. I could brush off a look or a question, but Anna… she had to live in it.
At the grocery store, the cashier glanced at our boys and gave a thin smile. “Twins, huh? They sure don’t look alike.”
Anna just gripped the cart tighter.
At daycare drop-off, another mom leaned in. “Which one’s yours?”
Anna forced a laugh. “Both of them. Genetics does what it wants, I guess.”
“Which one’s yours?”
Sometimes I’d catch her late at night, sitting in the boys’ room, just watching them breathe.
I’d kneel beside her. “Anna, what’s going on in your head?”
“Do you think your family believes me? About the boys?”
“I don’t care what anyone thinks.”
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