Chapter 6 - The DNA Test That Broke My Husband
“IF YOU'RE SO SURE THOSE BABIES ARE MINE, BROOKE, THEN WHY ARE YOU AFRAID OF A DNA TEST?”
Arthur stood inside Brooke's apartment, his voice shaking.
She was sitting on the couch with June sleeping against her shoulder.
Oliver rested in a bassinet nearby.
For the first time, Arthur wasn't looking at Brooke with admiration.
He was looking at her with fear.
“Arthur, you're frightening me,” she said.
He stepped backward.
“I'm not going to hurt you. I just want the truth.”
Brooke adjusted the blanket around June.
“You've loved these babies since the moment they were born.”
“That isn't an answer.”
She looked away.
Arthur's voice dropped.
“Did you know about my medical condition before you told me you were pregnant?”
Brooke closed her eyes.
“Yes.”
The admission seemed to empty the room of air.
Arthur looked toward the bassinets.
He remembered the first time he'd held Oliver.
The baby's tiny fingers had curled around his thumb.
He remembered crying when June opened her eyes.
For months, he'd imagined teaching them to ride bicycles, taking them to baseball games, and helping them with homework.
He had pictured himself becoming the father he believed he'd always wanted to be.
Now he didn't know whether the children were biologically his.
But he knew they hadn't chosen any of this.
“Why?” he whispered.
Brooke began crying.
“Because I thought we could have a family.”
Arthur stared at her.
“You could have told me the truth.”
“I was afraid you'd leave.”
“You knew I was married.”
“So did you.”
He looked away.
For once, he couldn't argue.
Brooke had betrayed me.
But he had betrayed me too.
He couldn't pretend their relationship had happened without his willing participation.
“I want a paternity test,” he said.
Brooke wiped her eyes.
“And if you're not their father?”
Arthur looked at the babies again.
His voice broke.
“I don't know.”
I learned about that conversation two days later, when Arthur's attorney contacted Rebecca.
Arthur wanted to establish paternity through an accredited laboratory.
Brooke had initially objected, but after consulting her own lawyer, she agreed to arrange testing.
I had no interest in becoming involved in their personal dispute.
The children deserved answers.
Arthur deserved accurate medical information about himself.
And Brooke had an obligation to be honest about the circumstances of their birth.
But none of that changed the financial investigation.
Rebecca made that distinction clear when Arthur asked for a private meeting with me.
“Claire isn't going to negotiate the fraud investigation in exchange for your paternity concerns,” she told his attorney.
Arthur eventually agreed.
Still, he called me that evening.
I answered because I wanted to say one final thing.
“Claire.”
“Arthur.”
“I've arranged the test.”
“I hope you get accurate answers.”
He hesitated.
“Do you think they're mine?”
I looked at the yellow nursery walls.
“Arthur, the old medical report doesn't settle paternity. The test will help answer that question.”
“I never knew about my condition.”
“I know.”
“Do you believe I would have treated you differently if I'd known?”
His question startled me.
I thought about it.
Then I answered honestly.
“I don't know.”
He exhaled.
“I keep thinking about the miscarriages.”
“So do I.”
“Claire, what if I spent twelve years blaming you for something neither of us understood?”
I stared at the floor.
“Then you need to live with that knowledge.”
His voice trembled.
“I loved you.”
I closed my eyes.
“I believe you loved the version of me who made your life easier.”
“That isn't fair.”
“Neither was telling me another woman gave you the family I couldn't.”
Silence.
Finally, Arthur whispered:
“I'm sorry.”
I let the words settle.
Then I said:
“Arthur, I hope one day you understand that being sorry is the beginning of accountability, not the end.”
I ended the call.
The next morning, I met with Victoria.
She had asked to see me at a small café near my office.
I almost refused.
But something in her voice made me agree.
When I arrived, she was sitting near the window with two untouched cups of tea.
She looked older than she had a week earlier.
“Thank you for coming,” she said.
I sat down.
“How are you?”
She gave a sad smile.
“Trying to understand how everything went so wrong.”
I looked at her.
“Victoria, you didn't steal my money.”
“No. But I kept a medical secret that affected both of your lives.”
I didn't disagree.
She reached into her handbag and removed a small envelope.
“I brought something for you.”
Inside was a photograph of Arthur as a boy.
He was about eight years old, standing beside his father near a fishing lake.
Arthur had a huge smile.
Victoria watched me study it.
“He was such a gentle child.”
I looked up.
“What happened to him?”
She sighed.
“His father believed that a man had to be successful to deserve respect. Whenever Arthur failed at something, he was humiliated.”
I remembered my father.
He'd never cared much about money.
He measured success by whether someone could be trusted when things became difficult.
Victoria continued.
“When Arthur became an adult, he started confusing admiration with love.”
I placed the photograph on the table.
“That might explain some of his behavior. It doesn't excuse it.”
“I know.”
She reached for my hand.
“Claire, I want you to know that you were never a disappointment to me.”
My eyes filled with tears.
“I needed to hear that a long time ago.”
She nodded.
“I should have said it more often.”
We sat together quietly.
There was no dramatic reconciliation.
No perfect forgiveness.
Just two women acknowledging that the people they loved had caused terrible harm.
Four days later, Arthur received the paternity results.
He opened the report in his attorney's office.
The test compared his DNA with samples collected from Oliver and June.
The laboratory's conclusion was clear.
Arthur was excluded as the biological father of both children.
He stared at the results for several minutes.
Then he began crying.
His attorney later told Rebecca that Arthur had asked for privacy and spent nearly an hour sitting alone.
I didn't celebrate when I heard.
I felt an unexpected sadness.
Not for the marriage.
That was over.
But for the children who had been born into such confusion.
Oliver and June deserved adults who put their well-being above money, pride, and revenge.
Arthur's pain didn't erase the hurt he'd caused.
But I didn't need him to suffer endlessly in order to rebuild my own life.
That afternoon, Graham Sloane's wife contacted my attorney.
Her name was Elise.
She wanted to speak with me.
Rebecca arranged a meeting at her office.
Elise arrived wearing a simple navy dress.
She was elegant, composed, and visibly exhausted.
She sat across from me and folded her hands.
“Claire, I know who you are.”
I nodded.
“I know who you are too.”
She swallowed.
“I think our lives have been connected in ways neither of us understood.”
Rebecca leaned forward.
“Mrs. Sloane, what would you like to tell us?”
Elise looked directly at me.
“My husband has been seeing Brooke for almost three years.”
I felt my stomach tighten.
Three years.
Much longer than Arthur's affair.
Elise continued.
“And I believe he's the biological father of her twins.”
I looked at Rebecca.
Elise opened her handbag and removed a folder.
Inside were hotel receipts, photographs, and copies of financial documents she'd discovered during her own divorce preparations.
“I don't have a paternity test,” she explained. “But I have enough evidence to show Graham's relationship with Brooke started long before Arthur became involved.”
I stared at the photographs.
Graham and Brooke standing together at a resort.
Graham kissing her outside a restaurant.
Graham holding her hand at a private event.
Elise turned another page.
“This is why I contacted you.”
It was a financial statement.
A transfer from Crescent Bridge Partners to an account bearing Elise's name.
I recognized the amount.
Two hundred thousand dollars.
“The account isn't mine,” Elise said. “Graham used my identity to establish it without my consent.”
Rebecca studied the document carefully.
“Have you reported this?”
“My attorney is helping me do that.”
Then Elise leaned closer.
“Claire, there's something else.”
I looked at her.
“Graham never intended Arthur to become an executive partner.”
My throat tightened.
“He told Arthur he would run Northstar after the acquisition.”
Elise nodded.
“I know. But Graham had a different plan.”
She reached into her folder and removed a draft document.
It was an employment termination agreement.
Arthur's name appeared at the top.
The proposed effective date was thirty days after the Beacon acquisition.
I stared at it.
Graham had planned to use Arthur to obtain my technology.
Then discard him.
But the last page contained a clause that made my blood run cold.
May you like
It assigned responsibility for any unauthorized financial transactions to Arthur Bennett.
Graham had prepared to take my company, ruin my reputation, and leave my husband holding the blame for everything.
Related Stories
