Romans & histoires The Day I Miscarried He Demanded A Paternity Test

“Miriam is claiming she’s pregnant and insists on proving her case. She’s demanding you proceed with the paternity DNA test immediately.” “I’ve already agreed to it,” I replied, my tone sharp. “Have the test conducted as soon as possible. Let me know the results.” “Understood, sir,” the officer replied. I hung up and turned back to Sophia, who was watching me intently. “Is everything okay?” she asked. “As okay as it can be,” I said, forcing a small smile. “The DNA test will settle this once and for all.” Two days later, I received the results. Miriam was indeed pregnant but I wasn’t the father. Relief washed over me, but it was quickly replaced by anger. She had tried to destroy my reputatio

“Why don’t we go for a new paternity test? The first one she did was done by Doctor Bernard , their family doctor, who is dead now.” “Okay, fine we will go for another paternity test but after I must have to confronted Opula with this revelation,” James replied. After Ken had left, James was stolen by a deep thought. This was the last straw that broke the camel’s back. The rest of the day was written off and James spent hours in worries and frustration.

He needed to provide a grandchild to keep control of the company, so he sought a woman who was already pregnant to claim her child. “The wedding is in two days, and my parents are already thrilled, wanting to meet my bride-to-be tomorrow. They’re all eager to see the woman who’s going to give them a grandchild. But that woman just had a miscarriage and is lying in this hospital. I have no idea how to navigate this,” he said bitterly. I could see how reddened his eyes had become from the stress. Before I could respond, Doctor Fred came in, relief on his face. “Miss Diana, I’m glad to let you know that the test results are back, and the baby is alright. The accident didn’t affect it at all. I’

The desperation in her voice was new. Grayson sat heavily on his couch, the events of the night weighing on him. Red's revelation and escape. Now this. It was too much, too fast. His mind wasn't clear enough to handle this properly on top of all the whiskey. He needed a bucket of it now. "We'll do a paternity test," he repeated firmly. "Non-invasive, so there's no risk to the baby. When that confirms I'm the father, we'll discuss arrangements." "And if it does?" Morgan's voice softened, turning hopeful. "If it is yours, Gray, maybe we could—"

If I'd held onto any hope before, his words yesterday killed it. Facing his questions now, I remained composed. "I'm not obliged to explain anything to you." Angelo glared at me like an enraged lion. "I'm your husband and the kid's father! How could you not tell me? After you miscarried four years ago, you know how much I wanted a kid." His words made me drift back to four years ago. He was starting his business, working nonstop. I took on every role I could to help and lived a chaotic schedule.

I should have wanted the baby to be Cassian’s. But I didn’t. And I didn’t know what the hell that meant. I held Cassian’s stare for a beat before answering. “I think we need a paternity test.” Cassian’s throat bobbed as he swallowed hard. His fingers flexed at his sides like he wanted to hit something, and honestly, I was right there with him. This whole situation was fucked.

“We’re going to get the test again, with a private lab this time.” “What if he was just trying to get under my skin?” I asked. “What if—” She cut me off with a look. “Men don’t joke about paternity like that unless they’re sure or cruel. And Andre Cox doesn’t strike me as careless.” That stung because it rang true. The test happened two days later. Discreet clinic. Cash payment. No paper trail tied to Imperial Aurium Group. The waiting was worse than the imagined. At night, I stood over Atlas’s crib, watching his chest rise and fall. His lashes were thick. His nose is small. He clenched his tiny fists the way Bonnie used to when she slept.

D. I didn't pick up the pen. "Henderson," I said. He looked up. "Yes?" "Get me a paternity test," I said. "Today."

he states casually. "Yeah, I do." The water explodes out of my mouth, completely missing a passing server by a miracle. "I... I..." I choke, resorting to waving my hands as apology wildly in the air as apology towards the server, instead of speaking. My head stretches forward in absolute shock at the absurdity I just heard. "She did *what*?!" "Well, we're unsure if the baby was actually his, considering the child died a day before the paternity test," he adds, his tone completely flat.

Because I didn't want my baby to have a father who calls his mother defective in front of him. *Day 89:* _Divorce Day. Our anniversary. He threw the papers on the table and said "You are barren, you are defective, sign it." I was wearing my loosest dress to hide my 3-month bump. The pen shook. I wanted to say "I'm not barren, I'm carrying your son, please look." But I looked at his face and I knew he wouldn't believe me. He believed his mother that I was barren. So I signed. Because I didn't want my baby to grow up hearing his father call his mother defective every day. I signed with his child kicking inside me._