“Then he would be related to you?” Eric finished. He turned toward his father. “Dad? Want to explain, or should I?”
Richard’s hands gripped his armchair so tight his knuckles turned white. “Son, please…”
Eric stood up, running a hand through his hair. “I took a DNA test last year, Mom. Found some… interesting results. Dad finally told me the truth after I confronted him.”
Linda stared at her husband.
“You’re not my biological mother,” Eric said quietly. “You never were.”
For the first time in all the years I’d known her, Linda was completely speechless.
“That’s ridiculous,” Linda whispered, but her voice lacked its usual conviction. “Richard, tell him that’s ridiculous.”
My father-in-law looked like he’d aged ten years in the last ten minutes. “Linda,” he said softly, “it’s time you knew the truth.”
“The truth?” Her laugh was borderline hysterical. “What truth?”
“About the baby we lost,” Richard said, his voice cracking. “The one you carried for seven months before…” He couldn’t finish the sentence.
“You did,” Richard interrupted gently. “But you were so ill afterward, the doctors worried you wouldn’t survive the grief. You’d already had three miscarriages before that. They said your mind just… couldn’t take another loss.”
I moved closer to Eric, taking his hand.
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