I thought I knew love—holding Elena’s hand, cooking together, dreaming of a family. After years of heartbreak, she finally became pregnant, and I was ready to be the best dad.
But weeks before her due date, Elena asked me not to be in the delivery room. When I saw our daughter—pale skin, blue eyes—I panicked and accused her of cheating. Elena simply pointed to a crescent birthmark, the same one passed down in my family. She later explained a rare gene could make our child look different.
Still, doubts and gossip haunted us until a DNA test proved the truth. Now, every night, I kiss my daughter’s birthmark—a reminder that love is trust, and family is something you choose to protect.
