When our son was born with blond hair and light eyes, my mother-in-law couldn’t bear the thought that he might be her son’s child. She quickly set her mind on proving he wasn’t.
“I’m sorry, but my mother will never give up,” my husband Ivan told me. “And what if she’s right? Would you agree to take the test so we can be done with this?”
Those words broke my heart. I loved Ivan, and I had never betrayed his trust. Hearing that request, even under his mother’s pressure, hurt me more than I could ever express.
“Fine,” I replied coldly. “We’ll do the test. But afterwards, you’ll do what I ask.”
The following days were heavy and tense. I decided to gather the whole family when the results came in. The rest of the story is in the link in the comments 👇👇👇
Ivan and I had been married for four years. Our relationship wasn’t perfect, but we supported each other. The only real obstacle between us was his mother, Ludmila Ivanovna.
From the start, Ludmila made no effort to hide that she didn’t like me. Luckily, we lived far enough apart, and our meetings were limited to special occasions. I tried to ignore her hurtful remarks. But when our son was born, everything changed.
Ludmila started coming over almost every day. At first, pretending she wanted to help, see the baby, or give advice. But very quickly, I realized it wasn’t so innocent.
“Ivan, this is not your son,” she kept saying. “Look at him. Blond hair? Green eyes? It’s not possible.”
Ivan tried to calm her down.
“Mom, that’s enough. He’s my son. I know it.”
But Ludmila grew more and more insistent. She spread doubt within the family, constantly repeating that it needed to be checked. Little by little, even cousins and aunts began to whisper.
One evening, Ivan came home, avoiding my gaze.
“I’m sorry… My mother keeps insisting… And what if she’s right? Would you be willing to do the test?”
It was unbearable. The trust was falling apart.
“Fine,” I said. “But after that, I’m the one who decides.”
He was surprised but agreed.
A few days later, the results arrived: “Paternity probability: 99.99%”. Ivan breathed a sigh of relief. Ludmila was silent — for the first time in weeks.
“Well, Mom? Is this enough for you now?” Ivan asked her.
She shrugged.
“Maybe I was wrong… But still…”
I wasn’t listening anymore. I had already packed my things.
“Where are you going?” he exclaimed.
“I’m leaving,” I replied. “I can’t stay with a man who lets his mother doubt me and destroy our marriage.”
“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean it against you, it’s her…”
“You gave her the space to do it. You destroyed what we had.”
I left that night. And I never answered his calls or messages again. Ivan tried to stop me, tried to apologize. But once trust is broken, it can never truly be repaired.
