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The doctor explained recessive genes, how traits from way back could show up. It made sense, but it didn’t erase my shame for wavering.
I hurried back, clutching the results like a lifeline. When I opened the door, Lauren looked up, her eyes full of fragile hope.
I crossed the room and handed her the paper. Her hands shook as she read, then she broke down, tears of relief streaming down her face.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, my voice thick. “I’m so sorry I doubted you.”
She shook her head, pulling me close, our daughter between us. “We’re okay now,” she said softly.
As I held them, I made a silent promise: no matter what came next, no matter who tried to pull us apart, I’d protect my family. This was my wife, my child, and I’d never let doubt divide us again.
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