My wife insisted that our little boy, 7, learn guitar. His teacher is a 25-year-old guy. One day, my wife was sick, so I drove my son instead. He cried, and I told him he didn’t have to go. He turned and replied, “Mom says I have to cause I have talent like my dad.” Strange—I don’t play music.
Later, I decided to meet the teacher privately. I went to his house and was shocked to find traces of my wife everywhere. In a corner, her favorite plant, lucky bamboo, was sitting. The furniture was teal, her favorite color. He offered me her favorite drink, and on a chair, I spotted a satin scarf that looked just like one my wife owned. Could all of this really be a coincidence?
That night, I confronted my wife. She denied everything and called me crazy, but I refused to let it go. Eventually, she broke down crying and admitted she knew the guy back in college. He had been her boyfriend for a short time, but she swore there was no affair.
Now my life feels like it’s turned upside down, and I can’t shake the thought of getting a DNA test for my son.