After our son was born, I wanted a paternity test

shredded from the inside out.

“I want to make it right,” I say. “If you’ll let me.”

She laughs bitterly. “Make it right? You think a retest fixes this?”

“No,” I whisper. “But it’s a start.”

She studies me, then glances down at Nathan, who’s chewing on a toy and humming to himself. She bites her lip. “You want the retest?”

“I do.”

“And if it’s positive this continue reading …