after the children had fallen asleep, my husband came up to me with such a strange expression that it looked as if he was about to tell me something terrible.

“I need to talk to you,” he said in a tired voice.

“About what?” I felt a cold shiver run down my spine.

“About the kids…” he sighed, avoiding my eyes. “I’ve noticed for a long time that they don’t look like me at all. And… I’ve always doubted. Always.”

At first I thought he was joking.

“Seriously? We raised them together, you saw everything with your own eyes!”

But my husband continued:

“I need a DNA test. For my own peace of mind. To stop torturing myself. If you’re sure everything is honest — you have nothing to fear.”