My husband Mark and I had struggled for years with infertility before deciding to adopt. After navigating interviews, home visits, and long waiting lists, we finally found Sam—a sweet, three-year-old boy with ocean-blue eyes. The moment I met him, I knew he was meant to be ours,
The drive home was quiet, with Sam holding a stuffed elephant, making trumpet noises. It felt like everything was falling into place. But then, while I was folding Sam’s pajamas, Mark suddenly panicked. “We have to take him back!” he said, his face pale. I was confused and scared. Mark admitted that Sam had a birthmark just like his, and after a long silence, he confessed: Sam was his biological son, the result of a brief fling years earlier. I was shattered. Mark had kept this secret, and now, facing the truth,
