No DNA-laden tadpoles.
No way that the child was mine.
If you asked me 10-years ago if I could ever imagine myself sitting in a doctor's office waiting for my sperm count to arrive, I would have told you to fuck off. Or maybe piss off, since I hadn't lived enough life 10-years ago to cuss appropriately.
Yet, here I was. My soon to be ex-wife was pregnant. She didn't know if was my child or the child of the irish man she ran off with 2-months prior. Apparently, that surgery I survived only guarantees 99.995% success. But the test results came back negative.
Most people in that situation would be relieved. I was not. The woman I was driving home to was still my wife, still the mother of our two daughters, and still a woman I loved deeply.
But no more. Never did ZERO mean so much to me. I would lose everything, but gain shocking clarity that day.