A stranger arrives, claiming a connection to my son.

I stand firm: “You’re not taking my son.”

He insists he’s not there to fight, only to tell the truth, adding,

“Biology does.” The revelation shakes everything I thought I knew.

The Truth Revealed

He explains a past relationship with my wife and why he stayed away.

Now terminally ill, he says,

“Because he deserves to know where he comes from.”

He asks only for time—and honesty.

A Father’s Fear

I tell my son the truth at our kitchen table.

He listens, then asks, “Are you still my dad?”

I answer without hesitation: “Always.”

His condition is simple—meeting the man,

but coming home with me.

What Remains

They meet with care and boundaries.

The man never tries to replace me.

When he dies, love holds my son steady.

That Christmas, we hang three stockings—one for truth,

which arrived late, but left us whole.