I suspected my wife of infidelity when she gave birth to a boy—my third son.

My name is Oliver. Ive always considered myself a very fortunate man, blessed both as a father and a husband. I married Emily, the girl I had loved since our schooldays. She faithfully waited for me while I was away with the army, and when I returned, we wasted no time in tying the knot.

First, our eldest son, William, was born. Three years later, our second son, Thomas, joined us. But deep down, I always longed for a daughter. Even when Emily was pregnant the first time, I kept telling everyone how much I dreamed of having a little girl. Most fellows are keen on having sons, but all I wished for was a daughter. As it turned out, Emily gave birth to a boy. Then, a few years later, another boy followed.

Emily and I shared a wonderful life, watching our boys grow up. Out of the blue, Emily dropped some surprising news: she was pregnant once again. I was absolutely taken aback. A third child hadnt really been on the cards for us, but despite the shock, I was overjoyed at the thought of welcoming another baby into our family.

This time, Im sure itll be a girl! I said. Emily shared my confidence, grinning, I reckon were finally going to get our little lady! Our mums were both convinced, just by looking at Emilys bump, that it was a girl, and even the scan results agreed. All of us began preparing for a daughter, and the boys had fun thinking up names for their little sister.

When the time came, I drove Emily to the hospital. I didnt sleep a wink all nightworrying about my dear Emily and whether wed finally have our girl. When morning arrived, I phoned the hospital and was told my son had been born, weighing 3.2kg and 54cm long.

I couldnt believe it. Surely, it was a mistake! We were so certain it was a girl. But, it was indeed another boy. No one expected thiscertainly not me, nor anyone else in the family. I simply couldnt grasp how both the sonographer and the grandmothers could be so wrong. When I rang Emily, my mind spun and, foolishly, I blurted out, Did you have a fling with our neighbour?

She was absolutely indignant: What on earth are you talking about? Have you completely lost your mind?! I stammered, But we were sure it would be a girl! Annoyed, Emily cut me off and hung up.

Eventually, Emily and our son came home. She unwrapped the blanket, and there he was: a tiny, helpless baby boy in need of all the love and care I could give. In that moment, I fell in love with my third son.

Four and a half years have gone by. We called our youngest Harry. I taught Harry to ride his scooter. Though he didnt look a bit like mebarely resembling Emily either, while the two older boys were my spitting image.

One day, I overheard a couple of old ladies nattering by the front gate, gossiping about how Harry looked nothing like me, hinting perhaps he was the image of Ben from down the street. Their words stung. That evening, I confronted Emily, asking if Harry really was my son.

She was furious: Not this again! How could you even think such a thing? I only got a lift from Ben once when I was already pregnantfeeling horribly sick and juggling my shopping. Thats all it was! I retorted, That may be, but Harry barely looks like either of us!

A big row followed. Eventually, I told Emily I wanted a DNA test. She refused at first, but after a fortnight, she agreed, warning me that shed divorce me if we went through with it. I assumed she was just boiling over with anger, but eventually, we both agreed to take the test.

One evening, as I was taking out the bins, I bumped into Ben. Hes 35 now and still hasnt settled down. I studied his face, looking for something of Harry, but, if anything, they had nothing in common.

I went back inside, sat in the kitchen, my mind wrestling with doubts. Just then, Harry ran up, hopped onto my knee, and snuggled into my arms, chattering away. My worries lifted. What on earth was I doing? DNA test or not, he was my sonI could feel it in my bones. I scooped him up and went to Emily in the bedroom.

No more tests, I said.

She looked at me, a mixture of relief and lingering hurt in her eyes. So, after all that, you finally trust me again? she sniffed. I was all set to take the test just to prove it to youbut I shouldnt have to prove anything. Hes your son, and I never betrayed you.

For days afterward, I tried making it up to her for ever doubting her, and in the end, Emily forgave me. The kids have grown. Our eldest, William, is married now, and his wife is expecting. Soon after, Emily and I become grandparentsa little granddaughter at last, someone I can dote on, just as Id always hoped.

Now, I know for certaintheres more than enough love in my heart for her, just as there always has been for my three boys.