Perfect Marriage

Another 'loving wives' story with no real sex action, so be pre-warned.

Like the 'hero', I know little about medical terms and things, so I apologise in advance if I got anything wrong.

Hope you enjoy it!

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The perfect marriage eh!

Yes, that's what I had.

Or at least as far as I was concerned, that was indeed the case.

My wife Hilly and I had tied the proverbial knot nearly twenty years ago. In fact the twenty years were up in a few weeks time, the tenth of December, and I could honestly say that I couldn't have changed much to have made our life together much better. We had the odd argument of course, but the making up was always that much sweeter.

That's just the way we were.

There had only been one really black period in our marriage, and that was in the second year. We'd both married young, me twenty, and Hilly just eighteen, and we'd been childhood sweethearts, living just round the corner from one another. My elder brother Bob had married her sister, Pam, the year before, and it just seemed the right thing to do.

Our problem was that the other two had produced their first child during the first year, but it seemed that we were unable.

We took tests --- both of us, even though the doctors told us we were worrying too much and to just let it happen, but the problem was Hilly's parents, or rather her mother, who kept on at us to get on with starting a family.

Their family were like that of course, and besides her sister Pam, Hilly had three other sisters. Jan, my mother in law, was so desperate for a son in the family having failed to produce one herself, and of course Bob and Pam's firstborn had been yet another girl.

Pressure!

The results from the tests were pretty inconclusive as it happened. Hilly was Ok, and I had a slightly below level sperm count or something.

I never really understood any of it. The doctors assured us that it wasn't too serious, and that all was OK, and to just be patient, and that our first baby would surely make it's own mind up when to arrive.

We were patient, but that didn't mean it didn't put strain on our marriage. Fortunately we didn't have to wait too long as it turned out, and during our third year of marriage Hilly produced just as the doctor had promised.

Linda ---- a beautiful little baby in all respects, but yet another girl. It did at least allay our fears whether we could have a child or not, and from then on everything settled down, and our marriage became the perfect arrangement and carried on that way. No doubt because we were more relaxed about it, Hilly soon became pregnant again, and at last Tom was born.

Yes a boy, and the whole family were over the moon with joy. Now don't get the impression that the girl babies were over looked or less loved in any way, but that first son in the family simply seemed to make everything special.

"Well, it was me that did it first," I bragged to my big brother, but all he did was smile back at me and tell me to give him time.

Well ---- he got that and sure enough the following year they had their first son, and bugger me if eight months later if we didn't have yet another, who we called Mike.

Like busses wasn't it. You wait for an eternity, and then a whole load of them come along at the same time!

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I suppose because we were two brothers and two sisters, that we all lived like one big happy family. Even when Hilly's other sisters got married, they just seemed to be drawn in. It was great for the kids and of course none of us ever lacked for a babysitter when we needed one.

As far as I know, the other couples were just as happy as Hilly and I were, simply enjoying the wonder of a simple married life, with loving family around.

There were a few other hitches, such as when Bob had his accident at work, and I had to be virtually strapped up alongside him it seemed, as they slowly transfused my blood into him. He got over it and of course I was none the worse for it, often joking in a brotherly way that we were truly blood brothers now.

As we approached our twentieth anniversary, we were wondering how to celebrate it. Bob and Pam had celebrated theirs the year before and everyone had enjoyed getting together so much, that we decided to do just about the same thing, and had booked a private room in the local hotel for a big gathering of family and friends.

By then Linda was a very pretty girl of seventeen, a younger and probably even prettier version of her mother, with lustrous dark brown hair, and huge green eyes that caught your attention whenever she looked in your direction. They were built much the same as well; both slender with nice legs and all the other bits and pieces that perhaps a father shouldn't dwell upon too much. She of course had a succession of boy friends, and the house always seemed to have one or other of them either coming or going, but she had a sensible head on her shoulders so we just went with the tide.

Tom was, I always thought, a bit more like me. Sturdier in build and it suited him. He loved rugby just as Bob and I had at his age, and at almost sixteen he was already a regular choice at fly half for his school first team.

And young Mike, the youngest!

Well ----- perhaps he was going through a difficult period, and not being as good at sport as Tom, or for that matter as popular as Linda, poor Mike wasn't having the best of years.

Nothing serious you understand; he was very intelligent, probably more so than the other two, and did very well at school. Just acting like a perfectly normal, totally impossible to understand teenager.

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That day!

Perhaps I should have been more understanding that day.

Perhaps I should have ignored the mess he'd left on the dining table.

Perhaps I should have just cleared it up after him.

But did I?

No!

"You're not going out till you've cleared up that mess Mike," I told him firmly.

"I'll do it later," he replied sulkily.

"You'll do it now Mike," I insisted.

"Why are you always picking on me?" He shouted back, losing his temper.

"I'm not," I spoke abruptly to him. "You're a member of this family and you'll abide by our rules the same as the others."

"Who's going to make me," Mike almost cried, really losing his rag.

"I am," I got back at him, beginning to lose mine. "I'm your father and you'll do as I say."

"My father are you," he screamed back. "You sure about that?"

I came to a sudden halt, my next repost still buried in my throat, shocked at what he'd just said.

"Sorry Dad," Mike jumped in with, a pained look on his face. "Sorry Dad ---- I didn't mean to say that. I'll clear it up straight away."

With that he looked away from me and scrabbled about on the table, picking up the books and other things that he had left there. Minutes later it was all clear and he scooted out of the room without saying another word, leaving me in a world of my own, wondering if that world was about to cave in on me.

Trouble was of course Mike was and had always been so different from the other two, more studious, more serious, but less gregarious than his older siblings.

I'd often wondered why he was so different, and had even discussed it with Hilly, but she'd just shrugged her shoulders and told me that I was imagining it.

Was I?

Had I been?

What on earth had prompted Mike to make that remark?

If he'd just shouted it out in anger and stormed off, then I would have been pissed off with him, but that would have been the end of it. But he'd been so quick to apologise and withdraw the remark ---- Why was that?

What did he know that I didn't?

Oh shit!

I really didn't want to be thinking the thoughts that were going through my troubled brain at that moment.

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My first reaction was to rush off and find Hilly and demand to know what she had been up to.

But where would that get me?

What would I say?

I could hardly just go and accuse her of fucking some other guy behind my back. If she had been then she would simply deny it, and if she hadn't, then how would she ever forgive me for doubting her.

Besides it must have been sixteen years or more ago.

But did that make any difference?

Was it still going on?

My stomach was churning and I felt like being sick, and I still didn't even know if I had anything to worry about.

Oh God, what a terrible day that was.

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BLOOD GROUPS!

That's it I thought and without further ado, I went into our study and rooted out the kid's medical files.

Linda, Tom and Mike ---- All O+, which, after my time giving blood to my brother, I knew was the same as me.

I felt a wave of relief sweep over me, till it occurred to me that blood groups didn't tell you the whole story. If Mike had been different, then that was one thing. But them all being the same group could have been coincidence, and didn't confirm that he was truly my own son.

Oh Golly! What to do?

DNA?

I couldn't believe I was thinking of such a measure, and that I was getting one loose comment from an angry son way out of proportion.

I was panicking without due cause.

But when that evening at dinner, Mike could not meet my eye throughout the meal I got worried again. Then when he shot off from the table without a word to anyone, I got really worried.

"What's wrong with Mike?" Asked Hilly, also noticing his strange behaviour.

"No idea," I replied, shrugging my shoulders. "You two kids any ideas?"

They both shook their heads, probably not even having noticed anything odd.

"Has he been upset about anything?" I pressed them, but they just shook their heads.

Waiting for the two youngsters to leave the table, I plucked up the courage to question my wife a little.

"Mike's so different to the other two, Hilly," I started. "Any ideas why that could be?"

"Oh let's not go down that road again Davie," she answered me, standing up to put the dishes away. "He's not that different. Just a little deeper than the other two."

End of conversation!

Was that deliberate? Or was she genuinely unconcerned about it? I really didn't know.

DNA?

Why not find out about it, and twenty minutes later I was Googling it on the Internet. An hour later and my mind was full of facts and figures, but I was honestly not much the wiser.

It wasn't till the Monday morning that I found the name of a laboratory that carried out test. I took me nearly an hour to find it, and no doubt my secretary could have done it in much less. But what excuse do you make to your secretary as to why you need one?

Exactly ---- That's why I chose to do it myself.

They could do it; they had no qualms about that, but it was expensive, especially if you wanted the results back as quickly as I did.

But I had to know before I risked throwing my marriage away ---- Was Mike my son or not?

When I told them that I had three children, they suggested that I send in samples of each of them to cross check along with one of my own.

Have you ever tried getting a single hair from your grown up children? Not easy, I can tell you, and with Mike continuing to avoid me whenever possible, his was the most difficult of all.

However, I managed it and sent them off and waited. Now all I had to do was wait to find out if Mike was my son.

Over the next week, Mike seemed to settle down again, probably relieved that I hadn't bought the matter of his outburst up with him. We'd almost got to the point when I felt I could have gently broached the subject, but thought it better to wait till I had the results now that I had gone down that route.

My wife of course continued to be her normal loving self, and nothing else seemed to change in our daily routine. Can't say as it was the most enthusiastic sex we had during those few days, but I didn't refuse it!

Just the doubt was eating me up inside, and though I did my best to hide it from Hilly, I simply couldn't have sex with her without wondering who else may have done, during the twenty years of our marriage.

We had dinner with my brother and his wife one night and when he and I were alone at one point, I almost confessed my concerns to him. He and I were very alike in almost every way, so if someone else was Mike's father, then reason dictated that it couldn't be him.

My God! Why was I even thinking that way? Had I become so paranoid already?

However, something stopped me. I didn't have to burden him with my doubts, and after all, I was sure he'd be there for me if the results when they came were not good.

I kept my cool. I kept quiet.

I kept so quiet that Hilly asked a couple of times whether I was OK.

"I'm alright," I answered her. "Just got a few things on my mind."

She looked concerned for a moment, but didn't press me further.

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The results came. I had them delivered to my office just in case Hilly got there before me and opened the letter.

I read it with my hands shaking as I tried to fathom out what it all meant.

Was this piece of paper going to signify the end of my marriage?

I read it.

As far as I could see, Mike's results seemed to be a good match for mine and I relaxed, even though I still didn't understand it all. You may have guessed by now that medical terms are all mumbo-jumbo to me.

In fact the whole report seemed to be full of 'good match', and 'close match', so it seemed that it had all been a storm in a teacup.

What a damn relief!

I felt tears welling up in my eyes, and thanked the heavens that I hadn't mentioned my fears to Hilly. I resolved to make it up to her that evening ---- Maybe take her out to dinner, and afterwards .....?

Reading the covering letter again, which I hadn't taken too much notice of, I saw that the lab wanted me to give them a ring to discuss the results. Just wanted an excuse to make a bit more money out of me I supposed, and I wondered whether I should bother.

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"Hello, this is Davie Jones here," I said when the phone answered. "Dr Hoskins has asked me to ring him."

After giving the woman some references and things, I was eventually put through to the good doctor.

"Hello Mr. Jones," he greeted me. "Have you had a chance to look at the results we sent you?"

"Yes," I replied confidently. "If I understand correctly, then it does seem that my concerns about my son Mike were ungrounded."

"Yes indeed, but not quite as straightforward as that I'm afraid," he hit me with, and the floor seemed to disappear beneath my feet as I waited for him to destroy my world.

"You mean he's not my son?" I mumbled back to him.

"It's not that Mr. Jones," he went on. "There's less than a million to one chance that he is not your offspring. I would stake my whole reputation on his being your natural born son."

"So Mike is my real son then," was my relieved response.

"Yes he is Mr. Jones."

"What's the problem then," I carried on uncertainly. "What on earth else could be wrong?"

I was really quite worried by then, because I had read somewhere that DNA testing could also highlight genetic diseases and suchlike.

Was Mike ill?

Did one of us have something awful?

What was he about to tell me?

"It's the other two samples you sent in," the doctor informed me heavily. "The ones from your son's brother and sister?"

"Yes what about them," I replied, beginning to panic. "Is there something wrong with one of them?"

"Well it would appear that they are only half siblings to your youngest son Mr. Jones."

"Half siblings," I stuttered at him. "What on earth does that mean Doctor? What's a half sibling?"

"It means Mr. Jones," he continued. "That it is highly unlikely that you are their real father."

I dropped the phone, and the next thing I remembered was coming to with a group of my work colleagues around me.

"Give him some air," I heard someone call out, as I slowly came round fighting for my breath.

"You OK Davie?" Asked another voice, and I nodded my head, trying to stand back up. They helped me, and I found myself sitting in my chair, people mumbling behind my back about how hot it was in the office, and what strain they were all under due to the work load.

What a load of nonsense!

If only they knew.

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They got someone to run me home, telling me to take the rest of the day off. I was grateful that when I got there, that the house was empty, Hilly being out at her part time job, and the kids at school.

I had to do it.

I dreaded doing it, but I had to.

With trembling fingers I redialled the number of the laboratory, and within moments I was speaking again to the doctor, apologising for cutting the line earlier.

"Sorry Mr Jones," he said. "I should have given you a bit more warning, but all we operate is a postal service and it's sometimes very difficult."

I told him I understood, that I was OK, and he went over the test results with me again.

Mike was undoubtedly mine.

Linda and Tom were very unlikely to have been my children.

"But the results said all the matches were good or close Doctor," I pleaded. "Could there be some mistake."

"If we'd had only other one sample," he explained carefully. "We may well have asked for another sample to verify. But with two samples, it's almost one hundred per cent sure. The two of them are full brother and sister, but I'm afraid it's unlikely that you're their father."

"But you said they were close," I reiterated, desperately hanging on to the slimmest thread of hope. "What does that mean?"

"Do you have a twin Mr Jones," he cautiously probed. "Or maybe a brother?"

"My brother!" I exclaimed excitedly. "What the hell's he got to do with it?"

"You must draw your own conclusions Mr. Jones," the doctor droned on. "If you could get us a sample from your brother then we could do some verification."

But I was no longer listening.

My perfect little world had indeed come to an abrupt end.

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What to do about it?

Did I want to end my marriage?

Did I want to end my lifetime relationship with my only brother?

You can change your wife, but you sure as hell can't change your brother.

Would it just be better to carry on as if I knew nothing? Carry on living a miserable lie.

I couldn't.

Anyway, what about Mike?

He knew something, that was for sure, but it appeared he had the wrong end of the stick.

I would certainly see my son Mike in a different light from then on, but would I love Linda and Tom any less?

I couldn't imagine that I would --- how could I? They were my children whether it was my sperm that created them or not, and no little piece of paper was going to change that.

What about Hilly?

Now that was the question. What about the bitch? And my bastard of a brother for that matter.

And Pam, my sister in Law ----- what about her? How would she take the news?

How would the rest of the family take the news?

Too many questions left my mind spinning.

Oh God, this was all so complicated, and I didn't feel up to the challenge.

I remember going out of the front door and starting to walk down the street, but the next thing I could recall was waking up in hospital, with bandages all over my arms.

I'd fallen in front of a car while piss blind drunk, but I didn't know that at the time.

"Davie! Are you OK?"

I looked round to see who had asked the question, but it hurt. It hurt like hell.

Recognition dawned and I realised it was my ex wife talking to me. No ---- not yet anyway. She was still my wife.

I didn't say anything, or at least anything significant; just didn't know what to say.

How about;

"Hi honey, just discovered two are the kids are not mine, and that you've been fucking my brother. Have you had a nice day? What's for dinner?"

Just doesn't sound quite right does it?