It Was Christmas When My Wife Died Giving Birth – Ten Years Later, a Stranger Came to My Door with a Devastating Demand

The words didn’t make sense.

They crashed against the front of my mind without sticking. My voice came out sharper than I meant it to.

“My name is Spencer,” he said. “And I believe I’m Liam’s father.

Biologically.”

Something inside me recoiled. The sidewalk tilted beneath my feet. I tightened my grip on the car door.

“You’re mistaken.

You have to be. Liam is my son.”

“I think you need to leave,” I said.

The man didn’t move an inch. Instead, he reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a plain white envelope.

“I didn’t want to start like this, Caleb,” he said, “but I brought proof.”

“I don’t want it.

I just want you to leave. My family is already incomplete with my wife… You can’t take my son away.

I don’t care what story you have… I don’t care if there’s proof or not.”

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