My wife was the one who pushed for our 7-year-old son to start guitar lessons. She said it would be good for him, that he had a natural gift, and she seemed unusually determined to make it happen. His teacher is a 25-year-old guy, and until recently, I never thought much of it.
Then one day my wife got sick, so I had to drive our son to his lesson myself.
On the way there, my son suddenly started crying. I told him it was okay, that if he didn’t want to go, he didn’t have to. That’s when he looked at me and said something that made me pause: “Mom says I have to because I have talent like my dad.”
That felt strange immediately—because I don’t play guitar, and I’m not musical at all.
The comment stuck with me, and later I decided to meet the teacher privately.
When I went to his house, I started noticing things that made my stomach twist. In the corner was a lucky bamboo plant—my wife’s favorite kind. The furniture was teal, which has always been her favorite color. Then he offered me a drink… and it happened to be her favorite too. And on a chair, I noticed a satin scarf that looked just like one she owns.
One thing? Fine. Two things? Weird. But all of that together?
I couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t random.
That night, I confronted my wife. At first she denied everything and told me I was being paranoid. She said I was imagining things and acting crazy. But I wouldn’t let it go.
Eventually, she broke down crying and admitted the truth: she knew him from college. He had been her boyfriend for a short time. She insisted there’s no affair now, that it was years ago, that it means nothing.
But after hearing that, I feel like the ground under my feet has shifted.
Now I can’t stop replaying everything in my mind—and I hate that I’m even thinking this, but the idea of getting a DNA test for my son won’t leave my head.
