I called the police. Not because I wanted Greg punished… I did.
But it was more than that, because what he did wasn’t just a betrayal. It was fraud, consent forgery, and a medical violation.
And Tiffany — she deserved the truth more than he deserved my silence.
**
Later, I watched Greg move around his suitcase.
“Sue.”
I didn’t step toward him. I didn’t reach for something I’d already learned was gone.
I called the police.
“No. We’re done here.”
He swallowed hard. “I can fix this.”
“No,” I said. “You can answer questions at the station. You can talk to your mother at her house. But not here. Not in my home.”
“You’re leaving me?”
“No, I’m kicking you out. I’m staying here with my daughter. She needs stability, not half-truths.”
I heard a neighbor’s car door slam outside and knew that was it — that was the moment I stopped pretending we were fine.
“I can fix this.”
Greg didn’t argue.
He called his mother on speaker as he zipped the suitcase.
“Mom,” he said, voice cracking, “I messed up.”
Her silence filled our home.
**
That afternoon, I took Tiffany to the police station. Greg sat across from us in the interview room, eyes red, hands clasped. The officer’s voice was calm but cutting.
Greg didn’t argue.
“Did you submit another man’s DNA to the clinic?”
“Did you forge your wife’s consent?”
Greg nodded.
Lindsay was there too, arms folded, jaw tight. She didn’t say a word. She just watched. When our eyes met, she nodded once.
Not approval. Not forgiveness. Just solidarity.
Tiffany hugged me tightly before bed.
“Did you forge your wife’s consent?”
“I just want things to be normal again, Mom.”
