A man is accused of being the father of a baby abandoned on his doorstep and it costs him his marriage and his way of life.
Kyle Greenbecker had spent a year working on an oil pipeline in Alaska, but finally, he was on his way home to his beautiful wife. He and Lisa met in high school, and Kyle had never regretted marrying her at nineteen.
Maybe he was old-fashioned, but Kyle was proud that Lisa was the only woman he’d been intimate with in his life. He didn’t need and didn’t want anyone else. It never occurred to him that Lisa would ever doubt him — and with good reason.
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When his plane landed, Kyle collected his luggage and walked out with the other passengers, scanning the crowd for Lisa’s beloved face, but she wasn’t there to pick him up.
Probably, Kyle thought, she’d been held up at work with some emergency. He sent her a quick text telling her he was on his way home but got no reply. He hopped into an Uber and in an hour he was walking up to his front door.
The lights were on in the lounge, but Lisa wasn’t there. He made his way to the kitchen and stopped in the doorway, stunned. Resting on top of the kitchen table was a bassinet, and Kyle could see a small arm waving aimlessly.
He took a step closer. There was a bassinet with a baby on his kitchen table! The child was looking back at Kyle with that astonished look babies have, and Kyle stared back just as astonished.
Then he saw a folded paper on the table next to the bassinet. He picked it up and unfolded it. Inside was another sheet of paper with a message in a handwriting he didn’t recognize: “You had your fun, now take responsibility for your child.”
Meanwhile, the note addressed to him in Lisa’s elegant script read:
For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash
“Kyle, yesterday I found this child on our doorstep with that note attached. I always suspected you cheated on me during your business trips, but I didn’t hold a grudge on you for that — after all, I had plenty of flings while you were away — but saddling me with someone else’s child is too much. I’ve filed for a divorce, and I earnestly hope I will never see you again.
“P.S. And about the baby, don’t worry, I only left when I saw you walk up the drive. Enjoy your life, Kyle, I certainly intend to enjoy mine.”
Kyle sat down and dropped his head in his hands. He couldn’t believe this was happening to him. This child wasn’t his, he’d never cheated on Lisa, ever! A soft cooing sound made him raise his head.
The baby was waving its little hand in the air, so Kyle brought his own hand closer and to his surprise, the child grabbed onto his index finger with incredible strength.
“Well, baby,” Kyle said. “I guess it’s just us two, and I don’t know what to do with you!”
The baby cooed again and gurgled, then screwed up his face in an alarming way and turned bright red. “Oh my God!” cried Kyle. “What’s happening?” A certain smell quickly elucidated him.
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Yep, it was diaper time. But was there even a diaper? On the floor next to the table was a large backpack with several snap pockets that he’d never seen before. Kyle found a bewildering array of items inside and the diapers.
He quickly googled diaper change and watched carefully as a woman on YouTube demonstrated on a life-like doll how to change a diaper.
Kyle started following her instructions but things didn’t run that smoothly. The woman’s life-like doll didn’t move its legs, or sink its kicking heels in the stinking and unmentionable contents of the dirty diaper! After wiping the baby clean, Kyle realized it was a girl, and he didn’t know anything about girls!
“I won’t be giving you dating advice,” he told the baby solemnly. “But I can teach you how to ride a bike.”
Kyle realized in that moment that he intended to keep this baby.
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He picked up the freshly diapered baby and said, “You need me, and I guess I need you too. So how about it, kid?”
Kyle once again consulted the YouTube baby-guru to prepare the formula and settled the baby in the crook of his arm for her feed.
“You need a name, you know that? How about… Celeste? Do you like that? Or Lily…”
If anyone had told Kyle that he would settle into fatherhood so easily and so smoothly he would never have believed it. Lily had her moments and her tantrums, but somehow things worked out.
Kyle registered Lily as his child and enrolled her in daycare. For him, her birthday was on the day he’d found her. But it was on Lily’s second birthday that Kyle’s world fell apart.
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A woman knocked on her door. “I’ve come for my baby,” she said. Kyle just looked at her. She was tall, blonde, and thin, with huge breasts that were obviously a product of a plastic surgeon’s art.
“Your what?” Kyle asked.
A real parent is the one who loves and cherishes the child.
“My baby,” she snapped. “I left her here two years ago? Sorry about that, but I was a bit stoned and my boyfriend lives on the next block over and I got confused. You know how it is!”
“Sorry, I don’t know how that is because I’ve never abandoned a child on anyone’s doorstep,” Kyle said coldly. “I’d get a move on if I were you, or I’ll call the police.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash
“Now look here,” the woman said sharply. “I figured I made a mistake about a week later when Burt didn’t take my calls, but now I need that baby!”
“You need her?” asked Kyle angrily. “What do you need her for?”
“Burt just got himself a Major League contract,” the woman said. “And that baby’s gone make sure some of those millions land in my bank account!”
Kyle ran the woman off, but he had a feeling he hadn’t seen the last of her. He was right. A week later he was summoned to family court. A Miss Cherish Vegas was contesting his adoption of baby Lily.
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Suddenly, Kyle was showered with injunctions, was visited by Social Services at odd hours of the day or night, and his friends and co-workers were being questioned. Cherish really meant to get her hands on those millions!
Finally, the day of the hearing arrived. Kyle nervously handed over Lily to the social worker for the duration of the hearing and walked in. Cherish was there, of course, and a tall man with Lily’s blue eyes was on her side of the court. This could only be the famous Burt!
Cherish cried and sniveled and told the judge how much she loved and missed her baby, and how her wild college days (now long past and deeply regretted) had led her to place her in Kyle’s care.
The judge looked down at the papers in front of her. “By in his care, you mean on his porch, isn’t that right, Miss Vegas?” asked the judge.
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Cherish flushed red. “Well, I’m still her mama! No one can deny that!” she screamed.
The judge looked at Burt. “You sir, you are the father?”
Burt lumbered to his feet and said, “I guess I must be…”
The judge fixed him with a flinty eye. “Are you prepared and able to take on the parental responsibilities for this child?”
Cherish screamed, “You bet he is, judge, he just signed a three million dollar contract to play ball…”
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“Oh!” cried the judge. “Finally, the truth is out! Tell me, Miss Vegas, what name did you give your daughter?”
“Name?” asked Cherish, confused. “Why, she’ll have her daddy’s name., since he’ll be paying child support!”
Kyle stood up. “Your honor,” he said. “May I address the court?”
“Yes, Mr. Greenbecker,” said the judge. “Please do.”
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“Ma’am, my daughter’s name is Lily, and she does have her father’s name — mine. Since the moment that child came into my life I’ve loved her, and she loves me.”
At that moment, Lily, who had been playing with the social worker’s necklace noticed that Kyle was standing up. “Daddy!” she cried and stretched out her arms.
“Well, ladies and gentlemen, it seems to me that the case has been decided by the principal party,” the judge said. “I hereby overturn all claims of custody of the child Lily Grennbecker and confirm Kyle Greenbecker’s custody and adoption.
That night, Kyle celebrated his victory in court and he and Lily spent the evening catching lightning bugs in the garden. “Stars!” cried Lily. But for Kyle, the brightest star of all was his little girl.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash
What can we learn from this story?
- A real parent is one who loves and cherishes the child. Kyle took care of Lily and loved her as if she were his own.
- A heartless woman will use anyone, even her child, for profit. Cherish didn’t want Lily, she just wanted Burt’s money.
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I Didn’t Tell My Husband’s Family I Speak Their Language, and It Helped Me Uncover a Shocking Secret about My Child
I thought I knew everything about my husband—until I overheard a shocking conversation between his mother and sister. When Peter finally confessed the secret he’d been hiding about our first child, my world shattered, and I was left questioning everything we had built together.
Peter and I had been married for three years. We met during a whirlwind summer, and everything just clicked. He was smart, funny, and kind, everything I’d ever wanted. When we found out I was pregnant with our first child a few months later, it felt like fate.
A photo of a happy couple | Source: Pexels
Now, we were expecting our second baby, and our lives seem pretty perfect. But things haven’t been as smooth as they appear.
I’m American, and Peter’s German. At first, the differences between us were exciting. When Peter’s job transferred him back to Germany, we moved there with our first child. I thought it would be a fresh start, but it wasn’t as easy as I’d hoped.
A man packing boxes | Source: Pexels
Germany was beautiful, and Peter was thrilled to be back in his home country. But I struggled. I missed my family and friends. And Peter’s family, well, they were… polite at best. His parents, Ingrid and Klaus, didn’t speak much English, but I understood more German than they realized.
At first, I didn’t mind the language barrier. I thought it would give me time to learn more German and blend in. But then, the comments started.
A successful woman | Source: Pexels
Peter’s family came over often, especially Ingrid and Peter’s sister, Klara. They would sit in the living room, chatting away in German. I’d be in the kitchen or tending to our child, pretending not to notice when their conversation shifted toward me.
“That dress… it doesn’t suit her at all,” Ingrid once said, not bothering to lower her voice.
“She’s gained so much weight with this pregnancy,” Klara added with a smirk.
A smirking woman | Source: Pexels
I’d look down at my swelling belly, my hands automatically smoothing over the fabric. Yes, I was pregnant, and yes, I’d gained weight, but their words still stung. They acted like I couldn’t understand them, and I never let on that I could. I didn’t want to cause a scene, and deep down, I wanted to see how far they’d go.
One afternoon, I overheard something that cut even deeper.
Two gossiping women | Source: Pexels
“She looks tired,” Ingrid remarked, pouring tea as Klara nodded. “I wonder how she’ll manage two children.”
Klara leaned in, lowering her voice a little. “I’m still not sure about that first baby. He doesn’t even look like Peter.”
I froze, standing just out of sight. I felt my stomach drop. They were talking about our son.
Ingrid sighed. “His red hair… it’s not from our side of the family.”
Klara chuckled. “Maybe she didn’t tell Peter everything.”
A chuckling woman | Source: Pexels
They both laughed softly, and I stood there, too stunned to move. How could they say that? I wanted to scream at them, tell them they were wrong, but I stayed quiet, my hands trembling. I didn’t know what to do.
The next visit after our second baby was born was the hardest. I was exhausted, trying to manage a newborn and our toddler. Ingrid and Klara arrived, offering smiles and congratulations, but I could tell something was off. They whispered to each other when they thought I wasn’t looking, and the tension in the air was thick.
Two women gossiping | Source: Pexels
As I sat feeding the baby in the other room, I heard them talking in hushed voices. I leaned closer to the door, listening.
“She still doesn’t know, does she?” Ingrid whispered.
Klara laughed softly. “Of course not. Peter never told her the truth about the first baby.”
My heart skipped a beat. The truth? About our first baby? What were they talking about?
A shocked woman | Source: Midjourney
I felt my pulse quicken, and a cold wave of fear washed over me. I knew I shouldn’t listen, but I couldn’t help it. What could they mean? I needed to know more, but their voices faded as they moved to another room. I sat there, frozen, my mind racing.
What had Peter not told me? And what was this “truth” about our first child?
A thoughtful woman in her living room | Source: Midjourney
I stood up, my legs shaky, and called Peter into the kitchen. He came in, looking confused. I could barely keep my voice steady.
“Peter,” I whispered, “what is this about our first baby? What haven’t you told me?”
His face turned pale, his eyes widening in panic. For a moment, he didn’t say anything. Then, he sighed heavily and sat down, burying his face in his hands.
A tired man in his kitchen | Source: Pexels
“There’s something you don’t know,” Peter looked up at me, guilt written all over his face. He opened his mouth to speak, but hesitated, his eyes darting to the floor. “When you gave birth to our first…” He paused, taking a deep breath. “My family… they pressured me to get a paternity test.”
I stared at him, trying to process what he had just said. “A paternity test?” I repeated slowly, as if saying it out loud would help me understand. “Why? Why would they—?”
A shocked woman in her kitchen | Source: Midjourney
“They thought… the timing was too close to when you ended your last relationship,” he said, his voice breaking. “And the red hair… They said the baby couldn’t be mine.”
I blinked, my head spinning. “So you took a test? Behind my back?”
Peter stood up, his hands shaking. “It wasn’t because I didn’t trust you! I never doubted you,” he said quickly. “But my family wouldn’t let it go. They were convinced something wasn’t right. They kept pushing me. I didn’t know how to make it stop.”
A shocked man looking up | Source: Pexels
“And what did the test say, Peter?” I asked, my voice rising. “What did it say?”
He swallowed hard, his eyes filled with regret. “It said… it said I wasn’t the father.”
The room felt like it was closing in on me. “What?” I whispered, struggling to breathe. “I never cheated on you! How could that—”
An upset woman in her kitchen | Source: Midjourney
Peter stepped closer, desperate to explain. “It didn’t make sense to me, either. I know the baby is mine in every way that matters. But the test… it came back negative. My family didn’t believe me when I told them it was positive. I had to confess.”
I pulled away from him, my whole body shaking. “And you’ve believed it, too? For years? And you didn’t tell me? It has to be wrong!” I cried, feeling like the ground had disappeared beneath my feet. “We have to get another test! We have to—”
A heartbroken woman at her table | Source: Midjourney
Peter’s face crumpled as he reached for my hands, but I pulled them back. “How come you don’t see it?” he said, looking deep into my eyes. “The timing… We started dating so soon after you broke up with your ex. You must’ve fallen pregnant without even realizing it. The test didn’t change how I felt about you or our son. I didn’t care if he was mine. I wanted to be with you, so I accepted him readily.”
A sad man on the kitchen floor | Source: Pexels
I shook my head, tears streaming down my face. “You should’ve trusted me,” I said, my voice trembling. “I never even suspected that he wasn’t yours. Why would I? We’ve been raising him together. You’ve been his father. We could’ve handled this together, Peter, but instead, you lied to me. You kept this secret while I was living in the dark.”
“I know,” Peter whispered, his eyes filled with regret. “I was scared. But I wanted a family with you more than anything. My parents wouldn’t let it go, but I didn’t want you to think I doubted you. I never doubted you.”
A regretful man | Source: Midjourney
I took a step back, feeling like I couldn’t breathe. “I need some air.”
Peter reached out, but I turned away, walking out of the kitchen and into the cool night. The air hit my face, but it did nothing to calm the storm inside me. How could he have done this? I thought about our son, how Peter had held him when he was born, how he’d loved him. None of that made sense with what he just told me. I felt betrayed, lost.
A crying woman | Source: Pexels
For a few minutes, I stood there, staring at the stars, trying to piece it all together. As much as I wanted to scream, to cry, I also knew Peter wasn’t a bad person. He was scared. His family had pushed him into this, and he’d made a terrible mistake by hiding it from me. But he’d still stayed by my side, by our son’s side, all these years. He had lied, but not out of cruelty.
A woman on her porch | Source: Midjourney
I wiped the tears from my eyes and took a deep breath. I had to go back inside. We couldn’t leave things like this. Not with our family on the line.
When I walked back into the kitchen, Peter was sitting at the table, his face buried in his hands again. He looked up when he heard me, his eyes red and swollen.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry.”
A sad man sitting at the table | Source: Pexels
I took a deep breath and nodded. It would take time for me to fully heal from this, but I knew we couldn’t throw away everything we’d built. We had a family, and despite all of this, I still loved him.
“We’ll figure it out,” I whispered. “Together.”
If you liked this story, consider reading this one: When my husband said our daughter wasn’t “European” enough, I knew I had to act. I devised a plan to teach him a lesson, but as I watched his world crumble, I wondered if I’d gone too far.
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
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