Chapter 1

1

My wife, Sarah, just couldn't get pregnant. We decided to try IVF.

Before the embryos were even made, I caught her switching my sperm with her high school sweetheart's sample.

I didn't say a word. Just switched it back.

And then, just for good measure, I swapped out Sarah's eggs with my ex-girlfriend, Jennifer's.

Twenty-five years later, Sarah's old flame showed up at my door, trying to claim my son:

"Dustin, I'm your real dad!"

...

Dustin and I got home from a medical research trip to Europe, and I was floored.

A whole crowd of people, relatives I hadn't seen in years, were crammed into our living room.

You'd think the Johnson family was holding a reunion.

What really made my blood boil was seeing Sarah sitting on the couch, her arm around some red-eyed dude.

My "loving" wife, always off doing her own thing, was whispering sweet nothings to him.

I raised an eyebrow, dropped my suitcase, and looked at Sarah.

"What's the occasion? Looks like a party."

Dustin, behind me, crossed his arms, giving the guy a disgusted look.

He already had a hunch about who this guy was.

Sarah's mom, Grandma Betty, sat in her favorite chair, looking uncomfortable, like she wanted to say something but couldn't.

Before Sarah could even open her mouth, the guy started sobbing and lunged at Dustin.

"My boy! I'm your real father!"

Dustin dodged him like he was a hot potato, his face twisted in disgust.

He took a step back, his voice icy: "My dad's name is Michael Johnson."

That's my boy, always has my back.

I squeezed Dustin's hand, gave him a reassuring look, and then swung, connecting my fist with the guy's jaw.

The sound echoed in the room.

"Don't go making stuff up," I said, my voice cold, my eyes like daggers.

Sarah jumped up, cradling the guy's face. "Michael, are you crazy? You can't just hit Mark!"

She raised her hand like she was going to hit me.

Dustin was faster. He stepped forward and slapped Sarah across the face.

"You think you can hit my dad?" Dustin's voice wasn't loud, but it was full of steel.

Sarah froze, shocked and furious. She raised her hand again, ready to strike Dustin.

But Mark grabbed her arm, fake-crying.

"Sarah, please, don't! That's our son!"

The way he was acting, I could've puked.

Sarah lowered her hand, glaring at Dustin.

"I'm only holding back because of your real dad."

Dustin sneered. "Yeah? I'd like to see you try."

His glare was exactly like mine when I was younger.

Inside, I was doing a happy dance. That's my boy!