My grandpa, a few years ago, got very sick and believed he would die. He called my dad to his side to tell him he had a secret he felt his children should know: the oldest brother in the family of five kids was actually not his son. My grandma was in early pregnancy from an affair with a Spanish artist when he met her. He fell in love, and they agreed to raise the oldest son as his without anyone ever knowing.
Spoiler: my grandpa did not die, and my grandma still didn't want anyone to know and was furious at him for telling. She refused to ever discuss it, and their relationship was contentious for the last few years of their lives. But my uncle was happy to know the truth. His father was dead already, but he managed to learn a bit about him and his art, and the general feeling in the family was that my grandpa did right.
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