Chương 5
"You know what I mean."
"Yes."
She breathed out.
"I had been taking the medication for weeks."
"That doesn't mean you had to continue."
"No."
"Then why?"
She stared ahead.
"Because I was thirty-nine."
"Alina."
"Because we had spent years trying."
"That still doesn't explain doing it after your husband moved out."
"You want the flattering answer or the true one?"
"The true one."
"I was angry."
I had not expected that.
She continued before I could respond.
"I was furious with you."
"For leaving?"
"For deciding everything."
"I didn't decide everything."
"You decided the marriage was over."
"We both knew it was."
"No."
She shook her head.
"You knew you were done."
"There's a difference?"
"Yes."
Her voice stayed quiet now.
"I thought we were in trouble."
"You called it unbearable."
"It was unbearable."
"You said you couldn't keep living that way."
"I couldn't."
"Then what was I supposed to hear?"
"That something had to change."
"I changed it."
"You left."
I looked away.
She let the silence remain for a few seconds.
"When you left, I kept thinking about those embryos sitting in storage."
"Two."
"Two."
"And you decided to use one out of anger."
"No."
She rubbed one hand over the curve of her stomach.
"I decided not to let you make that decision for me too."
"They were ours."
"I know."
"Not yours."
"I know."
Her answer came sharper.
"That is why I called you."
"You didn't tell me why."
"I was scared."
"So you went ahead anyway."
"Yes."
The admission stayed between us.
No excuse.
No polished defense.
Just yes.
I looked at her profile and felt two contradictory things so strongly that neither could push the other aside.
I was furious.
I also understood.
That was worse.
"So if the transfer had worked," I said, "you were going to have our child while divorcing me."
"I didn't know if we were getting divorced yet."
"I had filed."
"You hadn't served me."
"My lawyer was preparing it."
"I didn't know that."
I stopped.
The knowledge ledger between us had been completely different.
While I had been meeting Dana in her office and initialing drafts, Alina had been injecting hormones into her stomach and waiting for a phone call I had no idea existed.
"When did you find out you were pregnant?"
"March twenty-second."
"After the transfer."
"Yes."
"And you thought it was the embryo."
"At first."
"What changed?"
"The dates."
"What about them?"
"The numbers were higher than expected."
"Numbers?"
"HCG."
I nodded vaguely.
"The doctor said it could mean several things."
"Twins?"
"That was one possibility."
I looked at her stomach again.
"But there's one baby."
"Yes."
"Then?"
"They dated the pregnancy at the first ultrasound."
"And?"
"It measured further along than it should have from the transfer."
My chest tightened.
"February seventeenth."
"That became the likely explanation."
"Meaning you knew months ago that this baby was probably conceived that night."
"Yes."
"And still you said nothing."
Her eyes closed.
"Yes."
The anger returned, but it arrived differently this time.
Less explosive.
Heavier.
"Why?"
She looked at me.
May you like
"Because three days after that ultrasound, I was served divorce papers."
For a moment I could not decide whether her answer made me angrier or ashamed."You thought the papers were my response to the pregnancy.""I thought they were your response to me.""You hadn't told me.""I know that now.""You knew it then.""No, Marcus, I knew I hadn't managed to tell you."Her voice cracked on managed, and she looked annoyed with herself for letting it happen."I kept thinking there would be a better moment.""A better moment than finding out you're pregnant with possibly our child?""A moment when you might actually listen."I almost answered too quickly, which was usually how our worst arguments began.Instead I looked down at the courthouse floor and noticed a brown stain near my shoe shaped vaguely like Florida.Somebody had dropped coffee there and wiped it badly."I would have listened."Alina gave me a tired look."Would you?""Yes.""You wouldn't answer your phone.""That wasn't the same thing.""You sent everything through Dana.""Because we couldn't talk without fighting.""And you think pregnancy would have improved our communication?""No.""Then don't rewrite yourself because you're shocked."The words stung because she was right enough to make denial embarrassing.I sat beside her again.This time the space between us was smaller, though neither of us acknowledged it."What happened after you were served?""I threw up.""From morning sickness?""From you."Despite everything, a laugh escaped me.It was one breath and nothing more.Alina's mouth twitched."I mean, possibly morning sickness.""Good clarification.""I try to be medically accurate now."There was the woman I had been married to.Dry humor at the worst possible time.For years I had loved that about her.Then, during the last year of our marriage, I had started hearing sarcasm where there was only exhaustion.She folded the tissue one final time and tucked it into her coat pocket."I called my lawyer that afternoon.""To fight the divorce?""At first.""And then?""She asked what outcome I wanted."I waited."I couldn't answer her."That sounded more honest than anything else she could have said."So you stopped fighting.""I stopped trying to stop the divorce.""That's different?""Very."I rubbed my palms against my trousers."Why?""Because I was tired of making the case for why you should stay.""I never asked you to make a case.""You didn't have to.""Alina.""You had already reached a verdict."The courthouse metaphor was obvious, and I nearly made a joke about it.I didn't.A custodian pushed a yellow mop bucket past us and smiled politely.We both moved our feet at the same time.The normality of that tiny coordination made my chest ache."When did the clinic contact you about the records?""Six weeks ago.""Did they say what caused the problem?""They wouldn't say much on the first call.""Did you go in?""The next morning.""Alone?"She hesitated again.I felt my shoulders stiffen."Who went with you?""Daniel."The name meant nothing for half a second.Then it did."Daniel Mercer?""Yes."I stood.Alina sighed."Don't.""Your coworker Daniel?""Former coworker.""The guy from your hospital administration office?""He transferred to another system last year.""He went with you.""Yes.""To the fertility clinic.""Yes."The anger I had been trying to manage found something simple enough to grab."Why him?""Because he knew.""Knew what?""That I was pregnant.""How?""He saw me throw up in a conference room.""Romantic."Her eyes narrowed."Do not do that.""What am I doing?""You know exactly what you're doing.""No, actually, I don't know anything, Alina.""Daniel is my friend.""Daniel has been waiting for our marriage to end since approximately the invention of fire."She stared at me."That's ridiculous.""He hated me.""He thought you were rude.""He thought breathing was rude when I did it.""Maybe because you treated him like he was trying to sleep with me every time he said hello.""Was he?""No.""Is he now?""Marcus.""That's a fair question.""No, it's a jealous question.""You're my wife.""You're divorcing me."The words stopped both of us.A few feet away, Dana stepped out of the hearing room.She was in her early fifties, always perfectly composed, with silver-blond hair and the unnerving ability to look sympathetic while billing in six-minute increments.She took in Alina's stomach, my face, and the abandoned posture of two people clearly not ready to discuss property division."I've spoken with Ms. Patel," she said.Alina's attorney."We can request thirty days.""Do it," I said.Dana looked at me carefully."Are you certain?""Yes.""Marcus," Alina said.I turned toward her."What?""Thirty days may not be enough."Dana's eyes moved between us again.She did not ask the obvious question.She was too experienced for that."How much time do you anticipate needing?"Alina looked at the floor."I don't know."Dana waited.When neither of us explained, she nodded."I'll request sixty.""Can we do that?""We can request it.""Will the judge grant it?""Probably."The word probably again.I was beginning to hate it.Dana shifted her folder beneath one arm."Do either of you need to tell me something before I go back in there?"Alina and I looked at each other.There are moments in a marriage when an entire conversation happens without words.Most of ours had become hostile over the years.This one was simply frightened."She's pregnant," I said.Dana's expression did not change."I can see that.""The paternity may affect the divorce."That changed it.Barely.Her chin lifted perhaps half an inch."May?""We don't know yet."Dana glanced toward the courtroom door."Is there a legal parentage dispute?""No," Alina said quickly."We don't know," I said at the same time.Alina turned on me."I am not disputing anything.""You just spent twenty minutes explaining that nobody knows whose child you're carrying.""That's not the same as me disputing parentage."Dana raised one hand."Stop."We did.It was irritating how easily."Do not litigate this in the hallway," she said.She lowered her voice."Especially not loudly."I glanced around.The woman with the phone had left.A man in a gray sweater was pretending to read a notice board.Dana continued."If there is uncertainty regarding biological parentage, I need facts before I advise you.""There was a fertility clinic error," Alina said.Dana's attention sharpened."What kind?""We don't know yet.""Which clinic?"Alina named it.Dana's expression changed in a way I did not like."You know it?""I know of it.""Why?"She chose her words carefully."They had a regulatory investigation several years ago involving record retention."My stomach tightened."Embryos?""I don't know.""Can you find out?""Yes."Alina stepped closer."Please don't turn this into something before we know what happened."Dana looked at her."If there is a possibility that reproductive material was mishandled, it is already something.""I mean legally.""Those aren't separate."Alina closed her eyes.I felt a sudden, irrational desire to protect her from Dana, despite having paid Dana thousands of dollars specifically to protect me from Alina."Can we just get the continuance today?"I asked.Dana looked at me."Yes.""Then do that."She nodded."I'll ask for sixty days based on newly discovered family circumstances.""No details?""Not unless the judge requires them.""Thank you."Dana started toward the door, then paused."Marcus.""Yeah?""Do not sign anything from the clinic.""I haven't.""Do not make recorded statements.""Okay.""And do not post about this."I almost laughed."I don't post about anything.""Good."She looked at Alina."Same advice.""I understand."Dana went back inside.For the first time since seeing Alina, I felt something beyond our marriage pressing into the problem.Lawyers.Records.A clinic.Possibly other families.The thought made my skin cold."How many embryos were involved?"I asked."I don't know.""The clinic didn't tell you?""They said the review covered multiple patients.""How many?""They wouldn't say.""And Daniel was there when they told you?""Yes.""Why Daniel?"She rubbed her forehead."Because my sister couldn't come.""You could have called me.""I know.""Would you have?"Her hand dropped."What?""If your sister had been available, would you have called me afterward?"She looked away.That was answer enough.I sat down again."You were never going to tell me before today, were you?""I was.""When?""I don't know.""That's not a plan.""I know.""Was the baby going to arrive before you found the right moment?"She flinched.I hated myself again and kept going."Would I have gotten a birth announcement?""Stop.""Would your lawyer have sent it to Dana?""Stop.""Maybe certified mail?""Marcus."She grabbed my wrist.Her fingers were cold."Stop."I did.Not because she was hurting me.Because she was shaking.The anger fell out of me.I looked at her hand around my wrist.After a second, she released me."I'm scared," she said.There was no drama in it.No tears.Just four quiet letters arranged into the most human thing she had said all morning.I swallowed."Of what?""All of it.""The baby?""The clinic."She sat down."The test."Her voice dropped."The possibility that I have been talking to this baby for seven months and I don't know who his parents are."His.I stared at her."You said his."Alina went still."You didn't know?""No."She pressed her lips together."It's a boy."Everything inside me seemed to reorganize around that sentence.A boy.Not a pregnancy.Not fetal DNA.Not a disputed timeline.A boy.I looked at her stomach, and this time when something shifted beneath the fabric, I did not look away."Does he do that a lot?""Move?""Yeah.""Usually after I eat.""What did you eat?""A blueberry muffin downstairs."I nodded as though this were medically significant."He likes blueberry muffins?""Apparently.""That's unfortunate."She glanced at me."Why?""They're the inferior muffin."For half a second she looked offended.Then she laughed.It was quiet and surprised and completely wrong for the place and circumstances.I laughed too.The sound lasted perhaps three seconds.Then it ended, and the terrible facts remained.But something between us had changed.Not repaired.Nothing that easy.Only shifted.I sat beside my pregnant wife in the courthouse where we had expected to end our marriage and watched her hand rest over the place where our son might be moving.Might.The word returned."You said the clinic offered independent testing.""Yes.""Who chose the lab?""They gave me three options.""Did you pick one?""Daniel helped me research them."His name irritated me less this time, though not by much."Which one?"She told me.I took out my phone and typed it into a note."What are you doing?""I want copies of everything.""Marcus.""Every report.""I have them.""All of them?""Everything they've given me.""Emails too?""Yes.""Can I see them?"She studied me.For the first time all morning, I saw distrust replace anger.It hurt more."Why?""Because if this child is mine, I need to know what happened.""And if he isn't?"The question settled between us.I opened my mouth.Nothing came out.Alina watched me.There were easy answers available.Decent answers.The kind of answers a good man would give immediately.I could have said it wouldn't matter.I could have said I would stand by her.I could have said fourteen years meant more than genetics.But I did not know if any of those things were true yet."I don't know," I said.Her face tightened.I almost took it back.Then she nodded."Okay.""That's not me saying I would walk away.""I know.""I just don't know.""I know."The courtroom door opened before either of us could say more.Dana came out first, followed by Alina's attorney, Priya Patel, a small woman with black-framed glasses and an expression that suggested she had already identified twelve problems nobody else had noticed."We have sixty days," Dana said.Alina exhaled.Priya looked at her."And we need to talk.""Today?""Today."Dana looked at me."So do we."I glanced at Alina."What about the clinic records?"Priya answered before she could."I'd like both of you to preserve everything you have.""You know?""Alina told me enough while we were waiting."Dana's face tightened slightly."Then counsel should coordinate."Priya nodded."Agreed."It was strange watching our divorce lawyers become cooperative because something worse had arrived.Dana handed me a business card even though her number had been in my phone for eight months."Come to my office at two.""I have work.""Cancel it.""I can't just cancel."She looked at me."This is one of the days when you can."I almost argued.Then my phone buzzed in my hand.A message from my supervisor asked whether court was done and whether I would make the afternoon project meeting.Before I could answer, Alina suddenly sucked in a breath.Her hand clamped around the edge of the bench.I turned toward her."What?"She did not answer.Her face had gone pale."Alina?"Priya stepped forward."Are you dizzy?""No."Alina pressed both hands against her stomach."He's moving."I stared at her."Is that bad?""No."She breathed out slowly."He's just kicking hard."Then, without looking at me, she reached for my hand.For one confused second I thought she wanted help standing.Instead she placed my palm against the right side of her belly.I froze.Nothing happened.Then something struck gently beneath my hand.Not gently to me.To me it felt enormous.A small living force pushed outward and vanished.My fingers spread instinctively.There it was again.I forgot Dana.I forgot Priya.I forgot Daniel Mercer, the divorce papers, the clinic, the forms, and every angry thing I had rehearsed that morning.Alina watched my face."That's him," she said.I could not speak.The baby kicked a third time beneath my palm.And for the first time since she had said probably, I became afraid not that he might be mine, but that he might not be.
