Chapter 2 - The Child in Chloe’s Arms
Marcus demanded security.
Chloe demanded a lawyer.
I demanded nothing.
I stood beside Dr. Thorne and watched both of them collapse beneath the weight of a truth they had apparently spent more than a year hiding.
Hospital security arrived first.
Two officers stepped into the corridor after a nurse reported the shouting.
Marcus immediately transformed.
I had seen that transformation hundreds of times.
His shoulders lowered.
His voice softened.
His expression became wounded rather than angry.
He became the reasonable man.
The respectable philanthropist.
The victim of everyone else’s hysteria.
“There’s been a misunderstanding.”
He gestured toward me.
“My ex-wife is emotionally distressed.”
There it was.
The old script.
The same one he had used during the divorce.
The same one he had used with the shelter board.
The same one he had used when mutual friends asked why I had stopped attending dinners.
I opened my mouth.
Dr. Thorne beat me to it.
“There is no misunderstanding.”
The security officer recognized him.
“Dr. Thorne?”
“Yes.”
“Do you need assistance?”
“I need everyone here kept physically separated until the hospital administrator arrives.”
Marcus gave him a cold smile.
“You don’t have the authority to detain us.”
“No.”
Dr. Thorne glanced toward the infant.
“But the child was admitted through pediatric urgent care today.”
My head turned.
I had not known why Marcus and Chloe were at Crestview.
Chloe hugged the baby closer.
“He has a fever.”
Dr. Thorne nodded.
“Which means his medical care currently depends on accurate family history.”
Marcus scoffed.
“He has a virus.”
“Perhaps.”
Dr. Thorne’s eyes sharpened.
“But his chart lists Chloe as his biological mother and Marcus as his biological father.”
Neither answered.
“And if either statement is knowingly false, his physicians may be working with inaccurate genetic information.”
The security officer’s posture changed.
This was no longer just an ugly argument between former spouses.
The baby’s health had made the truth relevant.
Chloe looked at me.
For a moment, I almost saw the woman who had once sat beside me on my kitchen floor after my second failed IVF cycle.
She had held my hand.
She had cried with me.
She had promised I would become a mother somehow.
Now she was holding a child created from one of my embryos.
I did not know whether I wanted to scream or vomit.
The hospital administrator arrived ten minutes later.
So did Marcus’s attorney.
Of course he did.
Grant Holloway had handled our divorce.
He was smooth, silver-haired, and expensive enough that Marcus once joked he charged by the breath.
Grant took one look at me and sighed.
“Elena.”
“Grant.”
“I thought we finished hurting each other a year ago.”
I almost admired the audacity.
“Ask your client.”
Grant glanced at Marcus.
Marcus pulled him aside.
They whispered intensely.
Chloe stood alone several feet away.
No attorney arrived for her.
That did not surprise me.
Marcus had always paid for loyalty until the moment loyalty became inconvenient.
Then he treated people like disposable napkins.
Chloe began to understand that.
I watched the realization arrive slowly.
Grant eventually approached Dr. Thorne.
“My client will not consent to genetic testing.”
Dr. Thorne closed the folder.
“That is not my decision.”
Grant looked toward me.
“You filed an emergency petition?”
“My attorney did.”
“On what grounds?”
“Potential embryo theft.”
Several nurses nearby stopped pretending not to listen.
Grant’s composure cracked for half a second.
Then he recovered.
“That is an inflammatory accusation.”
“It is a description of the records.”
“The records could be wrong.”
“They could.”
I nodded.
“That’s why I asked the court to preserve them.”
Marcus stepped forward.
“You’re trying to steal my child because you couldn’t have one.”
The cruelty of the statement was so familiar that I almost felt nothing.
Almost.
Before I could answer, Chloe spoke.
“Stop saying that.”
Marcus turned.
She was crying again.
Quietly.
“Stop saying she couldn’t have children.”
His face went still.
Grant looked at Chloe sharply.
“Mrs. Mercer, I strongly suggest you stop talking.”
Chloe gave a tiny laugh.
“I’m not Mrs. Mercer.”
Marcus’s eyes hardened.
“No.”
She looked down at the baby.
“You never married me.”
That seemed unimportant compared with everything else.
Yet I suddenly understood why she said it.
Chloe had destroyed a twenty-year friendship for Marcus.
She had helped him destroy my reputation.
She had carried what she believed was his child.
She had moved into my house.
Worn my jewelry.
Sat on the charity boards where I once sat.
And he had never married her.
“You said we would.”
Marcus’s voice dropped.
“Not now.”
“When?”
“Chloe.”
“You said once the divorce was final.”
Grant stepped between them.
“This conversation needs to end.”
Chloe stared at Marcus.
Then she looked at me.
“You want to know what happened?”
Marcus moved so fast the security officer stepped forward.
“Chloe.”
She flinched.
That flinch told me more about their relationship than I wanted to know.
“You want to know?”
She asked me again.
“Yes.”
Marcus shook his head.
“No.”
Chloe laughed bitterly.
“You don’t get to decide anymore.”
Grant touched her arm.
“I recommend that you obtain independent counsel before saying anything.”
She pulled away.
“You mean before I say anything that hurts him.”
Grant did not answer.
Chloe looked at me.
“After your fourth cycle failed, Marcus came to me.”
My stomach tightened.
“He said you had stopped wanting him.”
“That was a lie.”
“I know that now.”
“You knew it then.”
She looked ashamed.
“I knew some of it.”
I said nothing.
“He told me your marriage existed only because you were obsessed with having a baby.”
Marcus cursed softly.
“He said you blamed him every time IVF failed.”
“I never blamed him.”
“I know.”
“You were there.”
“I know.”
“You watched me apologize to him.”
“I know.”
Every repetition cut deeper.
Chloe began rocking the baby again.
“He told me he wanted a child more than anything.”
Marcus stepped toward her.
“Enough.”
Security moved between them.
Chloe continued.
“He said donor conception might be his only option.”
Dr. Thorne frowned.
“Donor conception?”
She nodded.
“He told me his sperm could be used if the egg came from a donor.”
I looked at Dr. Thorne.
He understood what I was asking.
“That would not correspond with his actual diagnosis.”
Chloe closed her eyes.
“I didn’t know that.”
Marcus laughed.
“You knew exactly what you were doing.”
She stared at him.
“You told me Elena had signed over unused embryos.”
The world stopped again.
“What?”
I asked.
Chloe looked directly at me.
“He showed me paperwork.”
I swallowed.
“What paperwork?”
“A consent.”
“Consent for what?”
“Embryo donation.”
I could barely form the words.
“To you?”
She nodded.
Marcus stepped forward again.
“That’s a lie.”
Chloe swung around.
“You brought the forms to my apartment.”
“You’re insane.”
“You said Elena wanted nothing to do with the embryos because the divorce was coming.”
My knees nearly gave way.
The divorce was coming.
Eleven months before I knew about it.
Marcus had been planning my removal long before handing me papers.
Chloe’s voice shook.
“You told me the clinic had two embryos that technically belonged to both of you.”
“They did.”
“You said Elena signed them over.”
“She did.”
I snapped my gaze toward him.
“No.”
His expression did not change.
“You signed dozens of forms.”
“Not that one.”
“You don’t remember.”
“I remember every form I signed because I read every word.”
Marcus smiled.
“That isn’t how I remember it.”
Dr. Thorne interrupted.
“The signature on the transfer authorization differs significantly from Elena’s authenticated medical signatures.”
Marcus shrugged.
“People sign differently.”
Grant rubbed his forehead.
For the first time, Marcus’s own attorney looked tired of him.
Chloe started crying harder.
“I thought the embryo came from an anonymous donor.”
“You just said he told you Elena signed it over.”
I asked.
“He told me that later.”
“When?”
“When I was already pregnant.”
I stared at her.
“What did you think they implanted?”
“A donor egg fertilized with Marcus’s sperm.”
Dr. Thorne’s eyebrows lifted.
“Did the clinic counsel you?”
“Yes.”
“Which clinic?”
“Westbridge Reproductive Center.”
He became very still.
“What physician?”
“Dr. Philip Keller.”
I saw something change in Dr. Thorne’s face.
“You know him.”
“He previously worked at Crestview.”
Marcus turned away.
That movement was enough.
I saw it.
Dr. Thorne saw it.
Grant definitely saw it.
“When did he leave?”
I asked.
Dr. Thorne answered carefully.
“Three years ago.”
“Why?”
“I cannot discuss another physician’s confidential employment record.”
“Was he involved in my treatment?”
Dr. Thorne did not answer immediately.
Then he said, “Yes.”
Chloe covered her mouth.
Marcus whispered, “Damn it.”
I looked at him.
“You remember him.”
Marcus stared toward the windows.
“You worked with him.”
Nothing.
“Marcus.”
Grant spoke sharply.
“Do not answer.”
That was answer enough.
The baby suddenly cried out.
Chloe looked down in alarm.
His cheeks had flushed.
A nurse hurried over.
“He’s warmer.”
Chloe’s panic instantly shifted from herself to the child.
“Is his fever worse?”
“We need to check.”
The nurse reached for him.
Chloe hesitated.
Then handed him over.
Watching the baby leave Chloe’s arms hurt in a way I could not explain.
I had no right to feel maternal toward him yet.
Not legally.
Not emotionally.
Perhaps not even biologically.
But the possibility had changed something inside me.
As the nurse carried him into an examination room, his tiny hand opened over her shoulder.
My chest tightened.
Marcus watched him too.
For one brief moment, the hostility disappeared from his face.
He looked scared.
Then the door closed.
Dr. Thorne turned toward me.
“Elena, I need to tell you something else.”
“What now?”
“The records from Westbridge include the embryo identification number.”
“You told me.”
“Yes.”
His voice became quieter.
“But after Chloe identified Dr. Keller, I remembered something.”
He opened the folder.
“There is a second number connected to your missing embryos.”
I stared at him.
“What second number?”
“A cryostorage transfer number.”
Marcus’s head snapped around.
Dr. Thorne looked at him.
“One embryo was transferred to Westbridge.”
My pulse accelerated.
“One?”
Dr. Thorne nodded.
“The second was transferred somewhere else.”
Chloe looked confused.
“I only had one procedure.”
Dr. Thorne turned toward me.
“The second embryo was never implanted in Chloe.”
I felt cold spread through me.
“Then where is it?”
He looked down at the paper.
“That is what I intend to find out.”
Marcus suddenly reached for his phone.
Grant stopped him.
“What are you doing?”
“I need to make a call.”
“To whom?”
“None of your business.”
Grant lowered his voice.
“It became my business when you hired me.”
Marcus jerked his arm free.
I watched him dial.
He moved several steps away.
His voice was too low for me to hear.
But I saw his mouth form a name.
Keller.
Then Marcus looked straight at me.
And for the first time since our divorce, I saw something far more dangerous than arrogance in his face.
May you like
I saw desperation.
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