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Carys
I stare into my arms at the baby wrapped in a pale blue blanket. He has dark hair, and his eyes are closed in sleep. His fingers have the tiniest nails, and I want to touch every one, count them, savor this moment. I’m so absorbed in the sight of a baby, it takes me a second to process Eric’s words.
“What?” I glance up, a little dazed.
“Our son.” Eric gives me an encouraging nod. “You weren’t here for the birth, but I know you always wanted to name our boy Lucas after your brother.”
I laugh self-consciously and shift the baby to hand him to Eric. “This isn’t my baby.” When I try to pass the bundle, he steps out of reach. “He can’t be my baby. It’s impossible.”
“Not impossible,” my father whispers. “You were searching for a surrogate when you two split.”
“Exactly,” I agree. “Eric and I broke up, and we destroyed the embryos. I signed paperwork to have them destroyed.”
My father grimaces.
Eric shifts his feet. “This isn’t the reaction I was expecting.”
“I signed papers to have the embryos destroyed.” I repeat the words, this time louder, hoping they’ll stick in someone’s brain. “This baby can’t be mine!”
“You’ll wake him, Carys. You don’t need to shout.” Eric’s hand drifts to the baby’s forehead, and it seems to soothe them both.
“You signed papers to have the embryos destroyed, that’s true. But the leftover eggs were released to Eric.” My father holds his hands up in a surrendering gesture.
“What?” When I start to shake, Finn’s hand trails down my back to rest above my waist. “How? I would remember agreeing to that. I would. I wouldn’t have done that. Why would I do that?”
Charles sighs. “It was after the last miscarriage.” He searches my face for a moment. “You were in a pretty dark place.”
My mind struggles to compute what he’s saying. Yes, I didn’t cope very well when I found out Eric was a serial cheater paying for abortions when I’d miscarried for the seventh time. A baby with Eric wasn’t the solution to our problems. I knew it then, and I sure as hell know it now.
“I bounced back, Dad. I always bounced the fuck back.” Then like a torrential downpour appearing out of nowhere, the truth drops. “You did this?” Disbelief rushes through me. “You had a hand in this?”
The baby wiggles, and I adjust my hold. But I can’t acknowledge him. Each time I register that I have a baby in my arms and he might be mine, I no longer care quite enough how it happened, why it’s happened, or whether the baby is even mine.
A baby.
“For years,” Charles says, “you wanted a child. You went through so much to get pregnant, and then to never carry a baby to term? Destroying the eggs seemed foolish. They might have been your last chance to be a mother. I did what I needed to do to make sure you weren’t throwing away an opportunity.” He gestures to the baby in my arms. “Now you get to be a mom.”
If it wasn’t for Finn’s hand on my back, I’d be unhinged. When I peer up at him, his face is impossible to read. It’s granite. But inside, my heart is breaking. If this baby is mine, biologically mine, everything I’ve been planning with Finn can’t happen. Or at least, it can’t happen the way we envisioned. Does he realize that?
“We’ll need a DNA test.” Finn breaks his silence.
Eric smirks and shakes his head. “We can get as many DNA tests as you want. They’ll tell you the same thing. That baby—Lucas—has two biological parents. Me and Carys.” He beams at me. “We’re gonna be a family. This time, I’m doing right by you.”
The picture the coroner showed me of Valeriya not long ago pops into my head. He’s making things right with me by doing wrong to a host of other people.
“Where is the woman who gave birth to this child?” Finn’s voice is tight with suppressed anger.
I breathe a sigh of relief. He’s asking the questions I should be asking. My brain is muddled, and half of it is already consumed with monitoring the minuscule movements of the baby in my arms.
“Upstairs.” Eric gestures to the ceiling. “You’re welcome to talk to her. She’s agreed to stay on as our wet nurse. You were so keen to make sure our child was breastfed.”
“Eric.” My whole body goes cold. “That was five years ago. A lot has happened since then.”
“So you’d prefer he was bottle fed?”
A scream works its way up into my throat. I’m on the cusp of saying I’d rather he hadn’t used my eggs to create a baby I no longer want, but saying the words are crass, not true. Assuming Lucas is mine, I’d never want him to hear that repeated later in anger by Eric. Kids can be weapons between parents. Any relationship with him will be a battlefield.
“You’re being deliberately obtuse,” I push out through clenched teeth. “Neither one of you even talked to me. You didn’t ask me.”
“Are you saying you don’t want the baby?” Eric frowns.
“No—I—it’s just—” I shake my head. Nothing sounds right. “I don’t understand how you did this without me.” My voice cracks, and Finn’s arm tightens and shifts to my waist. He’s the only thing holding me up.
Eric and my father exchange a look loaded with meaning. Was Valeriya part of this? The timeline Ekaterina mentioned sort of matches. Maybe her involvement with Eric, her involvement with this baby made her bold.
“Who helped you?” I ask.
“It’s Russia.” My father waves a hand. “The only help you need is money and a few connections. Lots of money. Once you’ve got that, you can make anything happen.”
“First thing in the morning,” Finn says, “we’re getting a DNA test.”
“Have at it.” Eric chuckles.
Finn’s fingers clench the material at my waist. I peek up at him, but his murderous gaze is focused on Eric.
The baby snuffles and wiggles in my arms. When I look down, his little face is contorting like he’s about to cry. Eric checks the clock on the wall.
“Probably feeding time. I’ll take him upstairs for Galina to feed him.”
“That’s her name?” I whisper as I pass him to Eric. As the baby leaves me, a heaviness settles in my chest. Part of me wants to snatch him right back, keep him tucked close. What if he’s mine?
“It is.” Eric grins. “Her English is impeccable. You’ll be great friends, I think.”
The tension radiating off Finn is unmistakable. It amazes me that Eric can ignore it, as though Finn isn’t on the verge of releasing his gun and shooting him. If I turned to him and asked, I know he’d do it. Eric had better be telling the truth about the baby. Otherwise Finn will give him the shovel and watch as he digs his own grave.
But then, if he is telling the truth, what does that mean for us? I sink into the couch across from my father as the full weight of the realization settles. Does he want to be a father? My brain tries to extract the fragments of conversation from before, from now. He’s never said how he would feel. A child was an impossibility. Even the miscarriage we sort of glossed over.
Would he be okay with parenting another man’s child? How will Eric and I arrange custody? Where will the baby live?
I press my fingers into my forehead. Finn’s hand strays to the top of my head in a soothing motion. God, I love him. His silence is adding another layer of fear. Will he leave me if the baby is Eric’s? I didn’t want this, but I can’t say no to it either.
“I’m tired,” I whisper to no one in particular.
Jay straightens as if coming awake. “We’ve got the hotel booked in the city.” He comes around the couch from his position by the door.
“No need.” Charles waves a dismissive hand. “This house is big enough. Seven bedrooms. Four upstairs. Baby Lucas. Galina. Eric. All have rooms up there. So you can take the fourth, Carys. Finn, Jay, and I can sleep downstairs.”
Finn tenses, and I jump in before he can say anything or even think it. “Finn will stay with me.”
“Surely not now, given the situation with Eric,” my father chides with a shake of his head.
“For fucks sakes,” Finn bursts out. “She’s a grown woman. Stop treating her like an errant child. She deserves so much better than this ambush.”
My father sizes him up for a moment before muttering, “I’ll never understand her attraction to you.”
“You don’t fucking have to, but you need to accept that it’s her choice. Not yours. Not Eric’s. Hers. Always.”
Rising, I wrap my arms around Finn’s tense bicep. He doesn’t take his eyes off my father, but his seething rage comforts me. When he was so quiet, I couldn’t read him. But this? I understand this. I’m supposed to feel the same. Hurt. Betrayed. Blindsided. Instead, I’m numb, clinging onto him like a lifeline.
“Take me upstairs.” The words are a plea.
“Jay,” Finn says.
“I’ll get your bags.” He heads for the front door. “And I’ll bring them up in the minute.”
As I’m led past my father, he says, “I thought you’d be happier.”
“I can’t talk to you right now, Dad. I need to wrap my head around... everything.”
“Well,” my father says, glancing at Finn. “Hopefully in the morning, you’ll realize what a blessing this is. How fortunate you are to have this opportunity.”
Bile rises in my throat. Finn wraps his arm around me tighter and guides me toward the stairs.