“I didn’t mean to,” he pleads. “She just showed up. Totally out of the blue.”
“When was this?”
“Maybe seven months ago?”
Seven months ago. My first trimester with Opal. I could hardly get out of bed, barely able to stave off the constant nausea. Gabe rearranged his schedule so he could take Jasper to the playground and the beach while I rested. I remember how grateful I was, how lucky I felt to have a husband who prioritized our family. It was during that time he introduced Jasper to Regina.
“I didn’t plan for her to meet Jasper. She just was outside our house, acting all paranoid, which wasn’t like her. I guess I wasn’t picking up my phone, and she was freaking out about one of the donors. She was starting to make a scene, and I wasn’t thinking. I grabbed Jasper andtold you I was taking him for a walk. I just needed to get her away from our home. I didn’t tell her about Jasp, but one look at him and—”
“I get it.” I can’t let him finish his sentence, let him vocalize the intuitive bond Regina had with my son.
Jasper would have been eleven months old. His language was even sparser then than it is now. I wonder when he babbledGigifor the first time, if it was something he’d been saying in front of me for months, something I discounted as meaningless when it couldn’t have been more meaningful.
“How’d she know where we lived?”
“What?” He’s thrown by my question, its unimportance. I’m not ready to ask the questions that matter, the ones that will break me. I need to circle my way toward the truth.
“She was never at any of our parties. You were clearly keeping her a secret from me. So, how’d she know where we lived?”
“It’s the canals,” he says, like that explains everything, and it does. Gabe must have mentioned living on the canals. It’s something people remember. From there, it would have been easy for her to find us. Our shades are always up. Anyone can peer inside.
“You let her into our home.”
“No, never.”
“She had my earring.”
“What?”
“One of my prototypes. She had it.” I’m about to mention Barb, Regina’s leather jacket, but he doesn’t know about our investigation. I’m not about to let him shift the conversation, allow him to interrogate me instead.
Gabe’s eyes flit to the ceiling. “It was three-tiered? Rose-cut diamonds?” I nod. “Jasper had it. We were on the beach path, and Regina noticed him putting something in his mouth. Grabbed it from him. We were both really scared. I guess I never got it back from her?”
“How often did you let her see my son?” My voice betrays me, raising when I want it level, heated when I aim for ice cold.
“Come on, T. We don’t need to get into all this. I know you’re upset, and I don’t blame you, but—”
“That’s a relief,” I say harshly. “What a relief that you don’t blame me for being upset that you implanted another woman’s egg in me without my permission.” I need to keep saying it to make it sound real. The only inconceivable part is that Gabe, the only man I’ve ever loved, could do this to me.
“I asked you if you knew her, and you lied to my face. You made me feel like I was being paranoid. Like I was an emotional pregnant woman, when my instincts were right.”
“No. I never called you emotional.” His voice grows louder and firmer. I’m afraid he’s going to wake Opal, but newborns can’t hear that well. This is all ambient noise to her, nothing she will internalize, nothing that will corrupt her before she’s even left the hospital. “I would never use your pregnancy against you.”
While he may never have called me emotional or directly evoked my hormones, those accusations informed every word, every gesture, every moment he tried to reassure me. Maybe he’s been so conditioned to assume the irrationality of pregnant women that he didn’t even realize he was doing it. What am I talking about? He did realize. He implanted another woman’s egg inside me. Every action that followed was intentional, nonconsensual.
He rubs his face with his hands, tugs at his hair, seemingly distressed. I can’t tell what’s real with him anymore and what isn’t. “Please don’t let this break apart our family.”
“Don’t you dare put this on me.”
“Come on, Tessa. You know I didn’t mean it that way.” He’s doing it again. Making this my fault instead of his.
“How often did he see her? Because Jasper knew exactly who she was when we ran into her. That doesn’t happen from seeing her only a few times. So I want to know, how often did you let this woman see my son?”
“It wasn’t like an arranged schedule or anything. It was incredibly stupid of me. I see that now. I never should have. But she knew abouthim, and I was scared she might tell you or appeal for custody.” He hesitates, and I realize, in horror, that she may have actually had a legal claim to my son.
My thoughts start spiraling: all this time, there was a woman out there who could have tried to take my son from me, who may even have succeeded. I tell myself that she’s dead now. My son’s safe. No one can steal him from me. But there’s still Barb.
I’m vaguely aware that Gabe is still talking, offering excuses for his actions.
