Chương 3 - Nỗi Lo Âu Của Người Mẹ

Jenna started shaking her head.

“. Claire, . You’re saying—”

“I’m saying the baby in my house may be Caleb.”

She at me.

“And the baby you’ve raising may be Owen.”

She made a sound I never want to hear another human being make.

It wasn’t quite a sob.

It sounded someone losing the floor beneath .

“.”

“I you to do a DNA test.”

She backed away.

“.”

“Jenna.”

“He looks me.”

“Newborns look a lot of people.”

“He’s my son.”

“ is the baby at my house someone’s son.”

She began harder.

I hated her.

I pitied her.

I wanted to scream at her for sleeping with my husband.

I wanted to grab her shoulders and make her understand that neither of could afford to look away.

Instead I said, “I carried two boys. I know one of is missing. You gave birth to one boy. If my lab result is right, there is a very simple way to find out Ethan did.”

Jenna sank the chair.

For a minute, the only sound in the room was her .

Then she whispered, “He told me you hated him.”

I looked at her.

“He said you only stayed because of the house and the pregnancy. He said after the , he was to file.”

“He was discussing preschool options with me two weeks before I delivered.”

Her crumpled.

“I’m sorry.”

“I don’t apology right now.”

“I know.”

“I records.”

She nodded slowly.

“And I you to test the baby.”

Another nod.

“I have my hospital portal.”

“Good.”

She pulled out her phone with shaking hands.

spent the next forty minutes comparing dates.

Her son, Caleb Cole, had born at another Atlanta hospital roughly twenty hours after my twins.

Six pounds, three ounces.

Healthy.

Jenna’s postpartum hemorrhage had taken her out of the equation immediately.

The hospital kept Caleb in the nursery while she was stabilized.

Her chart showed she had authorized Ethan as the father to participate in discharge planning.

She had done that because she believed they were to be together.

I felt another wave of anger.

Not at her.

At him.

He had placed himself in the exact position he needed.

Two mothers recovering from complicated births.

Three newborn boys.

Two hospitals.

And Ethan moving between all of while everyone trusted him.

Jenna agreed to the testing.

went attorneys from that point forward.

Maya contacted a lawyer for Jenna.

The were tested at an accredited lab under controlled conditions.

I did not tell Ethan.

Neither did Jenna.

Those were the longest four days of my life.

I fed the baby I had calling Owen.

I changed him.

I rocked him.

I cried the top of his head after he fell asleep.

He still calmed I held him.

He still turned toward my voice.

None of that disappeared because DNA said he belonged to another woman.

And somewhere town, another woman was doing the same thing with my biological son.

the results back, Maya asked me to come to her office.

My mother with me.

Jenna and her attorney joined by video.

Maya placed the papers in front of me.

I already from her expression.

“The baby in is biologically Jenna’s son.”

Jenna covered her mouth the screen.

Maya continued.

“The child Jenna has raising is biologically son.”

I at the paper.

Maternity probability greater than 99.99%.

My son.

Owen.

Alive.

Healthy.

Six weeks old.

town.

My mother started .

I couldn’t.

Not yet.

Maya waited.

Then I asked the only thing I could think of.

“ do I get him back?”

The exchange was not done in a parking lot or somebody’s living room.

Maya insisted everything go counsel.

The pediatricians were notified.

Documents were collected.

Both were examined.

Because the situation could involve serious legal issues, the attorneys also advised to make reports with the appropriate authorities instead of trying to privately “fix” Ethan had done.

I let the professionals argue over terminology.

I cared about one thing.

Getting my child.

The first time I held the real Owen after six weeks apart, I thought I was to collapse.

Jenna brought him a pediatric office with her lawyer and her mother.

I brought Caleb.

That was the first time used their actual names with each other.

Not “ baby.”

Not “the baby at my house.”

Caleb.

Owen.

Jenna was before she walked the door.

was I.

I looked at Owen.

He had more hair than Noah.

A slightly rounder .

He at me I was a stranger.

Because I was.

That nearly destroyed me.

Jenna held him close.

“He likes being walked he gets fussy,” she said tears. “Not rocked. Walked.”

I nodded.

“Caleb hates cold bottles.”

She started harder.

“I know.”

“. I mean really hates . He’ll scream you insulted him personally.”

A broken laugh out of her.

I handed Caleb to her.

She clutched him to her chest.

He immediately started .

did she.

Then she handed me Owen.

For the first few seconds, he stiffened.

His widened.

He looked toward Jenna.

Something tore my chest.

I whispered, “I know. I know.”

I didn’t tell him I was Mommy.

Not yet.

I just held him.

Eventually he settled enough to grip one of my fingers.

I looked the room at Jenna holding Caleb.

had both slept with the same man.

Only one of had known he was married.

Neither of had agreed to this.

I did not forgive her for the affair that day.

She did not ask me to.

had a bigger problem.

Ethan.

waited until both were safe before confronting him.

By then, Ethan something was wrong.

He had texting Jenna repeatedly.

She stopped answering.

At , he noticed “Owen” was suddenly spending more time with me.

He started asking questions.

“Why are you keeping him downstairs?”

“Because I want both boys with me.”

“Since ?”

I looked at him.

“Since they’re my children.”

He went still.

Only for a second.

Then he laughed.

“Okay.”

That tiny reaction told me I was done pretending.

The confrontation happened a Tuesday evening.

My mother had Noah and Owen at her house.

Caleb was with Jenna’s mother.

Maya had told me I did not have to confront Ethan at all.

I wanted to.

Not alone.

My mother was there.

was Maya.

Jenna waited in another room with her attorney.

Ethan around six-thirty.

He saw Maya at the dining table and stopped.

“’s ?”

I pointed to the chair from me.

“Sit down.”

His moved from me to Maya.

“Claire.”

“Sit.”

He set his keys the counter.

“Where are the boys?”

“With my mother.”

His changed.

“Why?”

I put the first DNA report the table.

The original maternity test.

Ethan looked at it.

Then at me.

“ is this?”

“You tell me.”

He picked it up.

I watched his move the page.

He swallowed.

“This is one of those kits?”

“It was.”

He looked relieved.

Actually relieved.

“Claire, those things make mistakes.”

“ did another one.”

I put the accredited result beside it.

His fingers stopped moving.

Maya said nothing.

Neither did I.

Ethan read the page.

Then he leaned back.

“I can explain.”

I felt something cold move me.

“Please do.”

“It isn’t you think.”

“I haven’t told you I think.”

He looked at Maya.

“This is a family matter.”

She answered calmly.

“Claire asked me to be here.”

He looked back at me.

“Where’s Owen?”

I admired him for trying.

“Which Owen?”

His emptied.

I put the third report the table.

The result showing that the baby Jenna had raising was biologically mine.

Ethan didn’t touch it.

He at the heading.

His breathing became shallow.

Then I put down Jenna’s result.

Caleb.

Her biological son.

The baby Ethan had placed in my house.

He closed his .

For the first time since I had known him, Ethan Bennett had absolutely nothing to say.

I asked him.

“Why?”

His opened.

“Claire—”

“Why did I bring one son while my other son went with girlfriend?”

He rubbed both hands over his .

“It wasn’t supposed to happen this.”

My mother made a sound of disgust.

I held up my hand.

I wanted to hear him.

“ was supposed to happen?”

“Jenna was sick.”

“And?”

“She died.”

“I know.”

“She had nobody here.”

“She had a hospital.”

“You don’t understand.”

“Then make me understand.”

Ethan stood.

Maya said, “I would advise you to remain calm.”

He pointed at her.

“I don’t advice from you.”

I laughed.

It surprised all of .

Maybe because there was nothing funny in it.

“You switched newborn , Ethan. I think you more advice than anyone I have ever met.”

He looked at me.

“I panicked.”

“You panicked.”

“Yes.”

“And panic made you take Caleb from one hospital, bring him our house as Owen, then take our actual son to Jenna?”

He flinched I said it plainly.

“It was to be temporary.”

“How temporary?”

“A few days.”

“Six weeks.”

“I got trapped.”

I at him.

“You got trapped?”

“I didn’t know how to undo it.”

My mother stood up.

“You could have told the truth.”

Ethan turned her.

“And destroyed everyone?”

She looked at him he was something rotten.

“You did that anyway.”

He looked back at me.

“I was trying to protect the .”

That was the moment I lost control.

I gripped the edge of the table.

“Do not use the word protect.”

“Claire—”

“You took my child.”

“I where he was every second.”

The room went completely still.

I stood.

“You where he was.”

Ethan’s changed as he heard his own words.

I walked around the table.

“You where my newborn was every second.”

“Claire.”

“I didn’t.”

He backed up once.

“You took him out of my life and gave him to another woman.”

“She cared for him.”

“He was mine.”

“I know.”

“And then you brought her baby my house.”

“I was to fix it.”

“How?”

He had answer.

“How, Ethan?”

“I don’t know.”

“There it is.”

I stopped myself.

I didn’t want to give him a speech.

I wanted an answer.

“You didn’t have a plan.”

His voice dropped.

“.”

“You just assumed the rest of would keep absorbing whatever you did.”

He looked down.

“I loved all three of .”

That made me furious in a new way.

“You loved ?”

“Yes.”

“You barely touched Noah.”

“He wasn’t the one in danger.”

“None of were in danger until you got involved.”

He shook his head.

“Jenna was talking about moving to Florida with Caleb.”

I at him.

And suddenly the motive focus.

Not love.

Control.

“You didn’t want her to take him away from you.”

His silence answered.

“ you put Caleb in our house.”

Ethan’s filled.

“I thought if he was with me—”

“You could keep him.”

“Yes.”

“And Owen?”

“I Jenna would take care of him.”

My mother whispered, “Oh my God.”

I felt nauseous.