“What should I do?”
“Document.”
“Preserve communications.”
“Do not harass the other possible father.”
“I don’t know who he is.”
“Good.”
“That removes one bad idea.”
I almost smiled.
Rebecca continued:
“And get emotional support from someone who is not your lawyer.”
“Lawyers are expensive therapists.”
“Terrible value.”
After the call, I drove back to the hotel.
At 5:12, Claire called.
I watched it ring.
Then answered.
“Hello.”
Silence.
Then:
“You found it.”
Not a question.
“Yes.”
Claire exhaled shakily.
“Where are you?”
“Not relevant.”
“Ethan.”
“No.”
I sat on the edge of the bed.
“You do not get to control this conversation.”
She started crying immediately.
“I’m sorry.”
“Stop.”
Her crying quieted.
“I need answers.”
“Okay.”
“Did you know before yesterday that the baby might be mine?”
“Yes.”
“How likely?”
“I don’t know.”
“What did the doctor say?”
“That timing alone can’t tell us.”
“So you looked me in the eyes and said you were sure.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“You read the letter.”
“I want to hear you say it.”
Claire was quiet.
Then:
“I wanted to know if you’d stay.”
My grip tightened around the phone.
“You wanted to know if I’d raise another man’s baby.”
“Yes.”
“Without knowing it might be mine.”
“Yes.”
“And you thought that would tell you whether I loved you.”
Her voice broke.
“I know how awful it sounds.”
“It doesn’t sound awful.”
“It is awful.”
“I’m not confused about that.”
She cried.
I let her.
Then asked:
“Who is he?”
Claire went silent.
I nearly laughed.
“We are beyond protecting his identity.”
“I’m not protecting him.”
“Then tell me.”
“He’s someone I met at the resort.”
“Name.”
“Daniel Mercer.”
I wrote it down.
“Married?”
“No.”
“You sure?”
“As far as I know.”
“Did you exchange numbers?”
“Yes.”
“Have you talked since?”
“Twice.”
“Did you tell him you were pregnant?”
“No.”
“What did you tell him?”
“That what happened was a mistake and I was staying in my marriage.”
I closed my eyes.
“You decided that before talking to me.”
“Yes.”