Part 5

“It was returned to me three weeks later, marked ‘Recipient declined.’ I kept the envelope.”

He straightened abruptly. “Mom! Could you come in here?”

I stood between him and the door. “Don’t raise your voice. The children are right outside.”

Lorraine appeared a moment later. “What’s going on?”

Grant turned to her. “Did a package from Elaine arrive here eight years ago while I was moving overseas?”

Lorraine brought her hands together. Her eyes moved from Grant to me.

“I remember an envelope being returned, yes.”

“Why?”

She began to cry. “Because you told me to send anything from Elaine or her attorney back. You said you wanted no more letters, no more calls, and no more reminders of your marriage.”

Grant sank into one of the chairs. “I told you to do that?”

“You were angry,” Lorraine said. “You insisted there was no baby, and I believed you.”

The truth sat between us, plain and painful. Grant had spent years telling himself I never tried to reach him. Yet he had been the one to close the door, and he had given his mother the instructions to keep it closed.

Lorraine wiped her cheeks. “There’s something else I should show you.”

She crossed to a wooden chest beside the shelves and opened it. Inside was a yellowed envelope.

“This came months later. It was addressed to Grant, but there was no return address.”

The handwriting on the back read: Before Grant decides Elaine lied, he should ask who first told him not to believe her.

My pulse quickened. I turned toward him. “Who did you tell first when I said I was pregnant?”

He frowned, searching his memory. “My business partner, Trevor Ross.”

Trevor had always treated Grant’s overseas transfer as the most important thing in the world. He had talked about the opportunity as if it were a door that would close forever if Grant took time to think.

I looked at Grant. “Three days before you confronted me, Trevor told you I was going to use a pregnancy to keep you here.”

Grant picked up the envelope. “He said you called his office to ask about my salary overseas.”

“I never had his number. I never called his office.”

He opened the letter. It was written by Trevor’s younger sister, Paige, who had worked as an administrative assistant at the investment firm. She said Trevor had invented the call and encouraged Grant to distrust me because he feared Grant might reconsider the overseas deal if he stayed committed to his marriage. Paige had helped her brother keep quiet for a time, but the guilt had eventually become too much, and she had written the letter to tell the truth.

Grant read it in silence. When he reached the end, his hands were shaking.

“Trevor lied to me,” he whispered.

“He gave you a story you were ready to accept,” I said. “He didn’t make you sign those papers. You chose not to trust me.”

Grant looked down at the letter. “You’re right. I wanted an excuse to run from being a father, and I let Trevor hand me one.”

Natalie was standing just beyond the open doorway. She had heard enough to understand.

“Did you ever try to find Elaine after you came back?” she asked.

Grant looked at her. “About four years ago, I saw an online article about her design firm. It said she had children.”

I felt my anger rise again. “You knew I was a mother, and you never asked whether those children were yours?”

“I didn’t know they were,” he said. “I was afraid of what you’d say. I convinced myself it was none of my business.”