Chapter 6 - The Cost of Believing Cole
Owen was discharged two days later.
Brooke was not.
Her blood pressure had risen overnight, and her obstetrician wanted another day of monitoring.
Under advice from both attorneys, Cole took Owen to his sister Erin’s townhouse in Wellesley rather than returning to the Newton home he shared with Megan.
Megan stayed in a hotel.
She was prohibited from contacting Brooke directly.
The arrangement was temporary and awkward.
It was also the first peaceful thing anyone had managed to create.
Brooke hated watching Owen leave.
She had known that moment would come since before the embryo transfer.
She had imagined herself crying privately after Cole and Megan walked out carrying him together.
Instead Cole stood alone beside the wheelchair.
“Do you want to hold him before we go?”
Brooke almost said no.
Then she held out her arms.
Owen settled against her chest.
She kissed the top of his head.
“Be good for your dad.”
Cole looked down.
The word dad had survived.
Everything else seemed less certain.
After he left, Nora asked, “Why are you being nice to him?”
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
Brooke turned toward the window.
“He didn’t choose my eggs.”
“He chose not to ask questions.”
Brooke knew that.
It was the part she kept trying to minimize because anger at Megan was easier.
Cole had not created the deception.
But he had benefited from not examining it.
For years, whenever fertility treatment became emotionally difficult, he handed responsibility back to Megan.
He called it respecting her privacy.
Megan called it handling things.
Together they had built a marriage where one person controlled information and the other avoided it.
Brooke had stepped directly into the result.
That afternoon Rebecca called with another complication.
“The contract states that the embryo could be created using an anonymous donor if Megan’s oocytes were medically unavailable.”
Brooke frowned.
“I never agreed to carry my own biological child.”
“No.”
“But donor eggs were allowed?”
“Anonymous donor eggs were contemplated. The representations given to you identified the donor as unrelated and unknown to the intended parents.”
Brooke sat up straighter.
“Megan knew the donor was me.”
“That’s what we still need to prove.”
Brooke understood.
The distinction mattered.
If Megan had accidentally selected Brooke’s anonymous donor lot without knowing, the ethical situation was terrible but different.
If she had recognized B-417 and chosen it deliberately, then every reassuring conversation during the pregnancy became part of the betrayal.
That evening Cole called.
“I found something strange.”
Brooke waited.
“In the bank invoices, Megan paid an additional donor-profile access fee.”
“So?”
“The standard package was already included.”
“Maybe she wanted more medical history.”
“That’s what I thought.”
He paused.
“Then I found an old text from her.”
“What text?”
“It’s from almost three years ago. Before we created the embryos.”
Brooke heard him breathing.
“What did she say?”
Cole read it.
“Do you remember whether Brooke’s donor number started with B or D?”
Brooke went completely still.
“What did you answer?”
“I told her I had no idea what she was talking about.”
“And what did she say?”
“That she was helping you find old tax records.”
Brooke closed her eyes.
May you like
Three years ago Megan had not stumbled across donor B-417.
She had been looking for it.
