Trespassing(99)

She chews on her thumbnail.

“There was another woman. Her name was Gabrielle. She and Micah had twin boys.”

She’s nodding. Her tears intensifying. “Connor and Brendan.”

Of course she knows about them. Both women came to this house. There were no secrets between them. After a breath or two, I continue. “Can you imagine? All these years ago, I signed paperwork, and it turns out I was giving Micah power of attorney to buy this house. I didn’t know anything about it, and then I found the deed . . . and then I got here, and the hits kept coming. He’d stashed some hot little number and their children away here, in a house he hid from me. And his name is on their birth certificates.”

She’s nodding. “We knew at that point that he should be part of their lives. Of course his name is on their birth certificates. He gave us a family, Veronica. Gabby and I couldn’t have had a family without him.”

My heart pounds as realization dawns.

When I was finally ready to consider IVF, Micah knew which clinic to go to because he’d already been there with Natasha, with Gabrielle. Is his betrayal any less because he wasn’t sleeping with them, only donating his sperm?

I imagine Micah, Natasha, Gabrielle, and all their children sitting around this table, while I was zoned out on Xanax. It must’ve been quite a party, the three of them snickering about dumb, clueless Veronica bleeding out while they waited out the miscarriage in Key West.

What an idiot I’ve been.

“She was a special woman, Veronica. I wish you’d gotten the chance to know her the way Micah did, the way I did.”

Wait. The way she’s talking about her . . .

I replay Natasha’s words: she and Gabby wouldn’t have had a family without Micah. A family. Not families.

I meet Natasha’s gaze, and finally, I understand.

Gabrielle was Natasha’s life partner.

The sperm in storage. It wasn’t for Micah and me. It was in storage for Gabrielle and Natasha. That’s why it was paid with a separate card—probably Natasha’s. It was on a second account. My husband’s name was associated with the account. The clinic must have screwed up when they called me to settle the bill. And it explains the coincidence of her twin boys and mine. Assisted fertility often results in multiples.

All this time, I assumed Micah had been in love with Gabrielle, torn between two families. But all this time, Gabrielle was raising a family with my roommate from college. She wasn’t in love with Micah. She didn’t steal him from me.

And suddenly, I wonder if I stole Micah from Natasha . . . or if he stole me from her.

All the nights she and I spent curled up together, watching television . . .

The way Natasha looked at me, when she learned Micah and I had fallen love . . .

Micah’s words from the past resurface: Losing me wasn’t the problem for Natasha; losing you was. Was he right? When I was busy falling for Micah, had I neglected to notice Natasha might have been falling for me?

“I loved you,” she now says. “I never wanted to hurt you. He kept promising he’d tell you. Kept insisting he would. After you conceived again. After you’d reached your fertility goals. I would’ve told you myself, but Gabby thought it best to let him handle it. And when he didn’t handle it, she appealed to his mother.”

“Shell knew?”

“Of course Shell knew. She did charity work at Children’s Memorial, right? Gabby was a nurse there; she’d known Shell for years. When Micah and I were dating, we went with Shell to a benefit, and there she was. I think . . . sometimes I wonder if Micah knew what I was before I did. He must have seen the energy between Gabby and me. Maybe that’s why he so easily turned his back on me . . . for you.”

Maybe.

“Shell agreed with Micah,” Natasha says. “It was best not to tell you about the babies. You weren’t my business anymore. You were Micah’s, and Gabby was mine.”

“Gabrielle was up at the cottage because she knew Shell,” I say. “Not because she and Micah were screwing around.”

“Yes.”

“They found lake water in her lungs.”

Natasha lets out a whimper. “Yes. And now, they’re gone,” she whispers. “She was the love of my life. How do you move on, once you’ve lost the love of your life?”

I’m gravitating toward her. Pulling her into my arms.

“I haven’t told Mimi yet about her brothers,” she whispers at my shoulder. “How do you tell a child something like that?”

I’m crying along with her now.

“Will you go with me to identify them? I can’t bear the thought of going on my own, of Mimi having to be there, and you’re the only person I trust now that I’m constantly looking over my shoulder.”

“Of course.”

Micah had other children.

Micah had secrets.

But Micah loved me.

And I . . .

My mind drifts to a slow, sweaty dance at the Rum Barrel, to heated kisses on Simonton Street Beach. I can’t believe I did those things. Especially when it’s painfully clear now that Christian Renwick was not what he seemed.

“Veronica.” Natasha swallows over a fresh batch of tears. “What’s Micah involved in?”

“I don’t know.”

“Months ago, he asked Gabby to draw his blood,” she says. “He gave her a story—something about banking the blood for Bella. Do you know anything about that? Any reason Bella might need a transfusion?”