Chapter 2: The Secret My Wife Buried
I didn't open the door.
Not immediately.
I stood there with my hand on the handle, staring at the wood as if it might somehow explain what my wife had just said.
“One of them is mine?”” I repeated.
Eleanor sighed.
“Please don't make this difficult.””
I almost laughed.
There were two newborn babies in my bedroom. A frightened woman had been locked inside with them. My wife was standing outside, refusing to explain herself.
And she was worried about things becoming difficult.
“Open the door, Marcus.””
“Tell me which baby is mine.””
“Not here.””
“Then where?””
She lowered her voice.
“Downstairs. We can discuss this privately.””
I looked back at Nia.
She was holding both babies close, one against each arm. Her face was wet with tears.
“No,” I said.
“We're discussing it now.””
Eleanor went quiet.
Then I heard her footsteps moving away.
I waited.
A moment later, something scraped against the lock.
She was trying to open it from outside.
I stepped back.
“Eleanor!””
“Move away from the door,” she ordered.
I heard the unmistakable metallic click of a key.
The lock turned.
The door swung open.
My wife stood in the hallway wearing her cream designer suit, pearl earrings, and the expression of a woman who had just been inconvenienced by a delayed appointment.
Her eyes moved from me to Nia.
Then to the babies.
“You weren't supposed to be home,” she said.
I stared at her.
“That's your first explanation?””
She ignored the question.
“Give me the children.””
“No.””
“Marcus, don't be ridiculous.””
“Who are their parents?””
Eleanor stepped into the room and held out her arms.
“I'll explain everything once they're downstairs.””
I moved between her and the bed.
“Take one more step toward those babies, and I'll have the police escort you out.””
Her expression hardened.
“You wouldn't dare.””
“I already called them.””
For the first time, she looked genuinely unsettled.
Then she turned toward Nia.
“You had one job.””
Nia flinched.
I stepped closer to Eleanor.
“Don't speak to her like that.””
“She disobeyed me.””
“She was locked in a room with two newborns!””
Eleanor adjusted the bracelet on her wrist.
“She was being paid to follow instructions.””
The casual cruelty in her voice made my hands tighten.
I had known Eleanor for eleven years.
We had built a house together, attended weddings together, buried parents together, and spent countless evenings planning a future that now seemed like something I had imagined.
I had never heard her speak to another human being like that.
“Sit down,” I said.
She raised an eyebrow.
“Excuse me?””
“Sit down and tell me the truth.””
Before she could answer, the doorbell rang.
I heard footsteps downstairs.
Then a man's voice.
“Police department. We received a call.””
Eleanor closed her eyes briefly.
“Wonderful,” she muttered.
Two officers entered the bedroom a minute later.
The older one introduced himself as Officer Bennett. His partner, a younger woman named Officer Harris, immediately approached Nia.
“Ma'am, are you hurt?””
Nia nodded.
Officer Harris noticed the mark on her wrist.
“Who restrained you?””
Nia looked at Eleanor.
My wife folded her arms.
“This is a misunderstanding.””
Officer Bennett turned toward her.
“Ma'am, please explain why the bedroom was locked from the outside.””
Eleanor smiled.
“I was trying to keep the babies safe.””
“From whom?””
She looked at me.
“From unnecessary interference.””
Officer Bennett wrote something in his notebook.
Then he asked for identification and the babies' medical paperwork.
Eleanor reached into her handbag.
“I have everything.””
She produced a thick white envelope.
Inside were hospital discharge papers, two birth certificates, and several documents bearing my name.
I took one of the birth certificates.
The first baby's name was listed as Oliver James Bennett.
The second was listed as Olivia Grace Bennett.
Both documents listed the father as Marcus Bennett.
I stared at the names.
“Who is the mother?””
Eleanor reached for the papers.
“Give those back.””
I pulled them away.
“Who is the mother?””
She looked at Officer Bennett.
“Can we please have a private conversation?””
“No,” I said.
Officer Harris examined the documents.
“Mr. Bennett, these certificates appear to have been issued recently.””
“Can you verify them?””
“We'll need to contact the issuing office.””
I turned to Eleanor.
“Did you register these children as mine?””
She looked at me with an expression I couldn't read.
“I did what was necessary.””
“What was necessary?””
She finally lost her patience.
“You wanted children, Marcus! You spent years talking about having a family. I was trying to give you one!””
My chest tightened.
We had wanted children.
For years, we had tried.
But after several failed fertility treatments, Eleanor had told me she wanted to stop.
She had said she couldn't endure another disappointment.
I had respected her decision.
I had held her when she cried.
I had even apologized for wanting something she no longer wanted.
And now there were two newborn babies in my bedroom.
“You told me you didn't want to try anymore,” I whispered.
“I changed my mind.””
“Then why didn't you tell me?””
She looked away.
Officer Bennett interrupted.
“Ma'am, we need to establish who gave birth to these children.””
Eleanor's jaw tightened.
“They were born through a private arrangement.””
“What arrangement?””
“A surrogacy arrangement.””
I looked at the documents again.
“Where is the surrogate?””
Eleanor didn't answer.
Nia suddenly spoke.
“She said the mother wasn't coming back.””
Everyone turned toward her.
Eleanor's face went white.
“Nia, be quiet.””
Officer Harris moved closer to the bed.
“Who said that?””
Nia swallowed.
“Mrs. Eleanor.””
I looked at my wife.
“Where is the mother?””
Eleanor shook her head.
“This is getting out of control.””
Then the doorbell rang again.
This time, the sound was followed by hurried footsteps.
Daniel entered the bedroom, carrying his briefcase.
He looked at the officers, then at Eleanor, and finally at me.
“Marcus,” he said, “we have a serious problem.””
I handed him the birth certificates.
He barely glanced at them.
“I know.””
“What do you mean?””
Daniel opened his briefcase and removed a printed hospital record.
He placed it on the bed.
“The hospital contacted me after I requested verification. The twins were delivered at St. Catherine's Medical Center yesterday morning.””
I looked at the date.
Yesterday.
“Who gave birth to them?””
Daniel hesitated.
Then he pointed to the mother's name.
My eyes followed his finger.
And the room seemed to tilt.
The name wasn't Eleanor Bennett.
It wasn't some unknown surrogate.
It was a name I had not heard spoken in seven years.
*Sophie Bennett.*
My younger sister.
The sister Eleanor had told everyone had died in a car accident.
I looked at Daniel.
“That's impossible.””
He shook his head slowly.
“Marcus, your sister didn't die.””
Before I could respond, Daniel placed another photograph on the bed.
It showed Sophie standing outside the hospital.
May you like
She was holding a newborn baby.
And standing beside her, with one hand resting on her shoulder, was my wife.
