Chapter 4 - The Funeral of Every Negative Test
For years, I blamed my body.
That was the cruelty of it.
I remembered needles on the bathroom counter, bruises on my stomach, and Luca holding my hand before procedures, then slowly holding it less often. Every month without a pregnancy became evidence against me.
Dr. Samuel Hargrove had been our specialist. After our fourth failed cycle, he sat across from us and said, “Nia, your numbers have dropped more quickly than expected.”
I looked at Luca.
He looked at the floor.
Now Evelyn was telling us Hargrove’s clinic had received money from Victor.
Luca pulled out his phone. “I’m calling him.”
“No.”
He looked at me sharply.
“If Victor did this, you don’t warn him.”
Evelyn nodded. “She’s right.”
Luca gave her a cold look. “You seem very prepared for this.”
“I’ve spent two months deciding whether your best friend is stealing from your company.”
“And you married me while investigating him?”
Evelyn’s mouth tightened. “We’ll discuss our marriage later.”
That sentence told me the glossy photographs of their perfect life were lying too.
My phone buzzed. Ms. Renee said the kids were asking for me.
I stood. “I’m taking my children home.”
Luca blocked the door again, but kept his distance.
“Nia. I need to know.”
“You already know.”
“I need proof.”
“DNA test?”
“Yes.”
“Fine. My terms. Private lab. My attorney present. No press. No company lawyers.”
“Agreed.”
I reached for the door.
Then Luca said, “There’s something else.”
I looked back.
“Three years after our divorce, I was tested at Mayo. Then Manhattan. Then Northwestern.”
I knew what was coming.
“Every doctor told me I was fertile.”
May you like
He swallowed.
“And that’s when I started wondering what happened to you.”
