“…open the envelope I left in your drawer. Right there, you’re going to understand exactly why Valerie chose David, of all people, to get pregnant.”
I read that sentence three times on my cell phone screen, with the baby still in my arms. The nurse was waiting for my signature. Valerie was waiting for me to obey. And I, for the first time in months, did not do what everyone expected of me.
—I’m not signing anything —I said.
The nurse blinked, uncomfortable. —Sir, it’s for the birth certificate paperwork.
I looked at the child. He was innocent. He wasn’t to blame for being born in the middle of a rotten lie. But I had already committed too many sins on impulse.
Valerie opened her eyes. —Ray…
It wasn’t a plea. It was fear.
I carefully handed the baby back to the nurse, as if I were holding glass. Then I stepped closer to Valerie’s bed. She was pale, sweaty, her hair matted to her forehead.
—Tell me he isn’t David’s.
I walked out of the room, feeling the hospital hallway warp around me. We were in Brickell, an area where everything looked clean, expensive, and perfect, as if money could erase the filth of the soul. Outside, the elevators went up and down with well-dressed people, costly flowers, and blue balloons.
I was the only man there who had just found out his “miracle” carried the face of his betrayal.
I called David. Once. Twice. Three times. He didn’t answer. Then a text from him arrived: “Chill out. Don’t make a scene. Sign the papers and tomorrow we’ll talk like partners.”
Like partners. I felt like smashing my phone against the wall. I didn’t. I saved the message. For the first time, I understood that Lucy hadn’t sent me that envelope to get revenge. She had sent it to save me from myself.
