Chapter 6
I didn't sleep after Rachel's phone call.
Every memory of Patricia Mitchell felt contaminated.
I remembered her sitting beside me during fertility appointments.
I remembered her bringing soup when I was recovering from medical procedures.
I remembered her saying God had a plan for my marriage.
And I remembered the morning she told me I should let Adrian find happiness with someone else.
Now I wondered how much of that kindness had been real.
At eight the next morning, Rachel sent me a copy of Olivia Reed's complaint.
I read it twice.
The document described concerns about an authorization bearing my name.
Olivia reported that she could not verify my consent.
She stated that Patricia Mitchell had called the clinic repeatedly, demanding that staff proceed.
According to the complaint, Patricia claimed she was authorized to speak for our family.
But she had no legal authority to make medical decisions for me.
I sat at the kitchen table, staring at the page.
David poured coffee into my mug.
“What does it say?”
I handed it to him.
He read silently.
Then his jaw tightened.
“She knew.”
I nodded.
“She knew.”
He sat across from me.
“What are you going to do?”
I took a breath.
“Tell my attorney to give everything to the investigators.”
David reached for my hand.
“And Patricia?”
I looked toward the window.
“I want to hear what she has to say.”
He studied me.
“Are you sure?”
“No.”
I smiled sadly.
“But I need to know.”
That afternoon, Patricia called before I had decided whether to contact her.
Her voice trembled.
“Serena?”
I said nothing.
“I heard you spoke with Melissa.”
I felt my stomach tighten.
“How did you hear that?”
“Adrian told me.”
I closed my eyes.
Of course.
Even now, they were talking.
“Patricia, did you pressure Brookside to accept paperwork using my signature?”
Silence.
Then she whispered, “Yes.”
I gripped the phone.
For eleven years, I had wanted someone to admit the truth.
Now I had an admission.
And it hurt more than I expected.
“Why?”
Patricia began crying.
“I wanted grandchildren.”
I stared at the wall.
“You wanted grandchildren?”
“I thought Adrian deserved a family.”
My voice shook.
“And I didn't?”
She sobbed.
“Serena, I loved you.”
“No.”
The word came out sharply.
“You loved what you wanted me to give your son.”
She became silent.
I continued.
“You watched me blame myself for our marriage ending.”
“I know.”
“You let people think I was defective.”
“I know.”
“You told me to leave so Adrian could be happy.”
She began crying harder.
“I'm sorry.”
I closed my eyes.
The apology couldn't reach the wound she had created.
Not yet.
“Patricia, your son lied because he was ashamed of his medical results.”
“I know.”
“And you helped him blame me.”
She whispered, “Yes.”
I took a breath.
“Then I need you to understand something.”
“What?”
“I forgive myself for ever believing you.”
She made a small sound.
I continued.
“But I am not ready to forgive you.”
“I understand.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
“Then cooperate with the investigation.”
She hesitated.
“Adrian will never forgive me.”
I felt anger rise again.
“Did you worry about my forgiveness when you helped him?”
She said nothing.
I ended the call.
Then I cried.
Not because I missed her.
Because I was finally mourning the mother-in-law I thought I had.
The woman who never existed.
Over the following weeks, the investigation moved forward.
Brookside's records confirmed serious irregularities in how the donor program had been documented.
The clinic acknowledged that disputed authorizations had been placed in my file.
The proposed embryo arrangement had been stopped before any transfer.
No embryos associated with the disputed agreement had ever been used to create a pregnancy.
That information brought enormous relief.
I had been frightened by the possibility that decisions involving my identity could have resulted in a child whose circumstances I knew nothing about.
Now I understood the limits of what had happened.
The wrongdoing was real.
But some of my worst fears were not.
Rachel explained that the medical-record and identity issues would be addressed through separate proceedings.
We also filed a civil claim concerning the misuse of my personal information.
I wasn't interested in becoming rich.
I wanted acknowledgment.
Accountability.
And protection for anyone else who might have been harmed.
Meanwhile, Vanessa began rebuilding her life.
She moved out of the house she had shared with Adrian.
She returned the wedding gifts.
She canceled their honeymoon.
And she took time away from work to recover.
One evening, she invited me for coffee.
I wasn't sure what to expect.
When I arrived, she was sitting near the window.
She looked tired but peaceful.
“Serena,” she said.
I sat across from her.
“How are you?”
She laughed softly.
“Better than the last time you saw me.”
I smiled.
“That's good.”
She stirred her coffee.
“I wanted to thank you.”
I shook my head.
“You don't have to.”
“Yes, I do.”
She looked at me.
“If you hadn't walked into that ballroom, I would have married him.”
I felt a familiar ache.
“I didn't want to hurt you.”
“I know.”
She reached for my hand.
“You saved me from building a marriage on lies.”
Tears filled my eyes.
For a moment, I remembered standing at my own wedding, believing Adrian would always protect me.
Vanessa squeezed my hand.
“Do you know what the hardest part was?”
“What?”
“Realizing I had defended him to people who were telling me the truth.”
I nodded.
“I know that feeling.”
She looked down.
“His mother told me you were bitter.”
I gave a sad smile.
“She said the same thing about me to anyone who would listen.”
Vanessa shook her head.
“I believed her.”
I looked at her.
“You believed the people you trusted.”
She wiped her eyes.
“I'm sorry.”
I took her hand.
“I don't blame you.”
We talked for nearly two hours.
Not as rivals.
Not as women fighting over a man.
But as two people who had been hurt by the same deception.
When we left the café, Vanessa hugged me.
For the first time, I felt something close to closure.
But the following morning, Rachel called with troubling news.
“Serena, Adrian has filed a complaint against you.”
I sat down.
“What kind of complaint?”
“He claims you intentionally disrupted his wedding and caused reputational damage.”
I stared at the phone.
“After everything he did?”
“Yes.”
I felt anger rising.
“What does he want?”
“Financial compensation.”
I laughed bitterly.
“He wants me to pay him?”
Rachel's voice remained calm.
“We'll respond through the proper process.”
I looked toward the living room.
My children were laughing with David.
I wasn't going to let Adrian reach into my home again.
“Rachel, do whatever you need to do.”
“I will.”
Then she hesitated.
“There's something else.”
“What?”
“Adrian attached a statement from Patricia.”
My stomach tightened.
“What does it say?”
Rachel took a breath.
“She claims she acted without his knowledge.”
I closed my eyes.
Patricia was trying to protect him again.
Even after admitting the truth to me.
I gripped the phone.
“Then we need to prove what he knew.”
Rachel answered quietly.
“We may already have the evidence.”
I sat forward.
“What evidence?”
“A recording.”
My heart began pounding.
“Of what?”
“Adrian discussing the forged authorization.”
I froze.
“Who recorded it?”
Rachel paused.
“Vanessa.”
And suddenly I understood why Vanessa had asked so many questions before leaving her fiancé.
May you like
She hadn't simply walked away.
She had made sure the truth could follow her.
