PART 4 — THE PROMISE JAKE KEPT
For a few seconds, I couldn’t speak.
Michael was watching me from across the room, but all I could hear was Jake breathing on the other end of the phone.
“What did Grandma make you promise?” I asked.
Jake didn’t answer immediately.
“Mom, where are you right now?”
“At home.”
“Is Dad there?”
I looked at Michael.
“Yes.”
Another pause.
“Put me on speaker.”
I did.
Michael’s face changed the moment Jake’s voice filled the room.
“Dad, you knew about this, didn’t you?”
Michael looked away.
Jake laughed bitterly.
“That’s what I thought.”
My hands tightened around the phone.
“Jake, please. Tell me what happened.”
He exhaled slowly.
“Grandma came to see me when I was nineteen.”
“That would have been years after the hospital.”
“Yes.”
“What did she say?”
“She told me there were things about our family I didn’t understand.”
Michael lowered his head.
“She said if anything ever happened to her, I was supposed to keep an envelope.”
My heart started pounding.
“What envelope?”
“I still have it.”
“Where?”
“In my safe.”
I closed my eyes.
For eighteen years, secrets had been stored everywhere around me.
In hospital files.
In Michael’s metal box.
In my mother’s silence.
And now in my son’s safe.
“What’s inside?”
“I don’t know.”
“You never opened it?”
“No. Grandma made me promise.”
I could hear the shame in his voice.
“She told me opening it could destroy our family.”
I almost laughed.
“Our family has been living inside a lie for eighteen years.”
“I know.”
“Then open it.”
Jake hesitated.
“Mom—”
“Please.”
There was movement on his end.
A door opening.
Footsteps.
Then the metallic sound of a safe.
Michael stood.
“Susan, maybe we shouldn’t do this over the phone.”
I looked at him.
“You’ve had eighteen years to tell me in person.”
He sat back down.
Jake returned a minute later.
“I have it.”
“Read it.”
The sound of paper tearing came through the speaker.
Then silence.
“Jake?”
“Oh my God.”
My stomach twisted.
“What?”
He didn’t answer.
“Jake, what does it say?”
His voice changed.
“There are medical records.”
Michael closed his eyes.
“From my surgery?” I asked.
“No.”
My breath caught.
“Whose?”
“Mine.”
I stared at the phone.
Jake continued.
“They’re from when I was a baby.”
“What do they say?”
“I don’t understand half of it.”
“Read whatever you can.”
He shuffled the pages.
“There’s a genetic screening report.”
My heart stumbled.
“A genetic screening?”
“Yes.”
“Why would Grandma have that?”
“I don’t know.”
Michael suddenly stood.
“Jake, stop reading.”
I turned toward him.
“No.”
“Susan, you don’t understand what this could mean.”
“You keep saying that.”
Michael’s voice rose.
“Because I don’t!”
The room went still.
For the first time, he looked completely terrified.
Jake spoke again.
“There’s a letter.”
“From Grandma?”
“No.”
“To her.”
“Who wrote it?”
Jake paused.
“Dr. Harris.”
Michael sat down hard.
I felt cold all over.
“Read it.”
Jake’s voice shook.
“Dear Margaret, the results confirm what we discussed. Under the circumstances, I strongly recommend that Susan not attempt another pregnancy until the family has been fully informed.”
My fingers went numb.
“What circumstances?”
“There’s more.”
Jake swallowed.
“The child’s test results indicate a hereditary abnormality that requires follow-up. Given the uncertainty regarding paternity, disclosure should be handled carefully.”
The room disappeared around me.
I heard Michael whisper,
“No.”
I stared at him.
“What did he say?”
Michael’s face had gone gray.
“Nothing.”
I stepped closer.
“What does ‘uncertainty regarding paternity’ mean?”
“Susan—”
“Answer me.”
He shook his head.
“I don’t know.”
Jake’s voice came through again.
“There’s another page.”
I looked back at the phone.
“What does it say?”
“It’s a lab report.”
He went silent.
“Jake?”
“I think it’s a paternity test.”
My knees weakened.
Michael stood up.
“That’s impossible.”
Jake continued.
“There are three names.”
“Whose?”
“Mine.”
He breathed shakily.
“Dad’s.”
Then he stopped.
“And?”
“Another man.”
Every memory from 2008 seemed to slam into me at once.
The affair.
Michael’s silence.
My mother’s anger.
The hospital.
The surgery.
The missing records.
The warnings.
The fear.
But one fact didn’t make sense.
“My affair happened when you were already a teenager.”
“I know,” Jake said.
“So that man can’t be the person I had the affair with.”
“No.”
I looked at Michael.
His eyes were fixed on the floor.
“Who is the third name?”
Jake read it.
“Daniel Mercer.”
The name hit me so hard I almost dropped the phone.
I knew Daniel.
But not from my affair.
Daniel had been Michael’s best friend when we were young.
He had stood beside Michael at our wedding.
He had disappeared from our lives shortly after Jake was born.
I hadn’t heard his name in more than twenty years.
Michael looked at me.
“Susan.”
“What?”
His voice broke.
“There’s something I never told you.”
I felt anger rise.
“Of course there is.”
“Daniel didn’t just disappear.”
“What happened to him?”
“He came to see me.”
“When?”
“When Jake was two.”
My heart pounded.
“What did he want?”
Michael stared at me.
“He told me Jake might be his son.”
I stopped breathing.
“That’s impossible.”
“I thought so too.”
“I never slept with Daniel.”
“I know.”
Those two words silenced me.
I whispered,
“What do you mean, you know?”
Michael rubbed his hands together nervously.
“Because Daniel never claimed you had.”
A chill ran through me.
“Then how could Jake possibly be his?”
Michael looked sick.
“He said there had been a mistake.”
“What kind of mistake?”
“He wouldn’t explain.”
Jake interrupted.
“There’s handwriting on the back of the test.”
“What does it say?”
He read slowly.
“Michael knows what happened at the clinic. If Susan learns the truth, she will never forgive any of us.”
I stared at my husband.
“What clinic?”
He didn’t answer.
“Michael.”
He stood up.
“I need air.”
I blocked the doorway.
“No.”
“Susan, move.”
“Not until you tell me what clinic.”
His jaw tightened.
“It was before Jake was born.”
My entire body went cold.
I searched my memory.
Then something surfaced.
A fertility clinic.
Michael and I had struggled to conceive for nearly two years.
We had gone through testing.
Procedures.
Appointments.
Medication.
Then suddenly, I became pregnant.
At the time, we had called it a miracle.
“You mean the fertility clinic?”
Michael nodded.
My hand went over my mouth.
“What happened there?”
“I don’t know exactly.”
“That’s a lie.”
“I swear.”
“Then why does Mom’s letter say you know?”
Michael’s eyes filled with tears.
“Because I knew there was a problem.”
“What problem?”
“They called me after you became pregnant.”
I could barely breathe.
“They said what?”
“That there had been a labeling error.”
The room seemed to tilt.
“A labeling error with what?”
Michael looked at me.
“With the samples.”
I stared at him.
“You told me everything was normal.”
“I panicked.”
“Did you know Jake might not be biologically yours?”
Michael looked at the floor.
“Yes.”
I felt something inside me break.
“You knew for his entire life?”
“I loved him from the moment he was born.”
“That isn’t what I asked.”
“Yes.”
Jake was silent on the phone.
Then he said,
“Dad… you knew?”
Michael covered his face.
“Yes.”
Jake’s voice cracked.
“And you never told me?”
“I was your father. That was all that mattered to me.”
“But somebody thought it mattered enough to test me.”
Michael looked at the phone.
“That was your grandmother.”
I shook my head.
“No. This still doesn’t explain my surgery.”
Michael looked at me.
“No.”
“Why would my mother stop me from having another child because of a clinic mistake?”
“I don’t know.”
Jake suddenly interrupted.
“Mom, there’s one more thing in the envelope.”
“What?”
“A photograph.”
My chest tightened.
“Of what?”
There was a long silence.
“Grandma.”
“And?”
“Dr. Harris.”
I waited.
“And another man.”
“Daniel?”
“No.”
“Who?”
Jake’s voice dropped.
“There’s a name written on the back.”
“What name?”
“Dr. Leonard Vale.”
Michael’s head snapped up.
I saw recognition immediately.
“You know him.”
Michael said nothing.
“Who is he?”
He backed toward the wall.
“Susan, listen to me.”
“Who is Leonard Vale?”
Michael’s voice was barely audible.
“He owned the fertility clinic.”
My skin prickled.
Jake spoke again.
“There’s a date written under the photo.”
“What date?”
“The day before Mom’s surgery in 2008.”
Nobody spoke.
Then Jake turned the photograph over again.
“There’s a message.”
“Read it.”
His voice shook.
“Margaret, we should have told Susan the truth the first time. If she gets pregnant again, we may not be able to hide what happened with Jake.”
My heart stopped.
Suddenly, the surgery wasn’t about my affair.
It wasn’t about Michael’s anger.
It wasn’t even about punishment.
Someone had made sure I could never become pregnant again because another pregnancy might expose what had happened when Jake was conceived.
I looked at Michael.
“Where is Dr. Vale now?”
Michael’s face turned white.
“I don’t know.”
Jake interrupted.
“I do.”
We both stared at the phone.
“How?”
“There’s an address inside the envelope.”
“Where?”
Jake read it slowly.
Then added,
“Mom… it’s only forty minutes from your house.”
I grabbed my coat.
Michael stepped toward me.
“Where are you going?”
“To ask him what he did to me.”
“Susan, you can’t just show up there.”
I opened the front door.
“Watch me.”
Then Jake shouted through the speaker.
“Mom, wait!”
I stopped.
“What?”
“There’s something else written below the address.”
I looked at the phone.
“What does it say?”
Jake went silent for several seconds.
Then he whispered,
“It says: ‘Susan must never meet Leonard alone.’”………..
TO BE CONTINUED IN LAST PART..
