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Marcus could not move. His legs would not work. His brain would not work. Three children were running at him calling him daddy. The children reached the terrace. They crashed into Marcus and wrapped their arms around his legs. They hugged him tight. They were laughing and crying at the same time. “Daddy, we found you.
” The little girl said. “We looked everywhere.” One of the boys said. “Mama said we would meet you today.” The other boy said. Marcus looked down at their faces. He saw his own green eyes looking back at him. three times. He saw his nose, his chin, his smile. These were his children.
Rebecca’s champagne glass fell from her hand. It hit the stone patio and shattered into a hundred pieces. The sound was very loud in the silence. Rebecca stared at the three children hugging Marcus. She looked at their faces. She looked at Marcus’s face. She understood everything in one terrible second. “How old are they?” Rebecca whispered.
Marcus could not answer. His throat had closed completely. 6 years of marriage had felt like 600. Marcus thought about this as he sat at breakfast with Rebecca that morning before the party. They sat at opposite ends of their dining room table. Rebecca scrolled through her phone. Marcus read the newspaper. Neither of them spoke.
This was every morning. This was their life. “Your mother wants us there at 1:00,” Rebecca said without looking up. “The party starts at 1:00. She wants us to greet guests.” “Okay,” Marcus said. “Do not be late like last time.” “I will not be late.” Rebecca stood up. She took her coffee cup to the kitchen. Marcus heard her rinse it in the sink.
She came back and said, “I am going to get ready.” Okay. She left. Marcus sat alone at the table. The house was completely silent. This house that his mother bought for them. This house that never felt like a home. His phone buzzed. A reminder. Dr. Chen appointment. 300 p.m. Monday. Another fertility specialist. Another doctor who would run tests and say nothing was wrong.
This would be the fifth doctor in 5 years. Marcus deleted the reminder. He remembered the first time they went to a fertility doctor. Rebecca had been so hopeful. She sat in the waiting room holding Marcus’s hand. She said, “Maybe they can help us. Maybe there is something simple we are missing.” The doctor ran every test. Blood work, ultrasounds, genetic screening. Everything came back normal.
Mr. and Mrs. Richardson, I see no medical reason you cannot conceive, the doctor said. Sometimes stress can affect fertility. Are you under significant stress? Rebecca looked at Marcus. Marcus looked at the floor. Just normal work stress, Marcus lied. They tried three more doctors.
Every doctor said the same thing. Nothing is wrong medically. But Marcus knew the truth. You cannot build life on top of lies. You cannot create something real from something false. Rebecca knew something was wrong, too. She was not stupid. She watched Marcus carefully. She saw him staring out windows for hours. She heard him in his home office late at night.
One night, 3 months ago, Rebecca went downstairs at 2:00 in the morning. She needed water. She heard crying coming from Marcus’s office. She opened the door quietly. Marcus sat at his desk with his head in his hands. His shoulders shook. He was crying like someone had died. “Marcus,” Rebecca said softly. Marcus’ head snapped up. He wiped his face quickly.
“I am fine, just tired.” “You are not fine. You are crying. Work stuff. A deal fell through. It is nothing. Rebecca stood in the doorway. She said, “You [music] are lying to me. You have been lying to me for years. I do not know what about, but I know you are lying.” Rebecca, did you love someone before me? The question came out fast.
Rebecca had been holding it inside for a long time. Marcus looked at his wife. He opened his mouth. He could have told the truth right then. He could have said yes. He could have explained everything, but fear won again. “No,” Marcus said. “You are the only one.” Rebecca stared at him for a long moment. Then she said, “You are a terrible liar, Marcus.
” She left and closed the door. They never spoke about it again. Sunday dinners at Elizabeth’s estate were torture. Every single week, Elizabeth asked about grandchildren. Every single week, Marcus felt smaller. Two weeks before the party, Elizabeth served roasted chicken and potatoes. She looked at Rebecca and said, “Rebecca, dear, you are 32 now.
The clock is ticking. When will you give me grandchildren?” Rebecca’s fork stopped halfway to her mouth. She put it down carefully. “We are trying, Elizabeth.” “Trying is not good enough. Other families have grandchildren. Margaret’s daughter just had twins. My own son cannot give me one grandchild. Mother, Marcus said quietly. Stop.
I am simply asking reasonable questions. I want grandchildren before I die. Is that too much to ask? Rebecca [music] stood up. Excuse me, I need to use the bathroom. She left the table. Elizabeth looked at Marcus. What is wrong with her? You are being cruel, Marcus said. I am being honest. Maybe if you tried harder. We have tried, Marcus shouted.
He never shouted at his mother. Elizabeth’s eyes went wide. We have tried for 5 years. We have seen five doctors. There is nothing wrong medically. So maybe the problem is not Rebecca. Maybe the problem is this family. Maybe the problem is you. Marcus threw his napkin on the table and left. He drove to a bar in Stamford.
He ordered whiskey and drank too much. He thought about destiny. He always thought about Destiny when he drank. He pulled out his phone. He scrolled through his contacts. He had deleted Destiny’s number years ago, but he still remembered it. His fingers moved without thinking. He typed the number. His finger hovered over the call button.
If he pressed it, everything would change. He could apologize. He could explain. He could ask if she forgave him. But what if she did not answer? What if she did? What would he even say? Marcus deleted the number and ordered another drink. The morning of his mother’s 60th birthday party, Marcus woke up early. Rebecca was already awake.
She sat at her vanity applying makeup. Marcus watched her from the bed. Rebecca,” he said. “Yes.” “Are you happy?” Rebecca’s hand stopped. She looked at Marcus in the mirror. What kind of question is that? A real one. Are you happy in this marriage? Rebecca put down her makeup brush. She turned around.
Why are you asking me this now? Your mother’s party is in 4 hours. I just need to know. Rebecca was quiet for a long time. Then she said, “No, Marcus, I am not happy. I have not been happy for a long time. But I do not know how to leave. This is all I know.” Marcus nodded. He felt sad but not surprised. “Are you happy?” Rebecca asked.
“No,” Marcus said. They got dressed in silence. Marcus put on his dark gray suit. He tied his tie. He looked at himself in the bathroom mirror. The man staring back looked successful and empty. They drove to the estate separately. Rebecca went early to help Elizabeth. Marcus arrived at 12:30. The lawn was already full of guests, white tents, string quartet, waiters carrying champagne.
Marcus’s college friend, James, found him near the bar. Marcus, how are you? Fine, Marcus lied. You look terrible, man. When was the last time you slept? I sleep fine. James lowered his voice. Do you ever think about Destiny? Marcus’s whole body went stiff. What? Destiny Williams, you remember? You dated her for 2 years.
Then you just disappeared. We all wondered what happened. That was a long time ago. I saw her on LinkedIn last month. She made partner at some law firm in Boston. She looks good. Happy. Marcus felt something twist in his chest. Good for her. You should reach out. Apologize for whatever happened. I cannot do that.
Why not? Because I am a coward, Marcus thought. But he said, “It is too late.” At 2:00, Elizabeth took the microphone on the terrace. She gave her speech. She talked about making the right choices. She made her comment about grandchildren. Everyone laughed. Then they heard the helicopter. Marcus looked up at the sky.
He had no idea that everything was about to change. He had no idea that the past he buried was landing on his mother’s front lawn. Marcus’s legs gave out. He fell to his knees on the stone patio. The three children held on to him tighter. They did not understand why the adults around them looked so shocked.
They only knew they found their daddy. Five, Marcus whispered. His voice barely worked. They are 5 years old. Rebecca stepped back. Her face had gone from white to gray. 5 years old. We have been married for 5 years. The math was simple. Terrible and simple. Marcus had gotten someone pregnant and then married Rebecca. He had children he never told her about.
“Who are you?” Rebecca asked. Her voice shook. She was looking at Destiny. Now, Destiny walked up the terrace steps. She moved slowly and calmly. She wore her white dress and held her head high. She looked directly at Rebecca. “My name is Destiny Williams,” she said. “I am sorry you had to find out this way.