Page 101 of The Rejected Wife

I run my fingers through my hair, glancing down at the scrubs someone loaned me. They’re tight around the shoulders and chest and short in length, but they’ll have to do for now. The doctor returns. She’s wearing a puzzled expression.

I rise to my feet, Priscilla with me. "Is everything okay?" she asks.

The doctor looks between the three of us. "Neither Mr. Davenport nor Ms. Bolton’s blood is compatible with the patient’s blood type."

"Is that a problem?" I frown.

"Serene’s blood type is AB. One of the parents should be compatible with hers, but neither are."

My heart begins a slow thud. "I had a DNA test done; I’m definitely Serene’s father," I point out.

"I gave birth to her. I have the hospital paperwork to prove it." Lauren's mouth pinches into a thin line.

"Uh, I… My blood type is AB," Priscilla offers. "I’m sure, it’s only a coincidence, but this should help, right?"

"Yes." The doctor’s face shows her relief. "If you’ll come with me, Mrs. Davenport, we’ll test your blood and make sure you’re compatible."

Priscilla squeezes my arm, then follows the doctor down the corridor.

I stare after them, trying to piece together this new information. "Neither your blood nor mine is compatible with Serene’s, but the genetic testing confirms that I'm Serene’s father." I turn to her. "Which means… You’re not her mother."

Lauren swallows. Something in her expression has the hair on the nape of my neck rising. She sits down heavily one chair down from me. "I gave birth to her; I didn’t lie about that."

"But?"

She shakes her head. "But nothing."

I rise to my feet, knowing I’ll loom over her. Knowing I’ll come across as threatening when I stand opposite her. "Don’t lie. You’ve done enough to disrupt Serene’s life. The least you can do is come clean now."

Sinclair, who’s been on the phone at the other end of the corridor, walks over to join us. "Everything okay?" he asks in a low voice.

"Lauren was about to explain why she's not Serene’s biological mother."

"I… I did give birth to her," she says, hunching her shoulders. "But it was through IVF."

"What do you mean?" I jerk back.

"You have to understand, I have wanted to be a mother since I was sixteen. I always thought I’d end up with a brood of them. That I’d have a family of my own. But when I turned thirty and broke up with my long-term boyfriend, all of my hopes of becoming a mother seemed so far away. I decided to go ahead on my own. That’s when I discovered I couldn’t conceive naturally. My eggs weren’t any good. I was desperate. I had to find a way. I had a successful career, I was making good money, but my life was so empty. I knew if I didn’t find a way to have a child I would never be happy." She wrings her hands.

“Is there a point to this story?” I ask through gritted teeth.

"I arranged for donor eggs and donor sperm. I bought them about five years ago, but I kept putting it off." She looks away. "Eventually, I went through with it. They created the embryo and transferred it into me. First try, I was pregnant."

"You used my donor sperm?" I force the words out, my throat burning like it's full of glass.

She used my sperm. Goddamn.

I knew it. I knew I’d remember every woman I ever slept with. I'd been driving myself crazy, trying to figure out if I'd met Lauren before — and coming up blank. A weight I didn’t even know I was carrying slides off my shoulders.

"You donated sperm?" Sinclair asks.

I nod shortly. "Yeah. When I was twenty-one. Two of my buddies and I saw an ad while we were on a break from bootcamp."

"Andyoudid it?"

I rub the back of my neck. "They did it for the money. I did it to keep them company. Figured maybe it would help someone." I drop my hand. My voice hardens. "How did you even find me?" I glare at her. "It was supposed to be anonymous."

She pops a shoulder. "Amazing the kind of information money can get you."

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