Page 49 of Fool Me Twice

“I meant Jaxon.” Anya looked up at Evie, her eyes red and puffy. “I hate keeping things from him, but he can tell something’s wrong, and I just feel so bad about lying to him.”

“But you’re not lying to him.” Evie poured the water over her tea bag and added a couple of spoons of honey before joining Anya at the table. “You’re just not being completely honest with him.” Avoiding Anya’s eyes, she focused on the amber liquid swirling around and around in her cup.

Anya glared at her. “You’re putting me in an impossible situation, Evie. Jaxon is my husband and I don’t want there to be any secrets between us, but I don’t want to break my promise to you, either. And if he finds out from someone else, he’s going to be hurt and angry with both of us.” Her shoulders shook as tears streamed down her face.

She was right, and Evie couldn’t bear to see what all this was doing to Anya. “Okay.” She got up and walked over to her daughter-in-law, enveloping her in her arms. “I’ll tell him tomorrow,” she promised.

Anya yawned. Without the burden of the guilt and worry she’d been shouldering lately, it seemed sleep was finally calling, until, barely able to keep her eyes open, she went back to bed. But sleep still evaded Evie. Her mind whirred as she planned out all the ways she could break the news to Jaxon later that day.

The whole thing was such a mess. Not only was Jaxon’s mother pregnant with his sibling, but his father was also expecting his half-sibling with his second wife, who he’d been on the verge of divorcing before finding out she was pregnant. And don’t forget about Jaxon being conceived when his father was married to his first wife. It all sounded so sordid, like a tagline for one of those trashy talk shows where the guests threw punches at one another and most of the women had no idea who their “baby daddy” was.

Since the morning sickness had subsided, Evie had found herself filled with a restless energy that even a full day of classes couldn’t quench. Checking her watch for maybe the hundredth time, she realised it was still too early to call Jaxon, so instead she sent him a quick message asking him to call her when he had time. No rush, she’d added at the end. Nothing important.

Anya got up around lunchtime, telling Evie it was the best sleep she’d had in weeks. “Have you spoken to him?” she asked hopefully.

“I’ve left a message,” Evie replied, avoiding Anya’s gaze. “He’ll call when he’s got a chance.” She didn’t feel the need to mention how she’d played down the urgency of the call.

The sound of Evie’s phone ringing as they enjoyed a late lunch made them both jump. Evie bit her lip as she looked across the table at Anya, feeling like that nineteen-year-old all over again, remembering how hard it had been when she’d made the call home to tell her family she was pregnant. Get a grip, she told herself. She was a grown woman, for goodness sake, not some scared teenager.

Anya reached across the table and took her hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. Evie picked up the phone, a forced smile plastered on her face as she answered the call.

“Hey, Mum, what’s up?”

Dr Philips and his team were waiting for them as soon as they arrived, and whisked Shari into an examination room immediately. Peter had no idea who Shari’s OB-GYN was. Every time he’d asked about accompanying her to appointments and scans, she’d brushed him off and refused point blank to give him the name of her specialist.

After what felt like hours, Dr Philips stepped out into the corridor. The look on his face made Peter’s stomach lurch. “It’s bad news, isn’t it?”

The doctor placed his hand on Peter’s elbow and led him toward his office. “I think it’s better if we talk in private.”

During the short walk to his office, Peter tried to draw the doctor on how the baby was doing, but his silence and sidelong glances only reinforced Peter’s darkest fears – that something had happened to the baby.

Once inside the office, Dr Philips indicated that Peter should sit down.

Peter waved his hand, his stomach spasming. “I’d rather stand.”

“I think it would be better if you sat down,” Dr Philips repeated, his face unreadable.

“Just spit it out, Raymond,” Peter begged. “Is the baby okay?”

“I’m not sure how to say this,” he said, cupping his hand over his chin. “I’ve known you – and Shari – a long time...”

“For God’s sake, just tell me, will you?” He couldn’t bear it. If something had happened to the baby, he needed to know.

“There is no baby,” the doctor said. “We carried out an ultrasound, and I can say with one hundred per cent certainty that Shari isn’t pregnant.”

“But... how?” Peter desperately scrutinised the doctor’s face. “I don’t understand. Are you saying she’s had a miscarriage?”

“Possibly.” Dr Philips frowned as he considered Peter’s question. “I’m no expert, but my guess would be that if she did, it would have been very early on in the pregnancy.”

“Could it have been one of those phantom pregnancies?”

Dr Philips exhaled heavily. “Look, Peter, we go back a long way, don’t we?”

Peter nodded, struggling to take everything in.

“So, can I be absolutely honest with you?”

“Yes, of course.”

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