Shades of Trust

by Cristiane Serruya

  “This has nothing to do with allies or enemies. We wanted a baby.”

  Tavish rolled his eyes at his brother. “You’re no’ making sense. So if you both wanted a child, she is pregnant; there is nothing wrong so far…what’s the problem, Alistair Connor?”

  They will all know anyway. No matter my decision. Alistair pinched the bridge of his nose. Explain it and end the subject. That’s what you need: the closure of truth. He saw no more reason to withhold the truth. Somberly, he said, “I can’t have children, Tavish Uilleam.”

  The agony in Alistair’s voice sliced the air and the temperature in Dr. Merkel’s office room plunged a few degrees.

  “I doona understand.”

  “You will,” Alistair stated, sitting straight and facing his brother. As he did with Sophia, he told Tavish what had happened all those years ago.

  “Easy, easy.” John put his hands on her shaking shoulders. “Sophia, listen to me.”

  “I can’t be pregnant. This result is wrong,” she repeated and sobbed, looking at him with stormy eyes.

  “Drink slowly and calm yourself.” John gave her a glass of water. “I can assure you the result is correct. I checked it myself twice. From now on you have a baby to think of. Sometimes miracles happen when you least expect them. No one believes that more than I do. I see it every day, my dear.”

  “By miracle, do you mean Alistair Connor is cured?” Sophia wiped her face with the back of her hands and accepted a box of tissues John offered her. “Of sterility? Of a permanent, irreversible inability to have children? Or do you mean that his condition was just a temporary problem?”

  John looked at Sophia’s distressed face, as fresh tears formed again in her eyes. “Sophia, don’t cry. I’ve seen this happens many times. The word infertile doesn’t mean sterile, but sometimes the ones involved don’t understand it; they can’t hear it correctly because they’ve had so many tragedies in their lives, they can no longer believe in their desire. They abort and sterilize any chance of hope. It is sad, but true. When something like that happens, people get confused. Alistair is having a normal reaction. If you’re pregnant, and you only had sex with Alistair; he was probably diagnosed with infertility, which is not sterility. He just understood differently.”

  “Is it possible? Is it possible he wasn’t sterile? That I am pregnant?” She put a trembling hand over her stomach, and dared to believe in John’s words. With a sigh that came from deep within her chest, she asked, “He would want to be sure. I would want him to be sure. How long does it take to do the test?”

  “Male infertility is usually better diagnosed by semen analysis. A relatively simple test. Alistair provides a semen sample. We measure the amount of semen and the number, shape, and movement of sperm. Ideally, the test should be performed twice to confirm the results but I can assure you that with only one test, I can give you a decisive result. I’ll put a rush on it and in an hour we’ll have the result. I can bet Alistair was diagnosed with infertility and thought it was sterility.”

  “He is so certain he’s sterile.” Doubt spread in her mind. “Will he do it?”

  “I’m not trying to find excuses for his behavior, but if he was so sure of his condition, the pregnancy news must have been a shock. Your husband is a stubborn man but he loves you, Sophia.” John put the glass away. “Now. I need your promise to be calm.”

  Please, God, make him see the truth and realize he was mistaken. Sophia nodded. “I will.”

  As soon as John left the room, Edward came in.

  Oh, dear! How can I explain all this mess? She closed her eyes when he sat on the chair next to her and took her hand between his.

  “You don’t need to say a word to me, love. You’re my friend and I’m here for you. Whatever you need, I’m here for you,” he reinforced his promise, squeezing her hand gently.

  Oh, Edward. Sophia opened her eyes, gazing into his kind, friendly blue eyes. “Thank you, Edward.”

  “Now, she is pregnant…and…I am starting to doubt myself,” Alistair said to his brother. “I…I wish—How long does it take to know if I am fertile?” Oh, Christ.

  “Mycoplasma is not known to cause sterility, but there have been few studies.” Tavish pierced Alistair with a grave look. “You surely don’t believe she was with another man. We are talking about Sophia. Failing to trust and believe in her doesn’t—”

  “Nae. I don’t want to believe she chea—” He didn’t want even to think of this possibility. He didn’t want to doubt his wife. Out of control, he jumped from the chair and paced the room, looking like an enraged panther ready to pounce. It’s myself I should doubt. It’s I that have been cheating on her, on me, on us. “I’ve been so certain of my incapacity, for so long.”

  “Do a test. It won’t hurt,” Tavish said simply.

  The news of her pregnancy had come as a visceral shock that was still reverberating through his body and soul. He wanted so much to be happy, but he was so afraid, he hated himself. Alistair Connor, do the test. Why are you always bypassing real proof? Dwelling in your imagination won’t change reality. The sooner you discover you’re fertile, the sooner you can apologize for your irrational behavior and enjoy the happiness of being able to be a father again.

  John knocked on the door and entered the room, looking at the brothers.

  The words left Alistair’s mouth before he could think. “John, could you arrange for a sperm test?”

  5:41 p.m.

  “MacCraig.” Edward was leaning on the threshold of the waiting room, his arms crossed over his chest.

  Alistair and Tavish turned their heads to look at him.

  Edward waved a small piece of paper in the air. “Sophia has left a message for you.”

  A message? Where is she? “What?” Alistair advanced in Edward’s direction with two long strides. “Give me this.”

  Edward looked at him through narrowed eyes. “She is pregnant with your child. Four weeks.”

  Quickly in his mind, he remembered her last period and did the math. Alistair winced. It was conceived near my birthday.

  Edward turned to leave, stopped and looked back. “By the way, she went home with Steven and Zareb about fifteen minutes ago.”

  What?! Alistair whirled around. “You shouldn’t have—”

  “Do you think I care?” Edward scolded in a low voice. “Besides, she went by her own will. She wanted to talk with you. She waited and waited. You were doing the exam. You’d rather have an exam result than believe in her. She is hurting. Too much. Sophia is my friend—”

  “Sophia. Is. My. Wife. Don’t you dare—” He towered over Edward, who didn’t move from his place.

  Edward’s eyes flashed. “I dare. She loves you and she doesn’t deserve this. Try to behave like a caring husband, MacCraig.”

  The discussion was stopped by Tavish, who tugged at Alistair’s sleeve. “This is not the place, nor the time.” He pulled again and looked over his shoulder at Edward. “Thank you for taking care of Sophia.”

  “My pleasure.” Edward smirked and whirled away, leaving Alistair even more regretful of his actions.

  6:17 p.m.

  “She is right, you know?” muttered Tavish. “You’re a caveman.”

  I know. And I love it when she calls me that. “Don’t start defending her,” he said without much conviction, loosening his tie.

  “Oh, nae, Sophia doesn’t need defending. You do. From yourself.” He frowned, musing. “Understand that thinking you were sterile might have been a Freudian slip. Now that you’ve been proven wrong, you’re too afraid to appreciate it? Live, Alistair Connor. Live, and let yourself be happy.”

  Alistair sarcastically raised an eyebrow. “You believe in miracles?”

  “I’m alive, aren’t I?” was Tavish’s answer.

  Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. How insensitive! He put a hand over his brother’s. “Aye, and we all thank God for it, Brother.”

  Tavish nodded in appreciation but forged on, “You’ve failed to realize t
hat your union and your love sparked the desire to create a life without trying to control everything. That’s why you didn’t even consider being tested on your first appointment with John.”

  “Seems I’ve been failing to do many things.” Alistair sat in the waiting room, massaging his temples. It hurt even to think. What is she going to say? Should I go home? Will she let me in? The next question was out of his mouth before he could stop it. “Will she forgive me?”

  “Everyone has problems once in a while, Brother. But love has to be stronger than the problems. It’s up to her to decide, but if you’re asking my opinion, she will accept you back,” Tavish said seriously, and then his mouth twisted up. “She doesn’t think she is perfect. I’m sure she doesn’t mind your many imperfections!”

  “Many, huh?” Alistair scowled at his brother.

  “Well…” Tavish’s lips opened in a smile. “If I start counting, we could be here a while.” But his smiles never lasted long since his return from Afghanistan. He was serious once more, when in a wistful tone, he rasped, “Love is patient and kind. It gives us space to look deep inside our souls. It cures. You needed healing, Alistair Connor.”

  Aye, I needed healing.

  “I must say,” Tavish continued, “you’ve just begun the process—” He stopped when he saw the poker-faced mask descend over Alistair’s features as he took out his iPhone from his suit.

  It was John’s cell phone number.

  “MacCraig,” he answered, flickering his eyes up to his brother before fixing it on the white ceiling.

  “Alistair, would you care to come over to talk?”

  “John, as ever, you’re so kind, but I won’t disturb you anymore today. You can give me the results over the phone.”

  “Well, then. Congratulations, Alistair, you’re fully recovered. You’re fertile.”

  Atwood House

  7:13 p.m.

  Sophia was not easily angered and she kept no record of grudges, but she was feeling so wronged by Alistair that the hours had passed in a blur of pain. She had reasoned with herself that it wouldn’t be a normal reaction for her husband to wait placidly for John to explain that there was a possibility that he could be the father—or for her to reassure him she had never betrayed him, which she could have done but was too shocked to even think of.

  She had talked to her image in the mirror and had tried to distract herself a bit with Gabriela, but the pounding ache was there, pumping in the rhythm of her heart.

  She had sought refuge in the shadows of the Indonesian bed they bought during their honeymoon. Tears stung her eyes as she remembered how they had chosen its place, in one of the corners of the terrace, laughing naughtily and planning elaborate sex scenes, only to tumble there full of lust and do it missionary style.

  Covered by a warm blanket, Sophia curled up into the silk fluffy cushions, and let the tears come again.

  7:39 p.m.

  Alistair didn’t know how he had finished the call, or what he had talked about with Tavish, or how his car had ended up inside their garage. What was worse, he didn’t have the faintest idea what he was going to say or how his wife was going to react.

  The mere idea of losing her was crippling.

  All he knew was that he had never been so mannerless, rude, and to top it off, unfair in his whole life and that he needed to rectify his error.

  I can’t lose her. I can’t lose them.

  Them!

  When he realized the size of the consequences of what he had done, its venom burned down and cut straight into his stomach.

  Alistair’s large frame filled the terrace glass doors, shadowing the light that came through their room.

  It’s not just Sophia.

  It’s Sophia, Gabriela, and our baby.

  My family.

  The reclining chairs were empty, as were the chairs around the table. He had looked all over the house and when he didn’t find her on the shadowed terrace, he almost despaired. The soft movement of the curtains around the Indonesian bed reminded him of her new favorite reading place.

  He threw his coat, tie, and jacket on the armchair, and rolling up his sleeves, he crossed the terrace quietly.

  The sight of Sophia sleeping just made him forget what he had planned to say in those last minutes since he started looking for her.

  “So beautiful,” he whispered.

  He assessed her in the soft light that dangled from the center of the bed.

  Her face was still wet with tears, which he wished were for joy, but he was aware were caused by the pain he had inflicted.

  All at once, he felt an acrid contempt against himself clog his throat. You’re an ass, Alistair Connor. An ass.

  Sophia opened her eyes, startled, the minute Alistair’s hands touched her.

  He froze, unsure.

  She pushed his hands aside and shifted away from him, pushing herself deeper into the cushions. “Good evening, Alistair Connor.” Oh, you think it’s that easy?

  He would have gotten nearer, but her quiet hurt look held him back.

  This is going to be harder than you expected. He’d never heard her use that icy tone before. Alistair looked down into her pained and accusing eyes and reminded himself that however hurtful her remarks could be, he was the one in the wrong. He sat on the edge of the bed. “Sophia.” Please, forgive me.

  A long silence ensued between them as he thought of what he should say; how he should start apologizing.

  He looked away from her gaze as Sophia’s eyes sought his and delved in. What she read there he couldn’t tell. Despite it all, he was conscious that behind all the torment, he admired her for standing her ground; something he’d never thought he could feel for a woman.

  Nonetheless, it wasn’t the admiration she saw, but the tortured emotions which brewed in the depths of his eyes. “So, you came back.” For what?

  You’re my haven, my heaven. “Aye. This is our home.” Isn’t it?

  And what do you mean by that? “Tread carefully, Alistair Connor, very carefully.” You don’t want to say the wrong thing.

  Sophia was no doubt still reeling from the discovery that she was in the early stages of pregnancy and trying to come to terms with that information.

  As was he. To add to his shock, he, who was sure he was sterile, was the father.

  Your feelings were not the ones hurt. Get over the shock and set this straight. He steeled himself for what could happen. She has the right to say whatever she wants. “I’ve come back to ask for your forgiveness. I’m sorry, Sophia. So very sorry.” He searched her eyes. “I should have—”

  “Ah. Yes. You should have. But you didn’t.” Sophia straightened, her chin lifting fractionally.

  The moment stretched, charged thickly with unspoken doubts and arguments. She was challenging him and she would not back down.

  She knew it.

  He knew it.

  “Could you try to put yourself in my shoes?” he asked, as fear and misery clawed at his soul. I’m going to lose her if I don’t do something to make this right.

  She pressed the heels of her hands against her stinging eyes. She didn’t want to cry in front of him. “I’ve tried. Have you ever stopped to put yourself in my shoes?”

  Nae. I’m sorry for it. “I love you, Sophia,” he breathed. “I would never do anything to hurt you on purpose.”

  “Don’t you get it, Alistair Connor?” she whispered. “You did hurt me. In the worst possible way. I’m pregnant and the child is yours.”

  I’m pregnant and the child is yours. Her statement was exactly what he’d unconsciously wanted to hear since the day she walked into his life, but never in a thousand years did he expect her to say it in this bitter tone as if she didn’t want the baby. Things were escalating out of control.

  “How could you have thought it otherwise?” The heartache was so fierce that Sophia’s tears couldn’t be held in check anymore. “How, Alistair Connor, how? It makes me not know what to believe in anymore.”

 
; “Believe in me. Believe in us,” his voice was throaty. He couldn’t stand being frozen in place anymore. He scooted closer, cornering her.

  She pulled her legs against her chest as if protecting the baby and wiped her cheeks with the back of her hands. “It’s not so easy.”

  His eyes caught hers. His stare rooted her. But he was the one imprisoned by her eyes when she gazed back at him.

  “To believe, Alistair Connor, trust is needed. When you walked out of the hospital room, you took away with you the very trust that love is built on. What about the so many promises you have made to me since we married?”

  “I will renew them. However many times needed.” He gently framed her wet face. “Believe in this new life we have magically created, because I believe in you.”

  She forced her gaze to remain on his face. Just his light touch made her want to yield to his plea. “What were you thinking?” Don’t tell me.

  “I wasn’t thinking at all,” he answered truthfully, his thumbs drying her tears. “If I had been thinking, just a bit, I would have done the same thing I did with the photos sent to my mobile; when you told me you had been to Ethan’s suite to talk to him. If I had been thinking at all, Sophia, I would have tried to reason it all with you. What I am trying to do now.” I was held in between times, in a world of tears and pain where I usually drowned. “It’s difficult, Sophia, to believe in hope when hope sometimes is all you have. But I did. I asked to be tested because I believed in you and I wanted to believe in me. In spite of all my demons, my hope survived.”

  That made her tears stop. She blinked at him. He can’t make his way all alone. We have to go home hand-in-hand. Each one feeling and empathizing with what the other has.

  Alistair saw her hesitate and he picked her up, nestling her on his chest. He put his hand on her stomach and closed his eyes, wistfully wanting to feel the baby, but knowing it was much too soon.

  She struggled for a moment, but quieted when he loosened his hold on her. She faced him with unwavering resolution, but inside the circle of his arms. “We won’t solve it all with sex and empty promises, Alistair Connor. This has become quite serious.”