Chapter 4 - The Day Julian Saw the Twins
I agreed to meet Chloe in a coffee shop forty miles away from Cedar Hollow.
Not because I trusted her.
I didn't.
Not because I forgave her.
I certainly didn't.
I went because after six years of people deciding what I deserved to know, I was finished turning away from uncomfortable truths.
Chloe sat in a booth near the back window.
She wore no makeup.
Her blond hair was tied loosely at the base of her neck, and the expensive diamond necklace I'd once seen Julian purchase on our credit card was gone.
She looked younger than I remembered.
And terrified.
I slid into the booth across from her.
“You have ten minutes.”
She flinched.
“I deserve that.”
“No. You deserve considerably less. Ten minutes is what I'm willing to give you.”
Her eyes filled.
I refused to feel sorry for her.
“You slept with my husband.”
“Yes.”
“While he was taking me to fertility appointments.”
“Yes.”
“You knew we were married.”
“Yes.”
“Then don't start this conversation by trying to become another victim of Julian Mercer.”
“I won't.”
That surprised me.
Chloe wrapped both hands around a mug she wasn't drinking from.
“He told me you two hadn't really been married for years.”
I nearly laughed.
“We ate dinner together every night.”
“He said you lived like roommates.”
“We were trying to have a child.”
“I know that now.”
“You knew enough then.”
She lowered her eyes.
“You're right.”
For several seconds, I simply watched her.
There was something strangely freeing about hearing the woman who helped destroy my marriage admit she had no excuse.
No elaborate justification.
No story about destiny.
She had made a selfish decision.
So had Julian.
“What did you mean on the phone?” I asked.
She inhaled.
“When I told Julian I was pregnant, he was thrilled.”
“He told me.”
“He immediately started talking about leaving you.”
My nails pressed into my palm.
“I asked him not to do it that way.”
“How thoughtful.”
Chloe accepted the insult.
“Then three weeks ago, I found a medical report in his desk.”
I didn't react.
“He has a fertility problem.”
“Yes.”
Her head snapped up.
“You know?”
“I know now.”
“He said the report was old.”
“That's what he told me too.”
Chloe swallowed.
“My doctor estimated conception during a week Julian was out of town.”
The air seemed to shift.
She continued.
“I'd been seeing someone else before Julian.”
“You were seeing two men?”
She looked ashamed.
“Yes.”
“Does the other man know?”
“No.”
“Why are you telling me?”
“Because Julian knows there is a possibility.”
That made me pause.
“How?”
“He found messages.”
“When?”
“Two days ago.”
“What happened?”
Chloe's lower lip trembled.
“He changed.”
I stared at her.
“How?”
“He started asking me to sign documents.”
“What documents?”
“An agreement saying he had financially supported me and that certain assets belonged to me independently.”
My legal instincts didn't exist.
But after several weeks with Rebecca, alarm bells did.
“Did you sign?”
“No.”
“He got angry.”
“How angry?”
“He told me if I embarrassed him, he'd ruin me.”
I sat back.
The man Chloe described was not new.
Only her understanding of him was.
Julian had never needed to threaten me directly.
He had controlled me through guilt.
Through money.
Through medical information.
Through my desire to preserve our marriage.
Now that Chloe was resisting him, the mask was coming off faster.
“I can't help you,” I said.
“I know.”
“Then why am I here?”
She reached into her purse and removed a flash drive.
“I copied some files from Julian's office.”
I didn't touch it.
“What files?”
“Transfers. Contracts. Emails.”
“Why?”
“Because after I refused to sign those papers, he told his accountant to move everything before the divorce hearing.”
My stomach tightened.
“Everything?”
“That's what he said.”
I stood.
“I need to call my lawyer.”
Chloe looked up.
“Emma.”
I stopped.
“I'm sorry.”
I didn't answer immediately.
Part of me wanted to destroy her with words.
To tell her exactly what her apology was worth.
But I realized something.
For months, I had imagined Julian and Chloe living inside some perfect future built from my humiliation.
Seeing her now changed that image.
Julian hadn't chosen Chloe because she was better than me.
He had chosen the life that made him feel powerful.
And now she was discovering the cost.
“I believe you're sorry,” I said.
Hope flickered in her face.
“But being sorry doesn't erase what you did.”
It disappeared.
“I know.”
I left.
Rebecca nearly exploded when she heard about the flash drive.
“You did not take it?”
“No.”
“Thank God.”
“I told Chloe her attorney should arrange a legal transfer.”
Rebecca nodded approvingly.
“You're learning.”
“Unfortunately.”
The next week moved fast.
Chloe hired independent counsel.
Financial information reached Rebecca through formal channels.
And the story hidden underneath Julian's success became uglier.
Mercer Development had legitimate business.
But Julian had also created shell companies.
He had moved marital funds.
He had obscured payments.
He had used company resources to maintain the affair.
Most disturbing of all, North Valley Fertility had received unusually large “consulting payments” from a Mercer-affiliated entity during the period when my husband's medical report had disappeared.
Rebecca stared at the transaction sheet.
“This is what Garrison suspected.”
I turned.
Garrison stood by the office window.
“You knew?”
“I knew the clinic administrator had accepted improper payments from multiple patients who wanted records altered.”
“And Julian was one of them.”
“I couldn't prove that at the time.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because suspicion isn't proof.”
I rubbed my forehead.
“Was my medical treatment based on falsified records?”
Garrison's expression hardened.
“We don't know yet.”
That terrified me more than anything.
The next blow came from Julian himself.
He requested a meeting.
Rebecca advised me to refuse.
I agreed.
Then Julian showed up at my workplace.
I was leaving the small architectural firm where I managed office operations when I found him leaning against a black Mercedes.
“You look different,” he said.
I stopped several feet away.
“So do you.”
He smiled.
It was the smile he used when he wanted people to believe nothing bothered him.
“I hear you've been busy.”
“My lawyer told you not to contact me directly.”
“Rebecca Sloan enjoys creating drama.”
“No, Julian. You created the drama. She invoices by the hour for organizing it.”
His smile disappeared.
“Very funny.”
“What do you want?”
“I want to settle.”
“Talk to Rebecca.”
“I'm talking to my wife.”
“Ex-wife eventually.”
That bothered him.
I could see it.
“I'll give you the house.”
I stared at him.
The house he had locked me out of.
The house he'd insisted was largely his because Mercer Development funds had paid the mortgage.
“And?”
“Two hundred fifty thousand dollars.”
I almost smiled.
Three months earlier, I would have considered that life-changing money.
Now I knew our marital estate was worth several million.
“What do you want in exchange?”
“You sign a confidentiality agreement.”
“There it is.”
“You stop digging into business records.”
“No.”
His jaw tightened.
“You don't understand what Garrison is doing.”
“What is he doing?”
“Using you.”
I laughed.
“That's interesting coming from you.”
“You know nothing about that man.”
“Then tell me.”
Julian glanced around the parking lot.
“He has enemies.”
“Successful investigators often do.”
His eyes narrowed.
“So he told you?”
“A little.”
“He's not some retired country sheriff.”
“I figured that out.”
“You think he's helping because he's kind?”
“Maybe kindness is confusing to you.”
Julian stepped closer.
“Emma, walk away.”
“From what?”
“From this fight.”
“Why?”
“You'll get hurt.”
I met his eyes.
“That threat would be more convincing if I hadn't already survived being married to you.”
His face darkened.
“You think you're powerful because Blackwood is standing behind you?”
“No.”
I stepped closer.
“I think I'm powerful because I finally stopped standing behind you.”
I walked away.
My knees shook once I reached my car.
But I didn't look back.
That evening, Garrison was repairing a section of fence when I returned to the farmhouse.
He had given me the upstairs guest room without ever mentioning rent.
I had insisted on paying something.
He had finally accepted exactly one dollar per month.
According to him, that made me a tenant instead of a charity case.
According to me, it made him ridiculous.
I approached him.
“Julian says you're using me.”
Garrison kept working.
“To accomplish what?”
“He didn't specify.”
“Poor strategy.”
“He says you have enemies.”
“True.”
I waited.
He sighed.
“You want the long version?”
“I want the honest version.”
Garrison placed the hammer down.
“When I was sheriff, I uncovered a contracting network involving county officials, medical providers, developers, and political donors.”
“Mercer Development?”
“Not originally.”
“But Julian became connected.”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“By buying distressed properties tied to some of those people.”
I stared at him.
“And the fertility clinic?”
“One administrator helped wealthy clients manipulate records for insurance, divorce proceedings, surrogacy disputes, and other reasons.”
My stomach turned.
“You think Julian paid to alter his fertility report.”
“I think he paid to hide it.”
“Why?”
Garrison looked directly at me.
“That question keeps bothering me.”
The answer arrived sooner than either of us expected.
Two days later, Rebecca obtained old insurance correspondence.
Julian had known about his diagnosis before we married.
Before the injections.
Before the procedures.
Before the years of watching me blame myself.
He had concealed the truth because his mother's family trust contained a provision rewarding biological descendants with controlling shares in a private investment company.
Children weren't just important to Julian.
They were financially valuable.
And when I couldn't become pregnant naturally, he had needed everyone to believe the problem was mine.
I sat in Rebecca's office staring at the trust documents.
“He let me destroy myself because he wanted inheritance money?”
Rebecca spoke softly.
“We still have to establish motive.”
But I knew.
I knew the man I had married.
That evening, I made the biggest decision of my life.
I called Dr. Keller.
“I want to proceed.”
“With treatment?”
“Yes.”
“Are you certain you're ready?”
I looked through Garrison's kitchen window.
Duke was sleeping near the porch.
Autumn leaves moved across the yard.
For the first time, I wasn't thinking about giving a husband children.
I wasn't thinking about Julian's mother.
I wasn't thinking about proving anything.
I was thinking about myself.
About the life I had almost been convinced I didn't deserve.
“Yes,” I said.
“I'm ready.”
Three months later, I stood alone in a clinic restroom in Boston and stared at two pink lines.
I laughed.
Then I cried.
Then I laughed again.
Dr. Keller confirmed the pregnancy with a blood test.
Two weeks later, she turned the ultrasound monitor toward me.
“I see something.”
I gripped the edge of the table.
“A heartbeat?”
She smiled.
“Two.”
I stared at her.
“What?”
“Emma, you're pregnant with twins.”
My entire world stopped.
I covered my mouth.
For years, I had imagined hearing that I was pregnant.
I had never imagined hearing it twice in the same sentence.
Outside the examination room, Garrison was waiting.
He stood when he saw me.
I couldn't speak.
So I held up two fingers.
For once, Garrison Blackwood lost his famous composure.
His eyes widened.
“Two?”
I nodded.
He laughed.
A full, stunned, joyful laugh I had never heard before.
And six months after Julian left me believing he had taken my future with him, I placed both hands over the beginning of two new lives.
But Julian hadn't yet seen me pregnant.
He didn't know.
May you like
And when he finally did, the twins wouldn't be the only surprise waiting for him.
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