I wasn’t going to beg this time.
I forwarded it to Aaron. No subject line. No message. Just the attachment.
He was on the porch within the hour.
I opened the door and stayed in the frame. I did not invite him in.
“Please let me hold him.”
“Elena.” His voice broke on my name. “Elena, I am so sorry. I am so, so sorry.”
“You saw the file.”
“I saw it. I read it four times.”
“Good.”
“Please. Please let me hold him. Let me come home.”
“Call Michael.”
I looked at Aaron. He was crying openly.
“Aaron, one question. Answer it honestly.”
“Anything.”
“Then why does our son have Michael’s birthmark?”
“Start with the birthmark.”
His face went blank. Whatever apology he’d rehearsed died in his throat.
“Call Michael.”
“What?”
“You heard me. Call him.”
“Elena, I don’t even know what I’m asking.”
“Then start with the birthmark.”
For a moment, he didn’t move. I held out my hand.
“Give me the phone.”
That did it. Aaron pulled it from his pocket and called.
“Tell him yes.”
Michael answered on the third ring.
“Aaron?”
“That birthmark,” Aaron said. “The one on your back. Where did you get it?”
Silence. Then Michael exhaled.
“Is the baby there?”
“You need to come over.”
I looked at Aaron. “Tell him yes.”
Aaron swallowed.
“Yes.”
