Chapter 2 - The Woman He Had Called a Liar
Nolan left his own family Christmas lunch forty-three minutes later.
Claire did not go with him.
That surprised him.
Not because he expected support, but because Claire had always been practical. When something complicated happened, she usually wanted every fact before making a decision.
Instead, she stood beside the library door and said, “You need to see her alone.”
Nolan looked at her.
“Claire—”
“I’m not saying I’m okay.”
“I know.”
“I’m saying if those children are yours, this conversation existed before I did.”
Her composure hurt more than anger might have.
“You deserve an explanation.”
“Yes.”
“And I’ll give you one.”
“When you actually have one.”
Claire looked at her engagement ring.
Then added quietly, “Don’t lie to me again.”
“I didn’t mean—”
“You told me that woman was nothing.”
Nolan had no defense.
Claire left the library.
Five minutes later, Nolan told his mother there was a business emergency.
His grandmother Eleanor laughed from across the room.
“Nonsense.”
Everyone turned.
Eleanor took a sip of wine.
“That man hasn’t looked worried about business since he was twenty-seven. Whatever this is, it has a face.”
“Nana,” Grace warned.
Eleanor shrugged.
“I’m ninety. Politeness is no longer a meaningful investment.”
Nolan kissed his mother goodbye and left.
Outside, snow had begun falling harder.
He drove back toward Michigan Avenue.
The bus stop was empty.
For several minutes Nolan sat in the sedan with the engine running, staring at the place Maya had been standing.
Then he remembered something.
Maya’s old apartment.
It was unlikely she still lived there.
But Nolan had nowhere else to begin.
The building stood in Lakeview, a restored brick walk-up above a bakery that used to sell Maya cinnamon rolls every Sunday morning.
Nolan remembered waking beside her one winter and discovering she had gone outside wearing his coat over pajamas because the bakery had announced a limited batch of maple pastries.
“You’re insane,” he had said.
“You ate three.”
“That’s not relevant.”
Now the bakery had changed names.
The woman behind the counter didn’t recognize Maya.
Neither did the current tenant upstairs.
Nolan returned to his car.
He could have had someone find her within minutes.
Reed Meridian employed investigators for corporate security.
He knew former federal agents.
He knew police commissioners.
He knew people whose entire careers involved locating things that didn’t want to be located.
But using those resources against Maya felt wrong.
So Nolan did something simpler.
He searched her name.
Maya Bennett Chicago.
Very little appeared.
An outdated professional profile.
An old charity event.
A freelance bookkeeping listing.
Then a photograph from a neighborhood winter clothing drive posted six months earlier.
Maya stood beside several volunteers.
Behind her was the name of an organization.
LAKESHORE FAMILY RESOURCE CENTER.
Nolan called.
A woman answered.
“Lakeshore Family Resource Center, this is Denise.”
“I’m trying to reach Maya Bennett.”
“May I ask who’s calling?”
“Nolan Reed.”
Pause.
“Is Maya expecting your call?”
“No.”
“Then I’m afraid I can’t give you any personal information.”
“I understand. Could you tell her I called?”
Another pause.
“Yes.”
“Please tell her it’s important.”
“I’m sure she’ll decide that.”
The line went dead.
Nolan stared at the phone.
He deserved that.
He drove nowhere for almost an hour.
Then his phone rang.
Unknown number.
Nolan answered instantly.
“Hello?”
Silence.
Then Maya’s voice.
“Why are you looking for me?”
His chest tightened.
“Maya.”
“Answer the question.”
“I need to talk to you.”
“No.”
“Please.”
“You had your opportunity two years ago.”
“I know.”
“No, Nolan. You don’t.”
Snow gathered on his windshield.
“I saw them.”
Silence.
Maya inhaled.
“I know.”
“Are they—”
“Don’t.”
“Maya.”
“You don’t get to ask me that over the phone like you’re confirming a shipment number.”
His grip tightened around the phone.
“You’re right.”
Another silence.
Then he said, “Tell me where to meet you.”
“No.”
“I won’t come to your home.”
“You’re definitely not coming to my home.”
“A coffee shop. Restaurant. Anywhere public.”
“You’re engaged.”
Nolan looked at his left hand.
“I know.”
“I saw her.”
“Claire.”
“I don’t need her name.”
“She deserves to understand what’s happening too.”
Maya laughed once.
It wasn’t amused.
“That must be difficult for you.”
“I deserve that.”
“No. You don’t understand what you deserve.”
Nolan closed his eyes.
“Probably not.”
That seemed to surprise her.
Maya didn’t respond for several seconds.
Finally she said, “There’s a coffee shop on Clark near Belden. Four o’clock.”
“I’ll be there.”
“If you bring anyone, I leave.”
“I won’t.”
“And Nolan?”
“Yes?”
“My daughters will not be there.”
My daughters.
Not ours.
The distinction cut deeply.
“I understand.”
“No,” Maya said softly. “You really don’t.”
She hung up.
At 3:42 Nolan entered the coffee shop.
At 3:51 he had already checked the door twelve times.
At 4:07 Maya arrived.
She still wore the red coat.
Snow sparkled in her hair.
She stopped just inside the entrance.
For several seconds neither of them moved.
Two years disappeared.
Nolan saw the woman he had once loved enough to imagine buying a house with.
Maya saw the man who had accused her of trying to trap him.
She walked to the table.
Did not remove her coat.
Did not order anything.
Nolan stood.
“Hi.”
Her expression barely changed.
“You look ridiculous.”
He blinked.
“What?”
“You look like you’re meeting someone to negotiate a hostage release.”
Despite everything, Nolan nearly smiled.
Maya didn’t.
He sat again.
She remained standing for a moment.
Then slowly took the chair opposite him.
Nolan had rehearsed several opening lines.
Every one of them disappeared.
Finally he said, “What are their names?”
Maya looked toward the window.
“That’s your first question?”
“No.”
“What’s your first question?”
“I don’t know where to start.”
“You started two years ago.”
Nolan lowered his voice.
“I was wrong.”
Maya looked at him.
It was the first time her expression cracked.
Pain crossed her face so quickly he might have missed it if he hadn’t known her once.
“You don’t get to say that like you made a bad investment.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
“You called me a liar.”
“I know.”
“You said I had planned the pregnancy.”
“I know.”
“You asked if I had been sleeping with someone else.”
Nolan swallowed.
“I remember.”
“I was eleven weeks pregnant.”
“I remember.”
“I was terrified.”
His eyes dropped.
“You were the person I wanted beside me.”
“Maya—”
“And you looked at me like I was trying to rob you.”
Her voice never rose.
That made every word worse.
Nolan stared at the table.
“I have no excuse.”
“Good.”
“But I need to know.”
She laughed softly.
“There it is.”
“I saw them.”
“So?”
“One has my mother’s dimple.”
Maya’s eyes flickered.
“They both do when they really smile.”
The world seemed to tilt.
Nolan leaned back.
Both.
He stared at her.
Maya realized what she had admitted.
Her face hardened.
“They’re mine.”
“Are they my daughters?”
She looked straight at him.
“Yes.”
The coffee shop disappeared.
Noise disappeared.
Nolan heard only one word.
Yes.
He exhaled shakily.
Maya continued.
“Identical twins. Holly and Hope Bennett. Born June twenty-seventh. Six weeks early. Hope spent twelve days in neonatal care. Holly spent nine.”
Nolan could barely speak.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Maya stared at him in disbelief.
“I did.”
“After they were born.”
“I tried.”
Something cold moved through him.
“What?”
“I called.”
“I never received—”
“I wrote.”
Nolan went still.
“I sent you a letter when they were born.”
“To where?”
“Your office.”
His heart began beating harder.
“Maya, I never got a letter.”
“I sent it by certified courier.”
“To me?”
“To your executive floor.”
“Who signed for it?”
Maya’s eyes narrowed.
“I don’t remember.”
“Do you still have the receipt?”
“What?”
“The delivery receipt.”
“Nolan, this was eighteen months ago.”
“Do you have it?”
She hesitated.
“I kept everything.”
His throat tightened.
“Why?”
Maya looked away.
“Because when someone convinces you that you imagined an entire relationship, you start keeping proof.”
Nolan felt physically ill.
“Can I see it?”
“No.”
“Maya.”
“No.”
“If someone intercepted that letter—”
“Stop.”
She leaned forward.
“Do not turn this into a conspiracy because it’s easier than admitting what you did.”
“I’m not.”
“You rejected them before they were born.”
“Yes.”
“You don’t get to blame someone else for that.”
“I’m not.”
Nolan held her gaze.
“But someone may have made sure I never had a chance to reconsider.”
Maya studied him.
“What are you talking about?”
“Wade.”
The name changed something in her face.
Nolan saw it immediately.
“You know something.”
Maya’s fingers tightened around her coat sleeve.
“I know I don’t like him.”
“Why?”
“He came to see me.”
Nolan’s entire body went still.
“When?”
“Three weeks after you left.”
“What?”
Maya’s voice became quiet.
“He told me you had asked him to handle the situation.”
Nolan stared at her.
“I never sent him.”
Maya looked suddenly uncertain.
“He knew details.”
“What details?”
“Things I had only told you.”
Nolan felt anger move through him, cold and precise.
“What did he say?”
“He said you didn’t want contact.”
“I never said that.”
“He said if the baby was really yours, lawyers would deal with support.”
Nolan stood so abruptly his chair scraped the floor.
Several customers looked over.
Maya flinched.
Nolan immediately sat again.
“I’m sorry.”
His hands shook.
He had not felt rage like this in years.
“He came to your apartment?”
“Yes.”
“Did he threaten you?”
“No.”
“Did he give you money?”
Maya’s expression hardened.
“He offered.”
Nolan closed his eyes.
Of course.
“What did you do?”
“I told him to get out.”
Despite everything, Nolan almost laughed.
That sounded exactly like Maya.
“He came again after the twins were born?”
“No.”
“And you sent me a letter.”
“Yes.”
“With photographs?”
Her eyes changed.
“Yes.”
Nolan’s pulse quickened.
“What photographs?”
“The girls in the hospital.”
“And you never heard back.”
“No.”
Nolan reached for his phone.
Maya immediately stood.
“What are you doing?”
“Calling my office.”
“No.”
“I need to know who accepted that letter.”
“And then what?”
“I find out what happened.”
Maya stared at him.
“Nolan.”
He stopped.
“This doesn’t change the important part.”
He knew what she meant.
Whatever Wade had done afterward, Nolan had already failed her.
“I know.”
Her expression softened by one degree.
Nolan put the phone down.
Then asked quietly, “Can I meet them?”
“No.”
The answer came instantly.
His chest tightened.
“Maya—”
“No.”
“I’m their father.”
“You’re biologically related to them.”
“That’s not the same thing.”
He looked at her.
Maya’s eyes glistened.
“Do you know who sat beside Hope’s incubator every night?”
Nolan couldn’t answer.
“I did.”
“Maya…”
“Do you know who learned infant CPR because the nurses said premature babies can stop breathing?”
He shook his head.
“Do you know who worked remotely between feedings because hospital bills existed whether I slept or not?”
Nolan looked down.
“I did.”
Her voice broke for the first time.
“And do you know who wasn’t there?”
He could barely say it.
“Me.”
Maya nodded.
“Yes.”
The silence lasted a long time.
Finally Nolan whispered, “I can’t fix that.”
“No.”
“But if you let me, I can be there now.”
Maya wiped quickly beneath one eye.
“I don’t know whether that would be good for them.”
“Then let me prove it.”
“To who?”
“You.”
Maya laughed sadly.
“You used to be very good at convincing people of things.”
“This isn’t business.”
“That’s what scares me.”
She stood.
Nolan didn’t stop her.
At the door, Maya paused.
“I’ll send you a picture of the courier receipt.”
“Thank you.”
She turned.
Then Nolan said, “Maya.”
She looked back.
“I’m sorry.”
Her face tightened.
“I know you are.”
For half a second, he thought that might be forgiveness.
Then she added:
“But apologies are easiest for the person saying them.”
She walked out.
Twenty minutes later, Nolan received a photograph.
A faded courier receipt.
Delivery destination:
REED MERIDIAN FREIGHT
EXECUTIVE OFFICE
ATTENTION: NOLAN REED
Signed for at 9:14 a.m.
Recipient signature:
W. DALTON.
Nolan stared at the screen.
Wade had received Maya’s letter.
Wade had never given it to him.
And suddenly the question was no longer whether Nolan had been manipulated.
May you like
The question was why.
---
