The Lies We Told by Diane Chamberlain Read Free Book Online Page B

street, our driveway, when we neared the moment that would end his life and tear mine apart, he said, “This is between you and me, Maya, honey. It’ll be our secret.”
    Oh, God. My lost babies. They were my fault. I’d certainly thought about that abortion as I struggled to get pregnant, and I’d never forgotten that first baby, taken from my body only after I’d begun to show.
    “Does this mean…” I cleared my throat, unable to ask the question burning in my mind. Next to me, Adam still sat stiffly in his chair, but he reached over to cover my hand with his. I felt so grateful for him, and so undeserving. “Does this meanthere’s no hope?” I finally managed to say. “That even if I’m able to conceive again, another miscarriage is inevitable?”
    “Not necessarily,” Elaine said, “but it probably does explain why you’ve lost three pregnancies. The in vitro took this time, and you’ll have to talk to Dr. Gallagher about trying again. I’ll send him my report from the D and C and you can talk with him about the pros and cons of giving it another go.”
    I thought of the months of hormone shots. The always-iffy implantation. The waiting to know if I’d conceived. The hopes raised. Dashed. Raised again. All of that would be nothing compared to the anxiety of once more being pregnant, then waiting for that fist to tighten around my uterus. I didn’t know if I could go through it again.
     
    I felt sick to my stomach by the time we got to the car. Neither of us said a word until we’d pulled out of the parking lot into the street.
    “I’m sorry,” I said then.
    He didn’t take his eyes from the road. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked.
    I hesitated. “It’s something I don’t like to remember. And abortion’s not supposed to have anything to do with fertility, but…I think I was afraid it…that it did have something to do with it. I mean, I got pregnant then, and now, as an adult, I have so much trouble conceiving, so I’ve always had this niggling fear that it was somehow related. Now it looks like it is.” My voice broke. I’d already felt responsible for our not having a child, worried that Adam blamed me, subconsciously or not. Now he had a concrete reason to do so. “I’m sorry, Adam,” I said again.
    “Please stop apologizing, Maya.” The muscles in his jaw contracted. “I’m just pissed off you didn’t tell me. We’ve been trying to have a baby for three years—without much luck—and now I discover that you’ve kept a pretty damn significant piece of the puzzle from me.”
    “I know.” I started to apologize again, but caught myself. “I wasn’t intentionally keeping it from you,” I said. “It’s something I’ve tried to forget. I…” My voice trailed off, and I turned my head to look blindly through the window. There was no excuse I could give him that was good enough.
    He didn’t ask me how old I’d been when I had the abortion or who the baby’s father was, and I was relieved. I didn’t want to think about it. The damage done back then had harmed far more than my fertility.
    Was Adam now wondering if there were other things I’d kept from him? Other secrets? Worse secrets?
    If so, he would be right.

7
Rebecca
    “Y OU WANT TO STAY OVER ?” R EBECCA ASKED B RENT AS THEY pulled into the driveway of the massive Victorian she shared with Dorothea.
    “What do you think?” He’d already put the car in Park and was opening his door. She was fine either way, as long as he gave her some space. Two days after returning from San Diego, Rebecca still hadn’t recovered from the conference. Too much food and not enough exercise.
    “I swear,” she said as they walked toward the outside stairs that zigzagged up the side of the building to her second-story apartment, “four days of meeting and greeting, giving speeches and soaking up gorgeous scenery is more draining than a month in the field.”
    “You got that right,” he said.
    The lights on the first