Chapter 4: The Man Behind the Photograph
I stared at the photograph until my eyes started to burn.
The man beside Victoria was a stranger.
But somehow, looking at him felt like looking at a missing piece of my own life.
The photograph shook between my fingers.
A few hours earlier, I was a husband trying to save his family.
Now I was standing in the hallway of my own house, wondering if my entire marriage had been built on a lie.
I put the picture on the kitchen table and stared at it again.
Victoria.
The fertility clinic.
A man whose face had been removed.
And a message telling me to find out who he was.
I wanted to believe there was an explanation.
A reasonable one.
A mistake.
Anything.
But the problem was that every answer I had received so far only created more questions.
The next morning, I barely touched my coffee.
Victoria came downstairs wearing a robe, her hair messy, her face exhausted.
For a second, I saw the woman I loved.
The woman who used to dance with me in the kitchen.
The woman who cried when we saw our babies for the first time.
Then I remembered Emily tied to our bed.
I remembered the birth certificates.
And the photograph.
“James,” Victoria said softly.
I didn’t respond.
She sat across from me.
“You didn’t sleep.””
“No.””
Neither did she.
But I didn’t feel sympathy anymore.
Not yet.
“Are you still angry?”” she asked.
I looked at her.
“Angry?””
My voice cracked.
“Victoria, I don’t even know what I’m supposed to feel.””
Her eyes filled with tears.
“I know this looks bad.””
“That’s your explanation?””
“No.””
She reached for my hand.
I pulled away.
The movement hurt her.
I saw it.
But I couldn’t stop myself.
“Tell me the truth,” I said.
She looked down.
“I have been trying.””
“No.””
I pushed the photograph across the table.
“Try now.””
Her face changed.
Only slightly.
But enough.
She recognized it.
And that terrified me.
“Where did you get this?””
I leaned back.
“That’s not the question.””
“James—”
“The question is why you’re in this picture.””
Victoria stared at the photograph.
Her silence was louder than any confession.
“Who is he?””
She swallowed.
“I can explain.””
“Then explain.””
She looked toward the staircase.
Toward the nursery.
Toward our children.
“I was scared.””
Those three words made my stomach twist.
“Scared of what?””
Victoria closed her eyes.
“Losing everything.””
I stood.
“You should have thought about that before lying to me.””
Her expression hardened.
“I didn’t lie about everything.””
I laughed quietly.
“Really?””
She stood too.
“You think I don’t know what I’ve sacrificed?””
The sudden anger in her voice surprised me.
“I carried those babies. I went through months of pain. I gave up everything.””
“And Emily?””
Her face changed.
“I made a mistake.””
“A mistake?””
“Yes.””
“You tied a woman to our bed.””
Her eyes moved away.
That was when I knew.
She wasn’t denying it anymore.
“Why?”” I asked.
Victoria sat down.
“She was leaving.””
“Leaving?””
“She was going to tell you.””
“Tell me what?””
She didn’t answer.
I felt my heart racing.
“Victoria.””
Finally, she whispered:
“The truth about the twins.””
I stared at her.
“What truth?””
Before she could answer, my phone rang.
Unknown number.
The same number from the night before.
Rachel.
I answered immediately.
“Hello?””
Victoria looked nervous.
That was enough.
She knew.
“James,” Rachel said.
“I’m glad you answered.””
“Where are you?””
“I’m still coming to meet you.””
“Tell me now.””
There was silence.
Then Rachel said:
“Your wife used another man’s genetic material for the embryos.””
I looked at Victoria.
She was watching me.
“Who was the man?””
Rachel hesitated.
“I can’t say over the phone.””
“Why?””
“Because if Victoria hears the name, she’ll know exactly who gave you this information.””
I looked at my wife.
“She already knows.””
Another silence.
Then Rachel whispered:
“James, get away from her.””
My entire body went cold.
“What?””
“Do not meet her alone.””
The call ended.
I lowered the phone.
Victoria was standing.
“What did she say?””
I looked at my wife.
And for the first time, I realized something.
She wasn’t asking because she cared.
She was asking because she needed to know how much I knew.
“I’m meeting Rachel.””
Victoria’s face went pale.
“No.””
The reaction was instant.
Too instant.
“Why not?””
“Because she’s lying.””
“How do you know?””
She froze.
I stepped closer.
“How do you know what she’s going to say?””
Victoria had no answer.
And that was the first real crack in her story.
Later that morning, I met Rachel at a small coffee shop across town.
She arrived five minutes early.
She looked nervous.
Not guilty.
Afraid.
“You’re James Cole?””
“Yes.””
She sat down.
“I’m sorry.””
“For what?””
“For waiting this long.””
I watched her carefully.
“Start talking.””
Rachel opened her bag and removed a folder.
“I worked at the fertility clinic where Victoria received treatment.””
She placed documents on the table.
“Your wife came to us after several failed attempts.””
“That’s what I knew.””
Rachel nodded.
“But there was a problem.””
“What problem?””
“Victoria’s eggs were not viable.””
I stared.
“She never told me that.””
“I know.””
My hands tightened.
“She was devastated.””
Rachel continued.
“She wanted children more than anything.””
“And?””
“And then she met someone.””
The room suddenly felt too small.
“Who?””
Rachel looked at the folder.
“His name was Daniel Hayes.””
The name meant nothing.
“Who is Daniel?””
Rachel looked at me.
“The man in the photograph.””
I felt like someone had punched the air out of my lungs.
“No.””
“Yes.””
“That’s impossible.””
Rachel shook her head.
“I have the records.””
She opened the folder.
Inside were clinic forms.
Medical reports.
Consent documents.
And a signature.
Victoria Cole.
But not the signature I knew.
A different one.
“What am I looking at?””
Rachel pointed.
“Your wife changed the donor information.””
I looked closer.
The father listed on the original documents wasn’t me.
It was Daniel Hayes.
My hands went numb.
“But why?””
Rachel looked away.
“Because Daniel was someone Victoria already knew.””
“Who?””
Her answer came quietly.
“He was her first husband.””
The world stopped.
I stared at her.
“Her first what?””
“Victoria was married before you.””
I shook my head.
“No.””
“She never told you?””
I couldn’t speak.
Because suddenly, hundreds of small moments started making sense.
The locked phone.
The strange disappearances.
The way she became defensive whenever I asked about her past.
Rachel pushed another document toward me.
“There’s more.””
I looked down.
It was a hospital record.
A pregnancy record.
Victoria’s name.
Daniel Hayes’ name.
And a date.
Seven years before our wedding.
“What is this?””
Rachel looked at me.
“James…”
Her voice softened.
“Your wife didn’t meet Daniel after she met you.””
May you like
I stared at the paper.
“She never left him.””
