Chapter 3 - Miranda’s Room Was Already Emptying
By the time I returned to Morello House the next morning, Miranda had left.
Not disappeared.
Left with counsel.
Important distinction.
Security had not detained her.
They had no lawful basis after police finished the immediate scene investigation.
She took one suitcase.
Her phone.
Medication.
Nothing belonging to Daphne.
Nothing from my private office.
The rest remained in the bridal suite.
The police preserved relevant footage.
My staff preserved access logs.
No one searched Miranda’s belongings for me.
I wanted them searched.
My lawyer stopped me.
“She still has privacy rights.”
“She threatened me with a child.”
“Then we use lawful process.”
I hated lawful process that morning.
That was probably why I needed it.
Adrian obtained a copy of the marriage license paperwork.
The officiant confirmed the ceremony.
We were legally married.
For approximately three hours before I told her through counsel that I would seek dissolution immediately.
No dramatic annulment by tearing a page.
The prenup separated premarital assets and waived broad claims except specifically negotiated support terms.
No child together was mentioned in the prenup because as far as I knew there was no child together.
That phrase began bothering Adrian.
“As far as you knew.”
“I know what I said.”
“Have you and Miranda ever discussed having children?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Two years ago.”
“How far did it go?”
I looked at him.
“Far enough.”
He waited.
Juliana’s death had changed the way I thought about parenthood.
I had not wanted another child initially.
Then Daphne turned six.
Started asking about siblings.
Not every day.
Enough.
Miranda and I discussed trying after marriage.
She was thirty-nine then.
Her reproductive endocrinologist found diminished ovarian reserve.
We pursued IVF.
One retrieval.
Then another.
Four embryos reached testing.
Two were chromosomally suitable for transfer.
I knew that much.
One female.
One male.
I had signed paperwork for cryopreservation.
I had also signed intended-parent documents because Miranda’s doctor advised that carrying a pregnancy herself would have elevated medical risk due a cardiac condition diagnosed in her twenties.
We interviewed gestational-carrier agencies.
Then stopped.
At least I thought we stopped.
“Why?”
Adrian asked.
“Daphne.”
“What about her?”
“She started having nightmares about the wedding.”
“Specifically?”
“That Miranda would replace her.”
Adrian leaned back.
“Did Miranda know?”
“Yes.”
“So you paused surrogacy.”
“I told Miranda we were waiting until after the wedding and until Daphne was settled.”
“Did you tell the clinic?”
I stopped.
That answer came slower.
“No.”
“Agency?”
“No.”
“Did you revoke signed consent?”
“I told Miranda we were pausing.”
“Garrick.”
“I know what you're asking.”
I looked toward the ballroom doors.
The flowers were still up.
Staff had not yet dismantled them.
“I thought telling my future wife was enough.”
Adrian removed his glasses.
“It may have been emotionally enough. It may not have been administratively enough.”
May you like
That was the first time fear took the shape of something real.
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