For several seconds, the hospital room became so quiet that I could even hear Luke’s soft breathing.
I stared at Mark.
“What have you never told me?”
Instead of answering, he looked down at the baby again. Then, very carefully, he moved the hair behind Luke’s left ear aside with his finger.
There was a small, crescent-shaped birthmark.
I looked at him in confusion.
“This? This is what scared you so much?”
Mark nodded.
“Tyler had one in exactly the same place. Exactly the same shape.”
“Who is Tyler?”
Helen suddenly walked over to the door and closed it.
That movement frightened me more than anything she had said.
Mark sat down in the chair beside my hospital bed.
“When I was eighteen, there was a girl. Her name was Rachel.”
I froze.
In eight years of marriage, Mark had never once mentioned that name.
“We were together for almost two years. Then Rachel got pregnant.”
I felt something tighten inside me.
“Are you saying you had a child?”
Mark silently nodded.
“A boy.”
Helen began to cry.
“We named him Tyler,” Mark continued. “I was there when he was born. I held him for a few minutes. And that’s when I saw the mark.”
He looked at Luke.
“The same one.”
“Where is he now?”
Mark’s face changed.
“He died.”
But at that moment, Helen quietly said:
“No.”
Mark spun toward his mother.
“What did you say?”
Helen gripped the back of the chair with both hands.
“Tyler didn’t die.”
I suddenly couldn’t even feel the pain from the delivery anymore.
Mark simply stared at his mother.
“Say that again.”
“He didn’t die.”
Mark stood up.
“You told me he died in the hospital.”
“I know.”
“I’ve believed that for seventeen years.”
Helen began sobbing.
“Your father decided you were too young. Rachel’s parents didn’t want her raising a baby either. They made an arrangement.”
“What kind of arrangement?”
Helen closed her eyes.
“They gave the baby up for adoption.”
The expression that appeared on Mark’s face frightened even me.
“And you told me my son was dead?”
Helen nodded.
