TPATSD 1
Alex's fiancée, Erica, kissed him goodbye and went off to work. It was her first day back after having their baby, and she never came home. Gabriella Catalina had been born eleven weeks prematurely, and when she was five weeks old, their world came crashing down around them. Alex had been granted paternity leave from his job, as a solicitor at a small firm, as well as using his extra paid time off, to be there for them in the hospital and help them settle at home before he was due to return to work, himself.
Alex thought he had it all: a beautiful fiancée who was crazy about him, the perfect job, a brand-new home, and they'd just added a baby girl to their family. But no matter how well they were doing financially, Erica had insisted on returning to her job, not really taking the time to recover from the birth of their daughter. They were living in London for Erica's work; she was an interior designer for an up-and-coming firm and had worked on some of London's most lavish homes. Erica was always career-oriented and that was something Alex had loved about her. Her dedication to her career was admirable. Admittedly, he was a workaholic too. It was a common ground they had shared when they first started dating. Alex had followed her to London, choosing to study law at the London School of Economics and Political Science on a scholarship. He had been excited when Erica got the job in the UK and promising to follow her over there had been the easiest decision he'd ever made. His parents were both politicians, and as much as studying law would have been a stepping-stone for him to go into politics like his parents; he wasn't even sure that was what he wanted anymore.
After a long day at the hospital with Gabriella, Alex had come home and found Erica hadn't arrived home at her usual time. There was no note or message from her, telling him that she was going to be late. Which was very out of character for her. He had tried calling and texting her, to no avail. He had then called the police and reported her missing, but they told him it was standard procedure to wait 24 hours before they could file the report. When Alex explained that they had a 5-week-old, premature daughter in the NICU who relied on Erica for milk and Erica would not abandon their baby like that, the sympathetic officer reluctantly agreed and immediately came out to their home to take the report. Alex authorised them to access her phone records, her bank records, gave the police keys to her office and photos of her. He would have given them everything to find her. They promised they'd be in touch. He did not hear anything from them.
Alex's family were concerned, his sister June and her wife Nora had immediately flown to the UK to support him. While both of his parents, and his stepfather Leo, had chosen to remain in the US, they asked to be kept in the loop. Erica didn't have any family; her parents had died in a car accident when she was nineteen, and her sister had died from leukemia when she was seven. Alex's family had immediately accepted her and made her part of their own.
She had an ex-best friend, Simone, who had been practically like a sister, before they had fallen out. But Simone didn't like Alex; she never really did. Simone was always suspicious of Alex because he was half-Spanish and bisexual. The police contacted Simone about Erica, but she hadn't heard from or seen Erica since their falling out six months ago. Six months ago, Simone had tried to encourage Erica to abort their baby and call off the wedding. Claiming that Alex would eventually cheat on her because "Spanish men can't keep it in their pants." Her claim of course was from having dated a Spanish man while touring Madrid, six years ago and he had cheated on her. When Simone had made that demand of Erica, it had been the end of their friendship.
Two days after Alex came home and discovered Erica missing, the police paid him a visit at the hospital's neonatal intensive care unit (NICU). They led him to a small meeting room just off the main entrance to the NICU and informed him that they had found Erica. She had been on her way back from a job at Beaconsfield when her boss ran off the road and hit a tree. She had died instantly, and her boss had succumbed to his injuries in the hospital, just that morning. The hospital had been the ones to contact the police when they had put out a missing person's report for Erica; they had made contact telling the police they had someone in their morgue matching her description.
June and Nora had arrived that morning and were sleeping off their jet lag in his house while he was at the children's hospital with their daughter. The police had called June to the hospital to support Alex and the hospital had arranged for a social worker to help Alex through it. When June arrived, he clung to her and cried. June held him and allowed her little brother to cry. June escorted him and the officer to the morgue in Beaconsfield to identify the body of his fiancée. Alex collapsed to the floor in grief.
Reality began to hit Alex hard. He was now a single father to a five-week-old daughter who had been born eleven weeks premature and was still not breathing on her own without breathing support. All he had wanted to do was curl up with his daughter on his chest and mourn her mother next to her. So, June took him back to the hospital and let him do just that, while Nora made the calls to his father, his mom, and her husband.
Four days after Alex had identified Erica's body, he was at home, lying on his bed between Nora and June when a knock at the door sounded, late in the evening. Exchange of looks with the girls and not expecting any visitors, he said he would answer it. It was a woman he had only met three times before, Samantha Worthington, the supermodel wife of Erica's boss, Cameron Worthington.
"Mrs. Worthington, how can I help you?" Alex asked. His eyes were red raw, puffy and swollen. But his eyes were dry, having cried all his tears.
She didn't look much better than he did, but she had an angry look on her face too. "Alex, I apologise for coming over unexpectedly. Can I come in?" Alex held the door open wordlessly and admitted her into the small sitting room in the front of their house. June and Nora were there, waiting. June had crossed her arms, making it clear that she would not leave Alex alone. "I was kind of hoping we could speak alone."
"I'm not leaving Alex." June hissed, crossing her arms over her chest, refusing to move. "Alex is my kid brother and I'm not leaving." She reiterated to the woman who had come over to Alex's home uninvited late at night.
"Fine." Samantha conceded. "What I have to say is kind of delicate, but your fiancé and my husband were sleeping together."
"What?!" Alex exploded. He was shocked by Mrs. Worthington's words. He couldn't believe what he had just heard.
"Hear me out, please." Samantha begged. "I am sorry to have dropped the bomb on you like that, but there is no easy way to break such news to someone. Cam's business partner came to see me yesterday. Nathan told me that they'd been having an affair practically the entire time she had been employed at the company. He suspected that my husband was the father of your baby."
"I am the father of our child." Alex declared vehemently. It was obvious to everyone that she was a miniature version of Alex. "She is mine, not his."
"Relax, Alex. I know she is yours." Samantha whispered softly. "Cameron was sterile. That is why we didn't have any children of our own. Nathan doesn't know that about Cameron. After hearing his words and contacting Cam's lawyer, it seemed my husband had changed his will. He was preparing to divorce me. Admittedly things have been strained between us for the last year, but we had been having marriage counselling and things had begun looking up. I was searching through his papers, looking for the latest copy of his will. There was a letter for your wife in there. It was dated last month. Having read it, I am now questioning everything that I once knew."
Samantha handed Alex the letter, which she had opened without looking sorry for having done so.
To my darling Erica,
You are the light and the love of my life. No one understands me like you do. When we first met, I couldn't believe how real you were. Fresh off the plane, there you were with your Texas drawl, so charming and alluring. My heart sank when I saw the diamond on your left hand. But it only made me want you more.
It didn't matter in the long run, how hard you fell for me. On our first night together, you told me that you loved me and wanted nothing more than to be with me. That you would leave him for me, but it meant that in leaving him, you were leaving his family. The only family you'd had for years, and you couldn't do it. That you didn't think his family would choose him over you.
When you told me you were pregnant, my heart soared with happiness, even though we played pretend, we both knew that the baby wasn't mine. It didn't stop us from playing pretend. Your fiancé loves you. He is your rock. My wife loves me. She is my rock. Yet we both went looking for something more. Something real, and we found it in one another.
When you got sick and took leave from work, I couldn't find an excuse to come visit you. To be by your side and it put some things into perspective for me. I was wondering if you would consider leaving him for me Let me help you raise your baby instead. We can be together for real. I have the money and means to forge DNA test results and I will do it for you. I am not that callous and cold-hearted; I will treat your baby as if it were my own flesh and blood. Treat you like the queen you are.
Things with my wife are almost over. I have changed my will and will file for divorce. End things with Alex and we can be together for real. We can move anywhere you want. Let my family be your family.
Our trip up to Beaconsfield is all booked, and I cannot wait to have you back in my arms after these ten weeks apart. My body yearns to have you once more. Tell me if I should set the DNA test in motion; we can be rid of your fiancé forever.
But I warn you, if I don't get you, no one will. Not even Alex. That's how much I love you.
All my love, Cam.
"At this point, I hate to say this, but for the purpose of proving that my husband is not her father, I need a DNA test on your daughter, Gabriella Catalina Claremont-Diaz." Sam handed him another piece of paper from her bag. A court-ordered DNA test on Gabriella Catalina Claremont-Diaz. Her nine-week-old baby girl. "He left everything to Erica and your child. In the event of Erica's untimely death, I can contest the will, but only if your daughter is not his child. Otherwise, she will inherit everything, and I will have nothing. If she is my husband's child, I will be petitioning the courts for sole custody of her. If she is his, she is my only remaining link to him."
"She is my daughter, not your husband's." Alex reiterated. "My daughter has my brown skin, your husband was white, as was Erica. She had my dark head of hair, your husband Erica had blonde hair."
"Then you have nothing to fear if you comply with the court-ordered DNA test." She snapped, "Give me the sample, and I'll be on my way."
Nora took a menacing step forward, toward her. Whilst June was too shocked to speak, Alex was numb. Nora on the other hand was raging mad. She snatched the letter from Alex's hand and shoved it down her bra. "Now would be a good time to leave, Mrs. Worthington. You have overstayed your welcome."
With that, Nora held out her arm to direct Samantha to the door. "If you do not comply within 24 hours, you will be hearing from my attorney, Mr. Diaz."
"It's Claremont-Diaz, you twit." June slammed the door in Nora's face, having all but tossed the woman out of Alex's home.
The following morning, Alex contacted his boss and gave her a rundown of the situation. His boss was understanding and put him in touch with a family lawyer friend of hers, who specialized in complex custody cases. Zahra Bankston was a shark; he knew of her by reputation only. She was a high-powered attorney, and he knew she would cost him a pretty penny. Money that he had put aside for Gabriella's therapy.
June offered to help financially where she could, but she was already doing it tough. They were relying on Nora's income alone, while June took a sabbatical from her job as a journalist to write her first novel. Nora worked for a nonprofit and took home a minimum wage.
"I can't take on a pro bono case right now." Zahra had told him when they discussed the cost of engaging her services. "But I am sympathetic to your case. Let me put you in touch with a contact of mine. He oversees various funding avenues for cases of special circumstances. Perhaps one of his funding avenues has an opening to sponsor you and your daughter."
With that, Zahra gave Alex the number to Shaan Srivastava.
Alex learned from his call with Mr. Srivastava that he had no funding avenues available, but he knew of someone who might be able to help. He also learned that Zahra Bankston was actually Zahra Bankston-Srivastava, his wife. Shaan had an acquaintance through his employer, Percy Okonjo, who ran the charitable Okonjo Foundation. Normally they were philanthropic through their LGBTQIA shelters, their HIV and AIDS clinics in third world countries and the scholarship funds. But Shaan was sure that his story would touch the heart of the wonderful Mr. Okonjo, and that eccentric philanthropist would be delighted to help.
Within twenty minutes of his call ending with Shaan, there was a knock at the door. It was Percy Okonjo himself, in an off-white suit with black musical notes, bars, and etchings of various musical instruments. He was paired with a black tee that had the tagline "Love who you want; it's good for foreign policy."
His sister and her wife were at the hospital with Gabriella for him, while he dealt with the legalities of what Mrs. Worthington threw at him. Immediately inviting Mr. Okonjo into his home, he offered the man a drink.
"Coffee, please. Call me Strumpet. And if you have it, otherwise I'll take tea." Pez had cooed at him, apprising Alex as he followed the new father into the kitchen of his home.
"Coffee it is! I am the world's biggest coffee addict." Alex grinned at him as Alex began to brew a fresh pot.
Once Alex had handed the cup of coffee to Pez, he smiled at Alex. "I'll try to help you out. Please don't stress." Pez reassured him. "I would, however, like to meet the young Miss Claremont-Diaz first. It's not something I would usually do; it's not something I would normally do."
"I can get you into the nursery, but you won't be able to touch her." Alex said, immediately grateful to the billionaire for giving him the sliver of hope that he desperately craved.
After their coffee, Pez followed Alex to the hospital and into the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit. Once inside, Alex showed Pez how to scrub into the unit with hand sanitizer and politely explained that all of his jewelry needed to be removed and he needed to be bare below the elbow. As Pez lathered on the hand sanitizer in epic proportions, he noticed that Alex, although anxious to get to his child, was scrutinizing him carefully and ensuring he followed his directions to the letter.
The NICU was divided into sections, and in each section, there were either four cribs or isolettes. "This is the HDU subsection." Alex told him in a low voice, as they arrived in the second section of the ward. "The High Dependency Unit is one step below the NICU. Gabriella just got moved in here yesterday."
He led Pez over to the isolette in the far corner of the room, on the left-hand side. The isolette looked like a crib that was enclosed within a perspex casing over the top, which was clipped on. It had port holes on both sides, little doors that opened to allow hands to get in and adjust wires or touch the baby, as needed. At the head end there was a small opening where wires and medical oxygen tubes were fed into the crib. Pez's eyes nearly bugged out as he noticed that the isolette was thermally controlled electronically. He took a step closer to the isolette, which had a small quilt-like drape over the top of it, blocking out most of the natural daylight coming in through the window in her cubicle. The nametag on the foot of the isolette was pink and had gold lettering with her name "Gabriella" on it. Surrounding it, the name card had been decorated in purples and teals, gold and hot pink.
"Your sister and her wife made it for her today." The nurse who was dutifully sitting by her bed told him. Maggie was her name and she had been a godsend to Alex (and Erica) since day one. Maggie was in her late forties, possibly early fifties, with golden blonde hair that reminded Alex of his mom. "They assured me you wouldn't mind."
"I don't." He smiled at the nurse, who was typing her nursing notes into a laptop. "They know I don't have an artistic bone in my body. How is my girl doing this morning?"
"See for yourself, Alex." Maggie smiled at him, before gently removing the quilt that covered.
Changed
"That is called Humidified high flow nasal prong (HFNP) therapy and is a form of non-invasive respiratory support. HFNP acts as a bridge between low flow oxygen therapies and CPAP, reducing the need for CPAP/intubation." Maggie explained softly to the newcomer. "She is getting six litres of oxygen to every 20 percent of room air."
"She is divine, Alex." Pez whispered, looking her over carefully. He couldn't help but feel emotional looking at the beautiful baby girl, literally in the fight for survival, right before his eyes. "A true miracle. I hope you know you're a very lucky man."
"I am." Alex grinned at Pez. "The name Gabriella is of Spanish, Italian origin and means 'God is my strength.' Her middle name is Catalina, after my sister. It means 'pure.'"
"She is perfect." Pez declared, actually wiping the tears that had been forming in his eyes without shame.
"It's time for her cares, Dad." Maggie smiled at him, interrupting Pez before he could say anything further. "Would you like to do the honors?"
Alex jumped at the opportunity, reaching into the small drawer beneath the isolette and pulling out two containers and a fresh diaper. One container was tucked under the other, and the top container was filled with cotton balls. Alex went over to the tap on the far wall and ran the water before filling the empty container halfway with warm water.
As Pez watched Alex clean his hands again thoroughly with the sanitizer and slip into some nitrile blue gloves, Maggie sidled up beside him. "With the parents who can't medically hold their babies yet, we like to keep them as hands-on as possible." She whispered to him. "It gives them a way to be involved in touching their own children and bonding with them. It makes them feel like they're doing something to help."
When Alex was finished, Maggie donned a pair of gloves and slipped her hands into the port holes on the other side of the crib. She helped Alex reposition Gabriella, explaining to the newcomer that she needed to be repositioned every two hours to prevent pressure sores. For the next two hours she would be lying in a prone position to encourage deep breathing and increase her oxygen intake.
When Alex looked up at Pez, after giving his daughter a loving gaze and resisting the urge to continue touching her. Resisting the urge to let him feel the proof of life beneath his fingers.
"Let me mull over what funds I can salvage from my current ongoing projects." Pez said slowly, dropping his voice to barely a whisper as Alex watched Maggie cover the isolette back up with the quilt while Alex looked like he was about to lose his composure. "I want to help. You're a good father and it's obvious how much you love your daughter."
"Thank you." Alex replied, letting his own tears fall. "You don't know what this means to me."
"I have an inkling, darling." Pez chuckled lightly, as he pulled Alex into a comforting hug. "I know a fighter when I see one, and right now I see a father and daughter, both fighting."
When Pez left the hospital, he immediately called his best friend on the face of the earth using his Bluetooth. As he headed in the direction of Kensington Palace, he asked, "Hazza, my darling! How are you on this splendid day?"
Pez's friend was none other than the Prince of England's heart, His Royal Highness Prince Henry of Wales and third in line to the throne. "You're awfully cheerful for 11 AM, I thought you slept until noon on days ending in y." Henry quipped in reply to his friend. The gentle teasing between best friends never wavered.
"I had good motivation to get moving this morning." Pez smiled, thinking of how Alex had jumped at the chance to care for his daughter, changing her diapers, just so he could have human contact with his child. "I met with Shaan's latest cause. An Alex Claremont-Diaz."
"He's the one whose wife died in that awful car accident in Beaconsfield, right?" Henry asked. He remembered seeing the news story earlier in the week. The media mentioned the woman was a new mother.
"Oh Haz, it's awful. The man who was in the accident with the wife was the wife's boss. They were having an affair, and now the boss's wife is claiming that her husband is the father and is suing for sole custody of their baby." Pez informed Henry in his usual theatrical manner. "Henry, the baby is beautiful and a clone of the woman's fiancé. I met her; she's this tiny little thing. She's barely 30 centimeters from head to toe. I saw her stats on the wall. She was born weighing only 750 grams. That's not even a bag of sugar, Haz! She's got wires and tubes, and that man looks at his precious little girl like she is his whole world. Haz, there's no way that the boss is the father. The mother and the boss are both white, but this baby is brown like Mr. Claremont-Diaz. This is nothing more than an angry, pissed-off wife trying to hurt the mistress's fiancé because she can't scream at her dead husband."
"How can I help?" Henry asked immediately. He hadn't heard Pez ever react to one of Shaan's causes like this before. This case had clearly gotten under his skin and into his bones in a way that no other philanthropic endeavor had before.
"Tell me if you have spare funds for the LGBTQIA shelter we're setting up in Birmingham." Pez pleaded.
"If we delay the opening by a fortnight, we will have ample to spare." Henry admitted. "I have an idea. The man is a lawyer, right? Have we got Zahra on it?"
"Yes, I confirmed it all with Shaan on my way in."
"I have an idea." Henry said softly, as Pez walked into the music room at Kensington Palace and disconnected the call. "It's a long shot, but I wonder if Mum could reach out to the widow, make her see reason. From one widow to another, grief speaks."
"Only if my queen wants to." Pez answered him seriously. "She is just starting to come out of her grief; I don't want this to pull her back in."
Henry called his mother and asked her to join them in the music room. Catherine came waltzing in, in an air of grace that only she could pull off. Pez and Henry explained the situation to her and asked her if she would be willing to talk with the widow.
Catherine was hesitant, but Pez began repeating his words to Henry about how this little premature baby had managed to get under his skin and into his soul, by merely being in her presence. Catherine reluctantly admitted that it seemed like something she could do and promised to call on her the next day.
Three days later, Alex was lying in bed. His mom and stepfather were awake already; he could hear them moving about. Nora and June would be no doubt awake too, as would his father. Alex rolled over onto Erica's pillow and inhaled the lingering scent of her perfume. This morning, as mad as he was at her, he still missed her.
The funeral is tomorrow, and his parents flew in yesterday morning to be here. It will be a small service and she will be cremated and interred with her sister and parents back home, in Texas. Something that Alex can organize later, once Gabriella is medically cleared to fly home. He wants Gabriella to be there for her mother's final goodbye.
The ringing of his cell phone from the nightstand interrupted his thoughts about Erica. Not recognizing the number calling, Alex slipped into his lawyer persona. "This is Alex Claremont-Diaz."
"I don't know how you managed it, you little shit." Zahra's voice floated down the line, but there seemed to be happiness behind her words. "She came in and dropped the complaint. As I know you are more than aware, she could pursue it again at any time. So, here's what we're gonna do. Get that DNA test, Alex. Prove you are indeed her father. I am going to file it with the courts and get it on record. I will keep a copy in a file here and I suggest you keep the original for your records."
Alex scrubbed his face. "You're going to have to repeat it in my hopeful ear." Alex chuckled.
"You heard me just fine, kid." Zahra laughed too. "I don't know what kind of magic strings Okonjo pulled, but they were genius. Let me know when you have the DNA results."
Typing a text message to Percy, or Pez as he had insisted Alex call him. Alex was sure to relay his gratitude to the man. He didn't want to insult the kind eccentric stranger who had helped him, but he was curious if the man calling himself Pez hadn't paid the woman off, like a bribe.
Excited to share his news, Alex pulled on an old ratty T-shirt that he often wore to bed and raced downstairs to tell his family.