I suggest therapy, and I’m glad when he agrees.
Reeve pulls out of the movie he was due to film, and I take time off to care full-time for my family. Easton is a source of enormous comfort to Reeve. Father and son grow even closer during this time. Holding his family tight is important to Reeve, and we’re here for him. My pregnancy is another source of comfort, and Reeve is thrilled when our scan reveals we are expecting a little girl.
Gradually, he returns to himself, but I still encourage him to continue seeing his therapist. Reeve has a lot of unresolved emotions when it comes to his father, and I don’t want to see him derailed.
“Carson Park wants to see us,” Reeve announces the day after my twenty-sixth birthday. Reeve spoiled me with lavender roses and too many gifts including a beautiful, framed photo of him and Easton and another of our scan pic. We had a sumptuous meal at our favorite restaurant last night, and my husband spent hours at home worshiping every inch of my body as he made sweet, sweet love to me. It was the perfect way to celebrate, and I’m feeling all loved up today.
“How come?” I ask. “We already know the contents of the will.”
Simon left everything to Reeve, including his shares in Studio 27.
Up until his death, Simon was CEO of the hugely successful production company. His second-in-command has already been promoted in his stead. The studio knows Reeve has zero interest right now in following in his father’s footsteps, but they have a vested interest in knowing his intent with regards to his inherited investment. The new CEO and a couple of the directors are keen to take the shares off his hands, but I don’t like it. I suggested Reeve hold off making any firm decision, as there’s no rush. Down the line, he may want to take a more active role, and I don’t think he should limit his options.
“I have no clue. He just said there is a matter he needs to discuss. I made an appointment for noon tomorrow.”
“Okay. I’ll let my boss know I’ll be offline for a few hours.”
“What’s this about, Carson?” Reeve asks the next day after we have taken our seats in the attorney’s office.
“Your father trusted me with a personal matter many years ago. He left instructions that after his death I was to tell you the circumstances. I had planned on talking to you the day the will was read, but I could tell you weren’t in the right place to hear this news.”
“What is it?” Reeve automatically laces his fingers in mine, and I rub reassuring circles with my thumb on the back of his hand.
“There is no easy way to disclose something like this, so please excuse me if I’m blunt.”
Reeve nods curtly, and I’m starting to get a bad feeling about this.
“You are aware of the circumstances of your birth and your mother’s tragic passing, but you aren’t privy to the full facts.”
Reeve and I share a perplexed expression. “What facts?” I ask.
“Your mother died during childbirth, but it wasn’t giving birth to you.”
Shock splays across Reeve’s face, matching my own. “What do you mean?”
“You have a twin, Reeve. An identical twin brother.”
What in the actual fuck? I’m not sure what I was expecting him to say, but it sure as hell wasn’t that.
“What? No? I don’t…” Reeve splutters, clutching my hand tight. All the blood has drained from his face. “How is that possible? My father said nothing to me about a brother.” He looks into my eyes. “And your parents never said anything about my mother expecting twins.”
“Your parents didn’t know they were expecting twins, Reeve. One twin was hiding behind the other. It can happen with identical twins where the babies share the same amniotic sac. It’s extremely rare, and usually, later scans detect the second fetus, but this was almost twenty-seven years ago, and ultrasounds were not as advanced as they are now. There are examples all over the world where the parents didn’t find out it was twins until the delivery. That is what happened in this case.”
“What happened to my…twin. Did he die?” Reeve asks. I have jumped to the same conclusion.
Carson links his hands together on the table, fixing Reeve with a sympathetic look. “You were born first, and everything was fine. Your mother held you in her arms and smiled for a picture.”
“I know. I have it in a frame on the wall in our living room. It’s the only photo I have of me with my mother.”
I slide my arm around Reeve’s back, instinctively knowing he’s going to need it.