Patricia's eyes reddened and she stepped forward, clutching at the explanation like a rescue line. "Sister, please don't misunderstand Brother-in-law. I only thought—after what happened, the doctor said you might never be able to have children again...I just wanted to give you my child to raise when the baby is born, so you and Brother-in-law won't be so sad."
Weston cleared his throat, trying to reassure me. "Denise, Patricia meant well... Perhaps—"
"Let's separate." I cut him off before he could finish. "I'm tired. I won't play along anymore."
"If you loved each other so much, fine. Then have each other."
A flash of delight lit Patricia's face for a beat, then it was gone.
Weston's pupils narrowed. "W-what did you say?" He took a step toward me but stopped dead at the sound of Patricia's sudden sob.
"Sister, I'm sorry! I shouldn't have come back. It's my fault—I'll go now!" she wailed, and fled the room.
Weston hesitated, then looked at me with a soft, pleading expression. "Denise, I know you're grieving, but don't say things you don't mean. If you don't want to raise Patricia's child, fine—don't say that in anger. Wait until you recover, and we can have another baby later."