"I'm still a virgin." He pulls away from me and appears surprised. "No, then we'll have to stop," He pulls away from me. I don't want this to stop. Something about this feels right. I'm not repulsed by a man touching me for the first time. I resume kissing him. "No, no, we don't." I mumble as I lock my lips with his and ease my hand into his trousers. Emily Adams needs money to afford surgery for her critically ill brother Liam, in her attempt to find another job she stumbles upon an ad offering to pay $350,000 but the only catch is she has to become a surrogate for a stranger. Billionaire Jacob Collin doesn't have time for women, he is only concerned about the family business, persuaded by his grandmother he agrees to have a child but when he meets the woman who has agreed to be his surrogate he begins to fall in love. Their encounter leaves them both yearning for the other, as Emily start getting attached and is unwilling to pull through with the contract and Jacob takes it upon himself to discover the identity of his surrogate but there are forces that wants to keep them apart. Can they find each other and kindle their love or will they never be together?
View MoreHope starts clapping at the sound of her name, getting Charlotte’s attention. “Oh my gosh, she’s beautiful,” she gasps. “What are you doing here, Mother?” asks my dad. His agitation is a sign that he’s done playing a welcoming party. “I’ve missed so much, haven’t I? And I only have myself to blame,” she says. Hope clamors to get out of Jocasta’s arms and she puts her down on the grass. Slowly, she lifts herself up and her chubby legs begin the unsteady walk to Charlotte. Charlotte breaks her fall with outstretched arms as she comes crashing down. “There’s a good girl,” she says. “You’re a feisty one, just like your mother.” “You haven’t answered Matthew’s question, why are you here?” asks my wife. Charlotte looks at her, “I suppose I’ve come to make a mence and ask for your forgiveness.” “Don’t you think you’re a few years too late?” asks Matthew. “You’re right, I am. But I wanted to say sorry for all the horrible things I’ve done to all of you,” she coughs. “I know my words of
Epilogue (One year later) Jacob POV Jocasta cuts up paper-thin slices of watermelon, Liam’s favorite. “Thanks, Mommy,” he says, grabs the bowl from her and dashes outside. The house is quiet and I take advantage of having her to myself for a few seconds. Switching on the old kitchen radio, a slow song plays across the static. She’s clearing up the watermelon peels on the kitchen counter, and I take her by the hand and give her a twirl. She has a daisy in her long hair - a gift from Hope who insisted on putting it in her mouth instead of giving it to her mama. “What are you doing?” she smiles. “I’m serenading my wife,” I say and hold her close while we slow dance with the song. She giggles, “We’re going to be late.” “They can wait,” I say and inhale her sweet scent; she smells like the ocean and baby powder. While the soft male voice is singing about giving a little love this time, I dip her low and kiss her on the mouth. A moan escapes her lips and she kisses me back. Little
Jacob is stunned. It’s the first time he’s heard this too. We don’t say anything for a few seconds and wait for the heartbreaking news to settle in. “We have Liam and Hope,” I say. “They’re more than we could wish for.” He takes Hope from my arms and cradles her, whispering into her ear, “Yes, much more than we could wish for.” Liam wants a piece of the action and attaches himself to his dad’s leg, “My turn.” We laugh and Jacob bends down and grabs Liam by the scruff of his T-shirt, “Okay Buddy, your turn.” With both of them in arms, Jacob is finding it hard to balance them, “Yep, I think two are enough.” That night I dream of my mother, the dream as vivid as an oil painting. All my past memories are coming back. It’s as if being given a second lease on life had somehow unlocked a part of my brain I had buried for years. I remember playing in the courtyard garden at Mellon Estate and going on holidays with my folks. And then there’s the memory of that photo - it’s the very first
Emily/Jocasta POV Imagine a door opening between life and death. Which one would you choose? The answer’s not that simple, is it? Death would finally bring me peace, stilling the chaotic world around me. Life is for the living as Liam once told me. But where would that leave me? My fate has been assigned - I am to die from a disease that will ravage my body. Soon, my limbs won’t obey my commands, and I’ll slowly start to lose my mind. That is no way to live. The incessant wail of a baby is calling me, beckoning me to make a decision. It’s the sound of my little girl telling me time is running out - choose now or forever hold my peace. I’ve made up my mind - I choose love. --- I’m laying on a cold, steel table. There’s a commotion all around me. Someone shouts, “We’re losing her!” and I feel something hard putting pressure on my chest. The shock of an electric current jolts my body back to life. I’ve returned to the land of living. “She’s awake! She’s awake!” When I look around m
I’m in the conservatory with Liam. Dust motes are floating in the sun’s rays while we sit side by side, both of us with a notebook.He’s making squiggles on a page, round and round until the pencil pierces through to the next page. “Do you think Mom loves us?” he asks.“Why do you ask that?” I glance at him and stop drawing. I’m trying to sketch gladiolus flowers from memory but I keep on getting stuck on the intricate detail of the petals. This is my third attempt. I tear the page from the notebook and throw it onto the heap of pages collecting next to me.“Last night she told me I’m not a good boy after I wet the bed. I can’t help it, Emily. Sometimes, it just comes out,” he grimaces.“It’s not your fault, you do know that?” I add. “Mom just gets upset really fast.”“I know, it’s that when she gets like that, I get scared,” he says.I move closer to him, “Do you know, when I get scared, I just tell myself that soon it will be over. Mom doesn’t stay angry for long. You just have to w
Emily/Jocasta POVYou know when people describe their near-death experiences as walking towards a bright light? Mine was nothing like that.For me, it was falling into a vat of creamy liquid and being suspended between space and time. The protection of the womb-like state offered me comfort and reassurance that I would be fine.Why would I want to go back to a world of uncertainty and sorrow when everything I want is right here?Memories are flashing through my mind, firing off like sparks from a fire, But they are muddled up and confusing. I can’t tell which ones are Emily’s or Jocasta’s. It’s hard to concentrate on just one at a time.I close my eyes and focus on one in particular; it’s of a beautiful woman cradling a baby in her arms. She’s standing in a nursery, and there’s a quilted blanket in the crib.She starts singing a lullaby, and it’s the same one Ophelia sang months ago when I first discovered my real identity. I gasp in recognition - it’s my mother.She can’t see me, but
The parking garage is quiet and empty. None of the day shift staff have arrived yet. I stand against the cold wall and gather my skittled thoughts.I was wrong to get angry at Thaddeus. None of this is his fault. If there’s anyone to blame, it has to be me. I’m the only one that’s known about Jocasta’s diagnosis.“Jacob,” shouts Thaddeus from the emergency exit. He jogs towards me and tries to speak but struggles to catch his breath.“Look, I’m sorry. I was so desperate for her to get better, that I may have been too hasty to get her on the treatment,” he breathes. “I honestly thought it was going to work.”“I don’t blame you,” I say. “I was angry and lashed out at you.”“Blame me if you want, because I blame myself,” he says. There’s a dejected look in his eye.“No, I should have told her the truth,” I admit.“The truth about what?” he asks and strands upright.This lie is killing me, I can’t let it destroy my wife and baby as well. Maybe if I confess my sins, my punishment might not
Jacob POVI am woken up by the buzzing of my phone on the nightstand. When I answer, it’s Dr. Richards on the line, “Mr. Collin, you need to come to the hospital now.”My brain sends signals to my limbs to move into action. Like a robot, I mechanically get dressed in the dark and rush to Liam’s room. He’s fast asleep, but I need to get him into the car. I can’t afford to lose precious time by calling someone over to babysit, so I bundle him up and carry him into the elevator.While we’re on our way down to the parking garage, he opens his eyes, “Dad, what’s going on?”I shush him back to sleep and he’s back in dreamland.The drive to the hospital is excruciating. Dr. wouldn’t have called me at this hour if it wasn’t an emergency. My mind keeps on playing different scenarios, all of them leading to the same end results.Keeping my concentration on the road is proving difficult and I struggle to keep to the speed limit, scared that I may get there too late.When I get there, I leave the
One evening I got a surprise visitor. There’s a knock behind the door and a wispy brunette peeks her head through the crack; it’s Ophelia.“Helloooo,” she smiles. She’s come bearing gifts, carrying a huge bunch of roses.“Wow, are those for me?” I ask.“Yes, she says. “But if you don’t like them, I can give them to the lady down the hall. I walked into her room by mistake thinking it was yours.”I respond by snatching the flowers from her, and joking, “Give them here!”“I’m glad to see you’re in good spirits,” she adds. “Thaddeus says you’ve been feeling very tired.”I sit upright and say, “That’s an understatement. Let’s just say I may fall asleep while you’re gossiping, so you better make it extra juicy.”Ophelia looks nervously around her, “Then I got nothing for you, I’m afraid.”She takes a seat opposite my bed. I can see something’s bothering her. “Hey, what’s up?” I ask her.“It’s Astrid, I haven’t heard from her for the past few months,” she says. “The last time I spoke to her
Emily's POV The gloomy glare of the overhead lights fills the waiting room. I can hear them above me, the small zaps of electricity going from one light to the next. They certainly skimped on the decor for a hospital owned by a billionaire. A nurse approaches me. She looks at her file through her way too thick glasses. "Miss Adams?" she inquires hurriedly. She motions for me to follow her, and I nod. She leads me down a long corridor, her heels clicking on the floor as I trail behind. We come to a halt in front of a room with the words "Kidney Dialysis" printed above the door. My brother, Liam, is inside, hooked up to a dialysis machine. His doctor, a huge man with bulging eyes and a waistline to match, stands behind him. "Ah, Miss Adams," he says as he shakes my hand firmly. "My name is Dr. Brook, and I'll be Liam's doctor while he's here at Saving Grace Hospital. As you are aware, dialysis does not appear to be working for Liam. And you don't present as a suitable donor because
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