Emily's POV
I'm standing in front of a gigantic, gray building that looms over me like a serpent about to devour me. My feet feel shaky like jello when I take a step towards the door, and they refuse to heed what my brain is indicating.
"Keep it together." I tell myself
"Good day, and welcome to Collin Towers. Do you have an appointment?" inquires the cheery receptionist.
'You've got this, Emily,' I say to myself as I go into the glistening entryway.
"I'm here to see Charlotte Collins, yes. I have a meeting with her at 2 p.m.," I add, smiling.
Her demeanor shifts in an instant. She sits up straight and buttons her jacket. She begins to fidget with her hair and appears uncomfortable, almost terrified.
"Whom shall I say is here?"
"It's Emily Adams," I say.
She picks up the phone and begins speaking softly. Then she motions for me to have a seat and asks if I want something to drink before returning to her desk.
I make myself at ease and grab a magazine. Jacob Collin appears on the cover, smiling heartily as he stands with his arms folded. His eyes are turquoise blue, and his skin is copper. He could pass for a model in his crisp white shirt and blue jeans.
It's easy to see why he's been labeled New York's most eligible bachelor, with that sculpted jaw and high cheekbones. The angle at which the photo was taken gives the impression that he is staring directly at me. I start blushing as I feel a tiny flutter in my chest.
I had not heard anything for about two weeks after writing that email. Then, one evening, an answer arrived: "Dear Miss Adams, Mrs Collin would be delighted to invite you to Collin Towers. Please respond with a suitable date and time."
The receptionist approaches me and motions for me to follow her. She examines me, dressed in a fancy suit, and her gaze is drawn to my skirt. It's the most okay-ish item I could find in my closet, since most of my stuff are thrift store discoveries. I begin ruffling down the pleats and smile weakly at her.
We take the elevator to the roof. She urges me to remove my shoes before approaching the double oak doors and then removes her own. I'm perplexed, but I do what she instructs. I also give her my purse and phone.
We step upon what can only be described as softness in its purest form as she unlocks the doors. My feet brush across the softest wool, and I can't help but smile.
An old lady comes out of nowhere and extends her hand in greeting.
I start murmuring apologies to her, startled.
She's wearing a black satin gown with a strand of pearls around her neck.
"No need to be sorry, dear." She doesn't smile; instead, she just stares at me.
The receptionist rushes away, leaving us alone.
"So you're Emily Adams." I must admit that your email piqued my interest. What a tragedy for your brother. I'm so sorry to hear that," she says without introducimg herself. I believe Charlotte Collin doesn't need to be introduced.
Charlotte takes a seat on a brown leather sofa and puffs on her e-cigarette. "Don't mind this," she says as she exhales the smoke. "A woman needs a little enjoyment at 80, and this is my form of enjoyment. Please have a seat so we can get to know each other."
The receptionist returns with a folder full of documents and as quickly as she arrives she exits. Charlotte takes out a pen and places the documents in front of me once she's gone.
"Before we proceed, I must insist that you sign this non disclosure agreement. There's no need to read it; I've had my lawyers look over it and everything is in order." She makes it sound like a demand rather than a plea.
That joyful feeling I had vanishes in an instant.
I sign each page as I swiftly scan over the documentation. The pen in my hand is trembling, and I can see from the corner of my eye that she is aware of it as well.
"I'm glad we got the nitty gritty out of the way. I'm seeking a surrogate for, shall we say, a colleague. If the implantation goes well and you bring the baby to term, you will be paid $350,000." She beams.
"Of course, I have conditions. Every doctor's appointment will be accompanied by a handler. The doctor will be chosen by me. During your pregnancy, you must adhere to a strict diet and work no job. Is it true that you work as a waitress?" Charlotte inquires as she takes another puff on her e-cigarette.
"I do," I confirm.
"Well, that has to come to an end if you agree to the terms of our agreement," she replies. "This child will be valuable cargo, and I cannot risk its life while you do what you do." And then she pauses before she adds. "And one more thing. We're going the old-fashioned way. I can't afford for word to spread that someone connected with the Collins is seeing a fertility specialist."
"Excuse me, I don't know what you mean," I answer, surprised. I wasn't expecting that at all.
"Don't play smart with me, girl. From the looks of you, modesty is not at the top of your priority list," she cackles.
I should be insulted, but I'm not. In the most sly way possible, this woman called me a whore.
"So you want me to have sex with this person?" I inquire, ignoring her weak laugh.
"Yes, that's exactly what I'm asking of you." She exhales once more.
"I had no idea this wasn’t the initial plan. You made no mention of this in your ad," I add, fumbling over my words.
She looks me in the eyes and says, "If you don't have the will for it, then I'm afraid we're done here." She motions for me to stand up.
"Wait," I half-pleaded as I stood up. "Can I at the very least think about it?"
Charlotte appears irritated. Her patience is beginning to fray.
"What is there to consider? You're either in or you're out. I believe your brother doesn't have much time," she says.
I ask for a few more days to think it over, and she reluctantly agrees. I stroll across carpet contemplating my options as I open the oak door.
"Oh, and one last thing, dear," she says, turning on the charm once more. "If you agree, you must be as discreet as possible. You're not supposed to know each other's identities. That is what I expect of you."
Charlotte's POV What a stupid girl to turn down my offer. She clearly has no notion with whom she is dealing. It's absurd that I have to get my hands dirty, but it needs to be done. Jacob will be grateful later. For the time being, I need to get that gal on board."Ava!" I yell at the door. "Get in here."Ava enters the room. I look at her shoes; she hasn't taken them off yet."Shoes!" I give the order, and she instantly knocks them off. "Find out who Liam Adams' attending physician is at Saving Grace and call them. Pronto."She scribbles something on her tablet, and says "Yes, Ma'am," and rushes out the door.My phone begins to ring. It's Jacob calling."My love, it's wonderful to hear from you. What has my grandson been up to recently?" I say into the phone."Good day, Gran. I'm sorry for calling at the last minute, but something has come up and I won't be able to make dinner tonight," Jacob apologizes."That's just OK, love. Forget about it. Have you given our chat last month any
Emily's POV"This feels really silly," he says, tugging at his mask. "I know we're not permitted to take these things off, but I am beginning to get a feeling like some members-only underground sex party," he smirks. I chuckled nervously. "That's exactly what I was thinking.""I'm sorry if I startled you; it was not my intention. My name is Samuel, but you can call me Sam," he says, laughing. My hands begin to shake. I'm not sure if I'm prepared for this."That's alright, let's just say I'm new at this," I explain.I let out a small sob and then take a long breath. Olivia is on speed dial in case something goes wrong. She can't do anything though, she doesn't even have a car. The realisation came to me only recently.He detects my nervousness and offers us both a drink of wine. His fingertips touch mine as he hands me a glass, and I feel like I'm imprisoned in a time warp. Through the mask, I can see his piercing blue eyes. They appear to be familiar."Come on, let's take it slow. We
Emily's POVMy stomach resembles a bulging soccer ball. Fortunately, if I wear baggy clothes, no one will realize that I'm seven months pregnant. Staring in the mirror at myself is like staring at someone else.I'm overweight, and I'm uncomfortable. I can't walk more than a few steps without being out of breath. And then there's the heat... It's the absolute worst.I've given my notice at the restaurant at Catherine's request, which I'm not thrilled about. I spend most of my days in my apartment, bored and agitated, fantasizing about the day my swollen feet would fit back into my tiny sandals and I'll be able to wear that gorgeous little dress I'd kept for summer.Except for one person, no one knows about my "condition," and for the time being, I believe I can get away with it. But one afternoon, on my way back from a doctor's visit, I ran into Rachel, my ex-restaurant manager."Be careful, you'll hurt yourself," she warns, glancing down at the now-visible bump."You know what you're
Emily POVMy phone pings with a notification. It's a text saying that $350K has been deposited in my bank account. I throw the phone against the wall, shattering it into pieces, and let out a scream. The neighbor bangs against the paper thin wall, yelling at me to stop yelling.This feels like a bad dream with no ending. I go back to bed and lie there, just staring at nothingTwo weeks ago I woke up in a hospital bed feeling hollow. I reached down and touched my belly it was flat and empty. When a nurse walked into the room and checked my pulse, I asked her about the baby. She just smiled and walked away, saying the doctor would be with me in a second.The second turned into half an hour. Eventually, Dr Sophie came waltzing in and composed herself before telling me it was a healthy baby boy."Now you can go on living your life," she said. Almost like that was an option now. I got up, dressed myself, and made my way back to my empty apartment.While back home, I tried going about my da
Jacob POVIt's a balmy evening. The full moon shines brightly in the night sky.Holding my stare in the mirror, I button up my shirt and straighten my trousers. My hands start to shake, so I pour myself a neat whisky. What's that thing about Dutch courage? Hopefully it works, because I'm nervous as fuck.Taking a deep breath, I put my mask on, turn the doorknob, and opened the door. There she is, standing across the bed from me. You know when you a play a scene over and over again in your head of how it's supposed to go? This wasn't it. Nothing could prepare me for this exquisite specimen standing before me.I'm a man of few words, and even now I'm struggling to string them. together just to get out a "Hi." How am I supposed to have a conversation with her if I can't even speak?She's wearing a black silk dress that is hugging every curve of her body, teasing but not enticing.Her eyes are covered by the mask, but I can see lightly-freckled cheeks accompanying blood red lips. Those li
Jacob POVSix weeks later and I still can’t get her out of my mind. If I concentrate long enough, I can still smell her hair. The very thought of her sends my insides melting into a congealed mess.My grandmother comes waltzing into my office. She has big news—I can tell by her Cheshire cat grin.“Darling, I had to tell you straight away. Our surrogate is pregnant!” she says, and she comes over to give me an awkward hug—displays of affection are not exactly her strong point.I am at a loss for words and blurt out, “That’s great news, Grandmother.”She looks at me and says, “I thought you’d be more excited? What has gotten my dear Garth down?”I’ve grown tired of her secrecy and games.“Grandmother, who is she?” I ask without breaking eye contact.She’s playing for time, and looks confused when she asks, “Whatever do you mean?”Desperate for an answer, I probe her again.“Who is the woman having my child? I have the right to know.”She’s not making this easy for me. “What does it matte
Jacob POVThe text came through just as I was wrapping up the last meeting for the day. We had the deal in the bag, and I was just about ready to fly back home.I read it three times over just to make sure.“You have a healthy baby boy, weighing 5.5lb. Congratulations!”It can’t be. The surrogate is only due in two months.Eager to get my grandmother on the phone, I dial furiously. The second she answers, she says, “Isn’t it amazing! You’re a father now, dear.”I struggle to get a word in as she harps on.“Wait, isn’t the baby only due in a few months?” I ask.“Yes, but we don’t have control over these things. The good news is that he’s healthy.”The realization slowly sinks in. I’m a dad now! Within a matter of hours, I’m on a private jet, heading back home. The hours tick by in a slow progression of seconds.I try sleeping, but when I close my eyes, all I see is our beautiful baby boy. I wonder if he looks like her. And then it occurs to me. I have no idea what the color of her eyes
Jacob POV“Dr Brook, please have a seat,” I say as I shake his sweaty hand. “I believe you were the attending physician for Liam Adams.”Dr Brook looks nervously around him. “Yes, that is correct. Sad that he didn’t survive after all he’s been through,” he says.“And why do you think that is?” I ask pointedly.“Mr Collin, what are you insinuating? I don’t like the direction this conversation is going,” he says, looking more and more uncomfortable.I take Liam's folder and throw it in front of him.“I am not insinuating anything, Doctor. I just want to know the facts.”He squirms like someone in the hot seat, but states in an authoritative voice, “The fact is, we couldn’t offer medical intervention because his guardian, meaning his sister, couldn’t afford the treatment.”“Why did this not come to my attention? I’m struggling to understand why you didn’t present this boy’s case before the board of directors,” I say.He shrugs his shoulders in response. “I didn’t think it warranted going
Hope 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