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The waiting game

Author: S.T.Rose
last update publish date: 2026-07-05 12:33:55

Kyra’s pov-

My small apartment was both my sanctuary and my office. Working as a virtual assistant gave me freedom, but the hours were long and the pay tight. Today, like every day for the past two weeks, my laptop sat open on the dining table, notifications buzzing as I managed schedules and emails for clients scattered across time zones.

My fingers moved quickly, but my mind was tangled in a different kind of work, the endless mental checklist of the unknown.

Every slight ache, every mood swing was magnified.

Was this the sign?

The calendar on my wall was marked in red, counting down to the day I could take the pregnancy test. I avoided looking at the date too often, afraid of the anxiety that followed.

Sometimes I allowed myself to daydream, a tiny baby with my eyes, my laugh, maybe even Zaire's strong jawline. But those moments were fleeting, chased away by the cold weight of reality.

I was alone in this.

At night, I curled into my worn-out couch, scrolling through online forums filled with women like me, women ready to be mothers on their own terms. Some were hopeful, others broken, but all shared the same fierce determination.

Two weeks.

Two weeks of waiting.

**Zaire**

My world was a palace of glass and steel, a high-rise penthouse office overlooking the city's glittering skyline. As the founder and CEO of one of the fastest-growing tech empires in the country, I was used to commanding rooms, closing deals, and making decisions with the world watching.

My tailored suit was crisp, my every movement calculated. My life was meticulously organized, except for this.

The phone on my sleek mahogany desk sat silent, the screen dark except for a single calendar alert: "Kyra Taylor – Meeting Scheduled."

My assistant had set it up without telling me.

I ran a hand through my locs, the weight of the past two weeks settling like a storm inside me.

The man who controlled millions of dollars and thousands of employees couldn't control this one thing, an unexpected potential fatherhood.

I poured myself a glass of whiskey but didn't touch it.

Every time my phone buzzed, I flinched, wondering if it was news from the clinic or from Kyra.

We weren't connected beyond that sterile doctor's office and a shared biological link I hadn't consented to.

But that link was about to change everything.

Two weeks.

Two weeks of waiting.

**Kyra**

The clock struck 6:42 p.m. when I finally shut my laptop and shoved it aside.

My eyes burned from staring at screens all day. My back ached. But it wasn't just work that wore me down, it was the wait. The uncertainty. The what-ifs stacking up like unpaid bills.

I needed a break.

Actually, I needed my girls.

I grabbed my phone and opened the group chat labeled "Bad B*tches Only 💅🏽" and typed:

"Y'all got time for a FaceTime? I need to talk."

Within seconds, my best friend Bri responded:

"Say less. I'm pouring wine."

Another came through from Nia:

"Already in my bonnet, don't judge me."

And finally, Lex chimed in:

"Give me five, I'm putting my kids in bed now. But I'm nosy so don't start without me."

Minutes later, their familiar faces popped up on my screen, Bri in a silk robe with a glass of red wine, Nia wrapped in a leopard print headscarf, and Lex half-whispering from the hallway.

"Alright, spill," Bri said, eyes narrowed. "You look like you got hit by a plot twist."

I let out a breath and flopped back against the couch. "Y'all aren't ready."

"Oh, we ready," Nia said, adjusting her camera. "Is this about a man? A bill? Or your uterus?"

I gave them a look. "Unfortunately... all of the above."

I told them everything.

From the clinic visit.

To the insemination.

To the moment Dr. Quinn said the donor wasn't who I picked.

To Zaire Cruz, fine, tall, and completely not supposed to be part of my story.

The line went silent for a second after I finished.

Then Lex, whisper-yelling:

"Girl... what in the Lifetime movie hell is this?!"

Nia screamed, "Wait so you might be pregnant by a real man who didn't even donate?!"

"Who freezes their sperm for personal use?" Bri added. "Is he like... famous?"

"He's rich," I muttered. "Owns a tech company. Drives something that looked like it cost more than my degree."

"Oh, he rich rich," Bri said, sipping dramatically. "So you might be carrying a tech heir?"

"This isn't funny," I snapped, though a laugh escaped anyway. "Y'all, I'm freaking out. I wanted this baby on my terms. I didn't sign up for this drama."

Lex leaned in, voice softer now. "You still want it?"

I paused.

My hand touched my stomach unconsciously.

"I don't know," I whispered. "I think so. I think I still want the baby. But everything feels... hijacked."

"Has he reached out?" Nia asked.

"No. And I haven't either."

The line went quiet again.

Then Bri leaned forward. "Well, until you know for sure, don't drive yourself crazy. Take the test when it's time. And if it's positive? We ride at dawn."

"For real," Lex said. "Baby or no baby, you're not alone."

"We got you," Nia added.

I blinked fast as my chest tightened.

They always knew how to pull me back from the edge.

"Thanks," I said, smiling for the first time all day. "Y'all are crazy, but I love you."

"Love you more, mama," Bri grinned. "Now go pour yourself a drink. And if Zaire turns out to be a problem..."

"I got bail money," Nia said without hesitation.

I laughed, really laughed.

For the first time in two weeks, the weight felt a little lighter.

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  • His accidental surrogate    Agreements

    Kyra** The automatic doors of the clinic slid open with a soft whoosh, letting in warm air and the faint sound of city traffic. I stepped out first, arms crossed, sunglasses low on my nose, my purse clutched a little too tightly. Zaire followed behind, his long strides relaxed but his mind wasn't. We walked in silence toward the parking lot. Both unsure of what to say now that the news had been spoken aloud. I was pregnant. He was the father. And neither of us knew the first damn thing about each other. I stopped at my car, digging for my keys, but my fingers were shaky. Zaire noticed. "You alright?" "I'm fine," I said too fast. He didn't call me on it. Just leaned against the passenger side of my car, watching me with unreadable eyes. "You want me to drive you home?" he asked, low. I scoffed. "No offense, but I still don't know you well enough to let you behind my wheel." Zaire cracked a small smirk. "Fair." I finally looked up at him, crossing my arms

  • His accidental surrogate    The appointment

    **Kyra** The clinic lobby was exactly as I remembered it, too clean, too white, too cold. Even the air felt sterile, like it didn't want to carry emotion. I sat in the waiting area with my hands folded tightly in my lap, thumb rubbing against the edge of my sweater sleeve. My stomach was in knots. I hadn't slept. Barely ate. Two weeks had felt like two years. Every morning had been a guessing game, was that nausea or nerves? Did my breasts hurt from PMS or something more? I had refused to take a test at home. I needed to hear it from a professional. I needed it to be real, or not real. No guessing. No wishful thinking. The receptionist finally called my name. "Kyra Taylor?" I stood, legs stiff, and followed the nurse into the same hallway, past the same neutral artwork, into the same room where my life had possibly shifted without warning. "You can sit here. Dr. Quinn will be in shortly," the nurse said, offering a kind smile before closing the door behind her. I

  • His accidental surrogate    Distraction

    Zaire’s pov- By the time the elevator chimed, I was out of the tub and wrapped in a dark gray towel, steam still rising behind me. I padded across the penthouse with slow, measured steps, my phone left behind on the marble bath tray. I opened the door just before Savannah knocked. She walked in like she always did, heels clicking against polished floors, long legs wrapped in a champagne colored trench, lips glossed, skin glowing. Her hair was bone straight tonight, falling over one shoulder. A red designer clutch swung from her hand. "You're always so dramatic with the lighting," she said with a smile, glancing around. "It's giving mood." I didn't say much. Just stepped aside and let her pass. Savannah paused to set her purse down and then turned to face me, her eyes sliding over my towel covered body. "You're quiet." I moved toward the mini bar without responding, pouring myself another bourbon. "You want anything?" I asked. "Yeah, I'll take the usual," she said, sl

  • His accidental surrogate    Relax my mind

    Zaire’s pov- My blacked-out Escalade rolled to a slow stop in front of the towering residential building downtown, my sanctuary in the sky. The doorman opened the vehicle door with a respectful nod. "Evening, Mr. Cruz." I nodded, phone pressed to my ear, jaw tight. "Tell them I'll review the proposal in the morning. I'm done for today." I stepped into the building, past marble floors and gold accents, into a private elevator that only required my fingerprint to operate. The doors closed. Silence. I finally let out the breath I hadn't realized I was holding. By the time the elevator opened into my penthouse, floor to ceiling windows, curated modern art, low lighting, I had already pulled off my tie and tossed it on the marble island in the kitchen. I didn't feel like myself lately. The calls, the meetings, the performance, it all still ran like a machine. But something in me was out of sync. I poured myself a drink, neat bourbon, and sank into the soft leather of

  • His accidental surrogate    The waiting game

    Kyra’s pov- My small apartment was both my sanctuary and my office. Working as a virtual assistant gave me freedom, but the hours were long and the pay tight. Today, like every day for the past two weeks, my laptop sat open on the dining table, notifications buzzing as I managed schedules and emails for clients scattered across time zones. My fingers moved quickly, but my mind was tangled in a different kind of work, the endless mental checklist of the unknown. Every slight ache, every mood swing was magnified. Was this the sign? The calendar on my wall was marked in red, counting down to the day I could take the pregnancy test. I avoided looking at the date too often, afraid of the anxiety that followed. Sometimes I allowed myself to daydream, a tiny baby with my eyes, my laugh, maybe even Zaire's strong jawline. But those moments were fleeting, chased away by the cold weight of reality. I was alone in this. At night, I curled into my worn-out couch, scrolling throug

  • His accidental surrogate    Processing

    Kyra’s pov- I barely remembered driving home. The world outside my car window blurred past. Stoplights, people, sunlight. None of it registered. My hands were tight on the wheel, and my heart was lodged firmly in my throat. As soon as I got inside my apartment, I dropped my bag, kicked off my shoes, and slid down to the floor right there in the entryway. I was possibly pregnant. With a stranger’s baby. Except he wasn't just any stranger. He had a face. A name. A low, smooth voice that sent a sudden wave of heat down my spine, even while my head spun with sheer panic. Zaire Cruz. He wasn’t what I had imagined when I chose the word donor. He wasn’t anonymous, and he certainly wasn’t distant. He was real, solid, and infuriatingly calm about the entire nightmare. And now, he was tangled up in a moment I had crafted so carefully for myself. I had spent months preparing for this decision. There were endless therapy sessions, late-night research, and hours spent staring at

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