Infertile Lies: My Ex-wife is a Renowned Urologist

“Sign the surrogacy agreement or get all your accounts frozen!” The word hit Vanessa like a punch. She stopped, one foot on the bottom stair, eyes rolling in exhaustion.

Was this all she got after a long day in the hospital trying to cope after learning that her brother was dead? Shouts. Threats. All at once from the person she shared a home with.

“I thought we planned on going to the hospital tomorrow to get ourselves checked before...”

“Oh! Shut up!” Travis smacked the table and Vanessa let out a frustrating sigh.

“You always feel you're smarter than I am. Huh!” He concluded, leaning forward to her.

“I'm sorry.” Vanessa pleaded.

“My stepmother called me today. He leaned even closer, his eyes cold.

“ The inheritance hearing is in three weeks. And if our union can't provide an heir then my stepmother takes everything—my inheritance stripped off because of your stupid selfishness!” His breath sharpened. Vanessa's face fell. She mustn't dare look at him when he's furious.

“All your brain thinks about are the four walls of the hospital. Your marital duties kicked aside to suffer.” He clenched his fist, watching her fold into her skin.

“I understand you need an heir,” Her voice cracked as she tilted her head slightly. “But I got a call from home today.” Her eyes dimmed.

“And what has that gotten to do with this?” Travis responded nonchalantly.

“My brother… is dead.” Tears clouded Vanessa's eyes, her palms pressed to her mouth. Travis paused, his dark eyes lit up.

“He died of prostate cancer.” She clutched her left arm to her stomach, bowing slightly.

“Condolences,” his words are nonchalant, “I will send something across to your family.”

Vanessa lifted up her face to look at him. She noticed how his eyes kept drifting to the staircase like he was wincing at someone. She shoved it off.

Was he being serious? Was that all he could say at such a time like this? Vanessa’s head spun in circles.

“I just lost a brother. Doesn't that mean anything to you?” She asked in puffy red eyes.

“And I'm about to lose everything to my stepmother. Think about it and stop being unreasonable.”

“You call me unreasonable?” Vanessa's eyes squeezed as she swallowed hard deeply.

“The surrogacy would be done first thing tomorrow morning. And that's final!” Travis continued, his expression dark.

“Surrogacy requires medical justification. We need to get a fertility test before opting for surrogacy.” She dried her tears forcefully.

“And as your husband I'm stating that surrogacy be done!” He fired back— voice deepening.

********

“Are you so barren that you're scared another might take your place?” Sandra's voice cut through the air from upstairs, her hands on the rail as she walked down majestically in her skimpy wine gown.

Vanessa rolled her eyes, tracing the voice. Sandra. The cousin who'd stayed over for a month now.

“Surprised.”

Vanessa's mouth dropped.

“W…What's going on here?” She stepped back a bit, staring at both Sandra and her husband.

“Are you blind? I'm clearly filling that gap you obviously cannot fill.” The words pierced her like a knife, making her throat burn.

Vanessa looked at her husband hoping he would say something but he folded his arms watching Sandra display her voluptuous theatrics.

“You won't be going through the hassle of looking for a surrogate mom. At least, you have never done in five years now”

Vanessa bowed her fist to her side, her veins throbbing on her forehead.

“You better not push me.”

“What are you gonna do? Hit me?” She scoffed leaning closer to Vanessa who balled her fist tightly.

“You should reserve your strength for tomorrow because the doctors will be needing your egg for the surrogacy.”

The sitting room twisted like a knot. Her eggs. Sandra's womb. Travis's child. This one hit her like a blow. Her brother was dead. And Travis didn't care. And now another woman was going to carry a child with her eggs. Something in Vanessa snapped, she lunged at Sandra, kicking her to the floor.

“Stop! Stop! You two stop!” Travis pushed his wife to the sofa before turning to meet Sandra who had sprawled on the ground rendering curses at Vanessa.

“Phew.” Vanessa spat. “Out of my way.” She shoved herself from Travis's grip, her feet wrestling through the stairs leading to her room.

The door slammed like a slap to her cheeks as her body pressed on it. Knuckles turned white. Fist clenched. She slid to the floor, tears streaking down her face. Her brother— gone. Prostate cancer. Her husband—surrogacy. All happening at the same time. Five years she'd waited. Five years watching Travis make excuses why she paused her career aside. And look where that got her— her brother dead. She reached for her phone and sat upright, then typed into her G****e search bar. “Universities specialising in Urology.” Scrolling through the site, her eyes scanned through searching for the apply button. Five years as a Medical Practitioner. Too broad. She needed a specialty in a field.

She stood up briskly, opened her drawer. Her fingers dug through the corners of the drawer until it got to her certificates. She held them tightly, her face sharp and grip firm. The picture of her brother flashed on her screensaver. She swallowed hard, forcefully pushing the lump that stood in her throat. Pressing her lips in slight grimace she scanned the entire document. All in haste. And when she was done. She filled in her necessary details,the university required five distinctions in Medicine or any medical related courses. She logged into her school portal, printed out her original results and uploaded them immediately before pressing the apply button. She heaved a sigh of relief then collapsed on the bed. Eyes searching the ceilings like they could give answers. She turned to the walls, her eyes landing on Travis's photograph.

Her throat tightened. Rage burned in her chest, so hot that she began searching through his closet. His wardrobe—anything that beared his name.

He must be hiding something. Her fingers dug into his luggage. Medical records. DNA. Anything close to fertility.

Pushing through a pile of clothes and shoving off unnecessary pamphlets, her knuckles turned white when she found a white document carrying their marriage compatibility test. Her eyes scanned through the document with her fingers hovering around the edge of the paper. The fertility part was erased. But the hospital's name stood at the top, boldly written in caps.

“First block Hospital.” Her lips pressed. She folded the paper into her bag and drove a hand through her hair. Travis was hiding something. She scrambled from the floor, bolting towards the door with the bag clutched to her chest. First block Hospital might have answers.

With that she dashed out of the mansion into one of her husband's Red Toyota Camry leaving the circumference of the mansion to the buzzing city of the hospital.