The Severance

Cassandra swallowed, her fingers fidgeted against each other under the table.

That reaction…it meant something, right? They wouldn't just agree to cut ties with her over this, right?

She bit her lip, watching as Evelyn scrambled to get the paper from Bernard and read through it.

“Cassandra, What's the meaning of this?” Evelyn’s eyes snapped to her as she shot to her feet. “You want to cut ties? Have you lost your mind?”

Cassandra’s throat moved as she sat up, trying to keep her voice as firm as possible, “If you are going to force me to give up my body to have a child, I should get something in return, right?”

“Didn't your father agree to give you ten percent shares? Isn't that enough?” Evelyn complained bitterly.

Cassandra let out a dry chuckle, “Giving me shares is further tying me down to the company and that's not exactly for me.”

“You both might not usually give me due credit, but I know I am an asset to Hart Interiors.” She started firmly.

For the first time, Cassandra wasn't begging to be acknowledged. She was bargaining her worth.

“That's why I am only asking for $10M. Money equivalent of 10% shares of Hart Interiors.”

“Clara is your sister for goodness sake. Don't you have any form of empathy towards her?” Evelyn snapped at her, obviously frustrated.

Empathy. The word almost made Cassandra laugh.

How could she have what they never showed to her?

Bernard was still fuming in his seat, but he looked like he was having a second thought.

“All my life you’ve always ever made me give up something for Clara…” Cassandra's throat tightened as the words escaped her mouth. “If I am going to give up my body, I have to make sure it is the last thing I give to this family.”

Cassandra watched as her parents dropped their heads, a hint of guilt flashing through their faces.

“I am scared you will ask for my life next. And I don't think I will be able to give that.”

“CASSANDRA!” Bernard slammed his palm onto the table, his voice trembling.

He shot to his feet, a finger pointing angrily at her, “How dare you talk to your parents like that? How did you become so disrespectful?”

Cassandra remained rooted in her seat, her head dropped as tears fell slowly from her eyes.

It took her fifteen years to finally speak against their absurd favoritism, she wasn't going to back down just like that.

“Bernard, calm down.” Evelyn whispered softly, gently pulling him away from the table.

Cassandra raised her head and saw her parents standing just a few feet away, whispering something to each other.

Her heart hammered in her chest, her nail digging into her palm nervously. She had forced them to this situation and now, watching them make a decision terrified her. Then they walked back to their seats. Evelyn still had a soft smile. Bernard’s frown had disappeared but he wasn't exactly smiling.

“Fine,” Evelyn said, reaching for the severance form again.

Cassandra’s fingers clenched around her dress, her chest rising and falling fast.

Her eyes never left the paper in Evelyn's hand.

She silently prayed the next sound would be paper tearing instead of a pen scratching across the page.

“We are going to sign it.” Evelyn added, reaching for a pen.

Cassandra’s heart dropped into her stomach as two hot tears flew down her eyes.

She opened her mouth, but no words came out.

She sat back, watching as the two people that claim to have given birth to her sign away their rights to call them parents like it was nothing.

“You are usually very obedient, so we will put up with your tantrum for now until you come to your senses.” Evelyn added, passing the paper to Bernard.

Bernard signed begrudgingly, “I can put up with this stupid paper, but $10 million is a lot of money.”

Cassandra stood up, her chair scraping roughly on the marble floor, “If I don't receive an alert, I will stop the procedure…” she paused, the word replaying in her head.

She remembered where she had heard that word today and her heart sank.

The realization sent a chill down her spine, her legs weakening.

She lowered herself back to her seat, her red eyes locking at her parents.

“You are so eager to make me the surrogate, don't I have to take some test to be sure I am in good condition for this procedure?”

The forced grin on Evelyn’s face quickly turned genuine as she rushed to her side and started to massage her shoulders.

“Don't worry about that. We already took some blood work tests on you yesterday, plus the information we have from your previous procedures, the doctor believes you are a good fit.” She said plainly, completely unaware of the turmoil boiling up with Cassandra.

“You just need to make sure you get proper rest and eat healthy from now on and everything will go smoothly.”

Bernard took a sip of water, “I think the doctor said she needs about two weeks of estrogen and progesterone injections before the implant.”

“Yes,” Evelyn said excitedly, moving from Cassandra across the table to get her phone. “I better contact Clara and the doctor to tell him we are ready.”

Evelyn dialed a number as she walked to the living room.

Bernard dropped his glass and started to walk after her.

They were already making preparations around Cassandra’s womb, yet no one noticed the tears streaming down her cheeks.

No one remembered how much she was scared of injections. No one cared how she felt about any of this.

Cassandra pressed her palm to her mouth, crying bitterly into it.

From the moment Clara informed them that they needed a surrogate, they had already decided it was her.

They had conducted intensive tests on her without her knowledge. They accessed her previous medical records without telling her.

She had realized too late that signing this severance form was never a hard choice for them.

The only person it was a hard choice for was herself.

But she was quick to realize that that money is the only thing that would truly be hers at the end of this arrangement. The only thing her parents would truly feel bad for losing.

Cassandra’s fingers dug into her palm.

Then she wiped her face with the back of her palm and grabbed the paper from the table.

She folded it into a small piece, tucking it neatly into the pocket of her dress.

As she walked past them in the living room, she paused, looking at their excited faces as they spoke on the phone.

“If I don't receive the money in my account by the end of the two weeks of injections, I will not continue with the implant.” Her voice was firm, final.

Before any of her parents could say a word, she turned and strode outside the house.

As she reached the door, she pulled out her phone and dialed a number, fighting the urge to not cry.

“Sera,” her voice shook as she said the name, “Are you down to get drunk?”

“This might be the last time in ten months.”