CHAPTER 3

“Rachael, I need you to come and get me.”

Lydia pressed the phone against her ear, wincing as she shifted against the passenger seat. Her free hand rested protectively over her lower abdomen, where every slight movement reminded her that she had given birth barely two days ago. She had been discharged less than an hour earlier, but the thought of returning to the Osborne manor was enough to make her stomach turn.

“Lydia?” Rachael's voice immediately sharpened with concern. “Where are you? What's wrong? Has something happened?”

“I'll explain when I get there. I just need somewhere to stay.”

There was a brief silence on the other end before Rachael responded. “You're coming to my house. Send me your location, and don't bother taking another taxi. I'll arrange for someone to pick you up.”

“Thank you.”

“Don't thank me. Just get here safely.”

The call ended, and Lydia lowered the phone into her lap. For several seconds, she stared through the window without really seeing anything.

She had imagined leaving the hospital with her husband beside her, perhaps carrying flowers and helping her into the car. She had imagined returning home to rest while they discussed the beautiful future awaiting their family.

Instead, Williams had disappeared with Clara after the latter dramatically collapsed in the hospital room.

Lydia had barely finished confronting them when Clara clutched her chest, staggered backwards, and fell into Williams's arms. He had immediately rushed her out of the room, calling for assistance and shouting for someone to get a doctor.

He hadn't even looked back at his wife.

Lydia had been left alone, still recovering from childbirth, with a nurse who had spent most of the time avoiding her questions. When she eventually asked about her discharge, she was informed that her husband had already made arrangements.

Not that she needed his permission anymore.

She had waited for him to return, but he never did. Clara and Williams had remained away until the following day, and by then Lydia had made up her mind. She wasn't going back to the Osborne manor, not even to collect her belongings.

There was nothing left for her in that house.

***

Rachael was waiting at the entrance when the car pulled up.

The moment Lydia stepped out, her friend's expression changed. She hurried forward, reaching for her arm before Lydia could take another step.

“Good Lord, Lydia!” Rachael exclaimed, her eyes travelling over her pale face. “Why are you standing like that? You should have called me earlier. Let me help you.”

“I'm fine,” Lydia murmured, attempting a smile.

“You're clearly not fine.” Rachael slipped an arm around her waist and carefully guided her towards the entrance. “And don't even think about pretending with me.”

Lydia wanted to argue, but the effort of walking had already begun to exhaust her. She leaned against her friend, allowing Rachael to support most of her weight as they made their way inside.

Once they reached the living room, Rachael helped her settle onto the couch and immediately arranged the cushions behind her back.

“Are you comfortable?” she asked, adjusting another cushion beneath Lydia's arm.

“A little.”

“Do you need water? Something to eat? Should I call your doctor?”

“Rachael, please. Just sit with me.”

The desperation in her voice made Rachael pause. She lowered herself onto the couch beside her, studying her face with growing unease.

“What happened at the hospital?” she finally asked.

Lydia looked down at her hands. For a moment, she couldn't find the words. She had rehearsed the explanation several times during the journey, but now that she was finally somewhere safe, the memories came rushing back with such force that her throat tightened.

“Williams lied to me,” she began quietly.

Rachael frowned. “What do you mean?”

“The baby isn't mine.”

Her friend's expression froze.

Lydia drew a shaky breath and continued. “The insemination wasn't done with my eggs. They used Clara's fertilized egg and Williams's sperm. I carried their child for nine months, Rachael. Nine whole months, and nobody thought I deserved to know the truth.”

Rachael slowly straightened.

“Wait. What?”

Lydia nodded, pressing her lips together as tears gathered in her eyes. “I was only a surrogate. They used my body to give Clara a child.”

For several seconds, Rachael said nothing. She looked at Lydia as though she expected her to take the words back, to laugh and admit that there had been some terrible misunderstanding.

But Lydia simply lowered her head.

“Oh, my God.”

Rachael covered her mouth, her eyes widening with disbelief. “Are you telling me that Williams deliberately deceived you into carrying another woman's child?”

“He told me it was the artificial insemination procedure I had been begging him for.” Lydia's voice trembled as she wiped her cheek. “I was so happy that night. I remember hugging him and thanking him. I thought he had finally listened to me.”

“Oh my!”

Rachael sprang to her feet, unable to contain herself. Her hands curled into fists as she began pacing in front of the couch.

“I will kill that bastard! I swear to God, Lydia, I will make sure that man pays for this. And Clara? That shameless woman will not get away with it!”

“Rachael…”

“No, don't tell me to calm down!” She spun around, her eyes blazing. “Do you know what they've done to you? They deceived you into undergoing a medical procedure without your consent. They made you carry a child for another woman, and they had the audacity to tell you that you should be grateful?”

Lydia looked away, unable to withstand the anger on her friend's face. Somehow, seeing someone else react so strongly to her suffering made the humiliation feel even heavier.

“I watched you through that pregnancy,” Rachael continued, her voice breaking. “I remember how excited you were when you first heard the baby's heartbeat. You sent me pictures of every scan. You called me in the middle of the night because you thought the baby had kicked. You were so happy, Lydia.”

She pressed a hand against her chest, struggling to contain the emotions rising inside her.

“How could they do this to you?”

Lydia's fingers tightened around the edge of the cushion.

“I don't know.”

“I'm going to the police.” Rachael reached for her phone on the centre table. “I'll have them arrested. Both of them. And if Williams thinks his money can protect him, I'll show him—”

“Don't.”

Lydia's quiet interruption stopped her.

Rachael turned sharply. “What?”

“Don't do anything yet.” Lydia swallowed, shifting slightly as a wave of pain travelled through her lower abdomen. “We don't have enough evidence to prove what happened.”

“What evidence do you need? The man practically confessed to you!”

“To me, Rachael. Not to the police.” Lydia shook her head. “And you know how powerful the Osborne family is. The hospital is funded by the Osborne Group. Do you honestly think the management will cooperate if we start asking questions? They could destroy whatever records we need before we even know where to look.”

Rachael's anger faltered, replaced by a troubled expression.

“They wouldn't dare.”

“They would.” Lydia looked directly at her. “Williams has already thought about this. I'm sure of it. He knows exactly what he's doing.”

She remembered the way he had spoken about Clara's suffering, how he had justified every lie and defended the arrangement as though it were some noble sacrifice. He had never once considered what the deception had done to her.

And if he could go that far, she couldn't afford to underestimate him.

“Then what are you going to do?” Rachael asked, slowly returning to her seat.

“I'm filing for divorce.”