A Mother’s Plea

Lucy stared at Marcus for a long moment, unsure whether to believe him. His explanation made some sense, yet it didn’t fully add up. Why would Clara turn to him of all people after so many years? They were ex-lovers who had ended things badly. And the way Marcus had treated Clara earlier didn’t feel like a purely transactional arrangement.

“So why didn’t you tell me any of this?” she asked. “Stella and Jaycee knew. Why was I kept in the dark?”

“It was supposed to be a surprise,” Marcus replied. “You were meant to be happy when you saw the baby. Instead, you ruined the mood.”

The way they had arrived earlier hardly screamed “surprise,” but Lucy kept that thought to herself.

“How long have you two been in touch?” she asked instead.

“About ten months ago. We only met to discuss the pregnancy.” He pulled her into a hug and kissed her temple. “Please believe me. I was merely a sperm donor. I did it all for you. I hate seeing my mother belittle you because you can’t have a baby.”

Even though she suspected he was trying to placate her, his words still struck deep. It was all her fault. If she had gotten pregnant earlier, none of this would have happened.

After Marcus released her and wiped her tears, she asked quietly, “Why is she living here? And why are you sharing a room with her?”

“You don’t want me to take a baby away from her mother, do you?” he replied flatly. “She’s only a few months old and still needs her. After a year, Clara will leave, and the baby will be yours — just like Jaycee.”

Lucy nodded, her hand instinctively moving to her still-flat stomach. She couldn’t imagine being separated from her own child.

“As for the room… it’s Clara’s first time being a mother. She needs extra help, especially at night when the baby wakes up crying.”

“Why can’t Stella help her? She’s experienced.”

“Mom won’t be staying here full-time. And I’m the father — I need to take responsibility.”

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Lucy sat in her new room — one of the guest bedrooms. It was decent, but nowhere near as spacious or beautiful as the master suite she had shared with Marcus for ten years. His explanation kept replaying in her mind.

She had no real reason to doubt him, he had never lied to her before. Yet a nagging gut feeling told her something about the situation still wasn’t right.

A sharp knock on the door pulled her from her thoughts.

“Go and make baby formula for the child,” Stella ordered the moment Lucy opened the door.

“What?”

“Are you deaf? Make yourself useful and hurry up. The baby is crying.”

 “But I don’t… I don’t know how to make it,” Lucy stammered. “Why can’t Clara just breastfeed her?”

Stella’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Did you just question me?”

“No, I was just—”

“Marcus already explained how the baby came to be,” Stella interrupted. “If you weren’t barren, Clara wouldn’t even be here. I suggest you pour all your energy into caring for this child. Maybe then the heavens will finally bless you with one of your own.” With that, Stella turned and walked away.

Barren. That word had haunted Lucy for years. She couldn’t wait to see the look on Stella’s face when she finally revealed her pregnancy. She would wait for the right moment.

Lucy headed downstairs to prepare the formula. In just a few hours, her once-familiar kitchen had been transformed. New baby plates, utensils, and bottles filled the counters. A cupboard had been cleared and restocked with various brands of baby milk and supplies.

Her eyes stung. These were all things she had dreamed of preparing for her own baby. Pushing down the ache, she pulled out her phone, searched for tutorials, and watched several videos until she felt confident enough to try.

After carefully preparing the bottle, she carried it upstairs and knocked on the door of the master bedroom.

“Come in,” Clara called softly.

Lucy pushed the door open and froze.

In just a short time she had been gone, the room had undergone a shocking transformation. It looked nothing like the space she had lovingly decorated. Where their wedding photo had once hung, a large new frame now dominated the wall — a picture of Clara, Jaycee, Marcus, and the baby. They looked radiantly happy, the perfect family of four.

Lucy stood transfixed, staring at the image. The last family photo they had taken together was when Jaycee was five. In recent years, he had refused to take pictures with her, claiming her face was too ugly and wrinkly.

“We took that photo on the third day after my daughter was born,” Clara said gently.

Lucy turned. Clara was smiling at the picture with genuine affection, though her eyes glistened with tears. She quickly wiped them away.

“I know you think I’m trying to take over your family, but I swear that’s not the case.”

Lucy scoffed. “Then what exactly are you doing in my house?”

Clara stepped forward and gently took the baby formula from her hands. “The day we took that picture was the happiest day of my life,” she whispered. “I’ve always wanted a big, happy family, but because of my condition… I couldn’t.”

Lucy studied the woman in front of her, unsure whether this vulnerability was real or an act.

“Just give me one year to be with my baby,” Clara continued, her voice breaking. “After that, I’ll disappear from your lives. I promise. I know we didn’t end on good terms, but please… let me cherish these moments. I’ve waited so long for this.”

A tear slipped down Lucy’s cheek. She could relate to that deep yearning, after all, she had wanted a child for ten long years.

She looked at Clara’s tear-streaked face and gave a small nod before quietly leaving the room.

She had only taken a few steps when a piercing wail from the baby and Clara’s frantic scream echoed behind her.

“Marcus, help!!!”