The Mistress Surrogate

I said a word of prayer as I laid a white rose on the now-covered grave. I was hurt, but not as much as the people around me who had a long-term bond with the deceased. Unlike them, I had only known her for a month. 

The atmosphere was emotionally draining with all the wailing and tears, and amidst all this turbulence, someone important in this woman's life was missing... Her husband.

Among everybody closest to her, he was the one whom I believe didn't take the news well; the woman was young... so young.

She had the brightest smile, a smile that could light up the darkest room. I was warmly received by her in our first meeting; we talked and discussed the idea of surrogacy, which I agreed upon, considering my financial status.

I wasn't rich like they were, and I wasn't intrigued by the idea either at first, but I needed the money to feed my ailing mother, the only family I had left.

After a while of waiting and paying respect to her, I followed the others who were quick to recognize me as the surrogate carrying her child to the small house used to welcome the guests.

I sat at a corner waiting for my turn to greet the woman in her mid-fifties, who was a clear description of her daughter without the wrinkles; her eyes were filled with tears as the others came in to offer their condolences.

As I sat there waiting for my turn, I soon lost track of time and dozed off, having no one to talk to and being tired of checking out the house dedicated to Elizabeth, which had all her pictures from toddler to adulthood; she was beautiful all through.

I was still in my sleep when a soft voice oozed through my ear. "Ms. Priscilla..." I heard again before I opened my eyes to the woman I was waiting to meet; just like her daughter, she smiled, even though hers might not have come from within.

"My daughter said a lot about you.... Can we talk? It's about the baby you are currently carrying..." She managed to smile again.

"Of course." I stood up to face her.

She led me to a corner a little far from the scene; she tried to suppress some kind of feeling before she spoke. Her voice sounded weaker and shakier, like she was about to cry. She touched my belly as if trying to connect with the fetus in me.

"How about moving in with us? I want to be able to watch over my daughter's child and see that you have a safe delivery... I know you are just at the earliest stage, but still... She clenched her fist with her might before biting her lips; a small arch was made on her forehead. "Please... I will pay extra compared to what you've been given," she begged.

Having a rich old woman beg for her late daughter's child's safety is something you don't see every day.

I wanted to accept the offer, but she kept increasing the price she wanted to give me, which was different from the original amount I was supposed to receive. I felt guilty because she was doing this to protect something her daughter wanted.

"I'll do it," I said after so much pleading from her, "...but my mother."

"I heard about her; I promise to make sure she is safe and secure and that no harm comes to her. In fact, I will personally employ someone to cater to her needs while you are with us." 

"US"—she never said it would be a "us"...

Her attention was slowly deviating to a man with a loose shirt and a tie loosely wrapped around his neck; his trousers were really dirty on the knees, it was like he had been kneeling earlier, and his walking steps were haggard.

Elizabeth's mother left me to meet him, and I followed her at her back. His appearance had caught the attention of the visitors.

"Damon, where have you been? And why are you...?" She sniffed him and covered her nose. "Damon, you reek of alcohol. Have you been drinking?" She asked before closing her nose again.

"What do you think?" He staggered, almost losing his balance. "You are the witch that didn't let her rest, and yet you call yourself my mother." He poked his index finger on her chest. "Are you glad now?" He asked before pushing her to the side, making her fall to the ground; he didn't bother to wait and pick her up... he just left.

I ran to her side, but someone got to her first; she wiped the tears from her eyes. I never knew she was his mother, and so I made an assumption, but it was rude of him to have treated his mother that way, irrespective of what she had done.

Having no host, the houseguests began to leave rapidly as they had come, and just like that, life continues with no stopping.

A week after my initial meeting with the child's father and mother, she called me up again after I thought she had forgotten; she sent someone to pick me up and left a nanny for my mom, as she had promised.

We drove to a large mansion with very tight security; the building could be mistaken for a hotel. I watched in awe as we drove past the garden, which was on the side, before we stopped at the house itself. There was someone waiting to open the door for me.

I thanked the person as I got out of the car.

I was led in to see a more grand interior of the house; Damon's mother was standing at the front waiting to welcome me.

"Welcome, dear." She hugged me and kissed my cheeks. She turned to a lady beside her. "Go get Damon; tell him there is someone I'd like for him to meet." "Miss Priscilla, why don't you have a seat and feel comfortable...?"

I was really touched by her kindness and was hopeful for what was to come.

"What could be so important that my work had to be disturbed?" Priscilla, a cold figure, said with a drag, "Mydisturbed?" Her eyes fought so hard to see who it was. He slowly came down the stairs, away from the light.

"Come here, my son..." Damon's mother said; he shoved her arm away. Here, away. Saway. Here, away. He smiled at me. "Damon, this is Priscilla; she is carrying your child."