Chapter 5

Louisa's point of view

I wasn't a very superstitious or religious person, but hallelujah.

Some sort of god had intervened for me, and somehow I got the job.

The entire process went by in a blur, and I didn't know exactly what happened, but it wasn't surrogacy — not the way I'd pictured it. Surrogacy, I thought, involved an already fertilized egg growing in your womb, or something along those lines. I'm not a medical practitioner.

But this wasn't that.

This was my actual eggs, fertilized by that man's sperm. The child would have my DNA, and the man would be the father of my first child.

Well — the first child I know personally, if we don't count the eggs I've sold previously.

And I still didn't even know the man's name.

I had been in this hospital for over eighteen hours, the longest I'd left my mom since she got sick, waiting for the results to see if the procedure was successful.

"If you'll be carrying my child, there'll be rules." The father of my child announced it as he stalked to my side.

He was the man that bore the brunt of the lack of hot water when I went to shower this morning.

I don't usually go about crashing into cars or cursing people out, but I was stressed, agitated, and hungry — not exactly a good combination.

"Definitely." I straightened up.

Was I supposed to apologize for the morning? He wasn't bringing it up, so why should I?

"Firstly, no name-calling. I'll let your previous remarks slide since you might be carrying my child, but no more. We aren't friends, and you'll respect that." Okay, I'm not apologizing anymore.

"Understood." My outburst might have been unwarranted, but I wasn't wrong. He was indeed a pompous blowhard.

"You'll put this child first, even above your own life." Who would tell this dummy that if I died, the child died with me. The child better get my brain genes, at least.

"Sure," I said anyway.

"This ordeal is to remain private. No one needs to hear of it. You carry and birth this child quietly, then leave quietly." Now, this thing was starting to look shady. Why did he need someone to secretly carry his child?

I'm not a huge fan of kids, but handing over my first child — selling my first child — felt like a bad-mother move all the same.

"After you have this child, you'll move away and sign documents handing over the child to me, along with a restraining order to stay away."

"Extreme, a bit? It's my child too, you know. My eggs.” I just felt compelled to say that, I couldn't raise a child right now.

I was barely surviving, how was I to take care of another human being? Yeah, he can have the child.

He smirked. "No. Five million dollars is yours. The child is mine. A trade."

"That's a human life."

He shrugged. "No problem," I agreed. It's not like I want the child anyway.

"No drinking, smoking, and definitely no sleeping with other men."

“And you'd be with no other women?” That's an unreasonable ask but he looks entertaining when irritated and worked up.

His lips squeezed to the side, slightly raised as he peered down at me. “Who I'm with us none of your business.”

“Neither is who I am with.”

“You're carrying my child!”

“Having sex while pregnant doesn't affect the pregnancy.”

“I'm not paying you five million to argue with me. You accept my rules or get lost!” This fucker! It probably isn't in my best option to keep taunting the person who is paying me.

I scoffed but nodded.

"Amazing, we have a deal.” He straighten his back. “And you're moving into my house by tomorrow." He got up to leave.

"Wait, what?" His expression read confusion at my confusion. "Why am I moving in?"

"You don't think I'll let you stay in some unknown place, risk my child's life, or worse — run off with the pregnancy and come back holding the child as leverage over me."

Fuck him.

"How very generous of you."

"I'll send you the details." Of course he already had my contact.

"You don't even know if I'm pregnant already," I mumbled.

"I'd suggest hoping, for your own sake, that you are."

I definitely hated him.

"Is that all?"

He nodded. "I believe so."

"May I leave? Go pack my bags and stuff, just in case?"

He sighed. "Yeah, yeah, go." He waved me off.

Asshole.

*****

My sister sat on the stool by Mother's bed, engrossed in her phone.

We hadn't spoken since I'd slapped her, and she was visibly still upset.

Michelle was sensitive, delicate. She was only three when Dad left, and Mom focused more on her, trying to make sure she had a great childhood. Somewhere along the line, she got spoiled rotten. Everything came easy to her, and now she wasn't used to this. Unease.

"Michelle." She ignored me and kept typing on her phone.

"Michelle, I'm sorry I raised my hand at you, okay? You crossed the line, and I was really upset." One thing she'd also never outgrown was giving the silent treatment when things didn't go her way. Since she was six, and now she was twenty.

"I'll fix everything. Pay for Mom's surgery this week, pay the rent, and I'll even get you that new wig you've been eyeing." I chuckled.

"How? Found someone else to prostitute yourself to?" Technically, she wasn't wrong.

"I do my best for you, Michelle. I just wish you'd appreciate it more." She scoffed.

I pushed a thin strand of hair off Mom's face. I'll pay for the surgery, get another house, and we'll be like we were before.

Happy.

We could even finally travel to Egypt.

She'll be better by the time I have my child and get back from his house.

Speaking of houses.

"I'm moving out."