Chapter 4 – The Beginning of Something Unseen

Ava’s POV

This morning, I walked down the corridor dala-dala ang plastik na laman ay pandesal na paborito ni Mama.

I wasn’t here as a nurse today. I was here as a daughter— one who had already made a choice she could never take back.

When I pushed open the door to Mama’s room, she was awake, her thin frame propped up by pillows. The morning sunlight caught the silver strands in her hair, making her look more fragile than ever.

“Ava,” she said softly, her face lighting up. “Ang aga mo anak.”

I smiled and sat beside her bed. “I missed you.”

“Hmm.” She studied me for a moment. “Sinasabi mo lang ‘yan kapag may bumabagabag sayo.”

I forced a laugh. “Hindi ba pwedeng miss ko lang ang Mama ko?”

“Syempre naman.” Her eyes softened, though her voice trembled with exhaustion. “You look tired, anak. Are you still working double shifts?”

“Hindi ngayon,” I lied, tucking the blanket closer to her chest. “Just… helping out with something else.”

“Something else?” she echoed, curious.

I hesitated. How could I tell her? How could I look her in the eyes and say, ‘Ma! magdadala po ako nganak para sa pera, galing diba? Napaka-easy money’?

So I smiled instead, that same practiced smile I’d worn for years. “Just paperwork, Ma. Don’t worry about it.”

She nodded slowly, satisfied with the half-truth. “You’re just like your father,” she murmured, her gaze distant. “Always taking care of others before yourself.”

Her words stung in ways I couldn’t explain.

Before I left, I kissed her forehead. “Bibisita ulit ako sa susunod.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

As I stepped outside, the weight of my secret pressed against my chest. Kapag malaman kaya ni Mama ang totoong pinagkakaabalahan ko, would she look at me the same.

The next day, I stood once again in front of the Vale Fertility Foundation. The mirrored glass reflected a woman I barely recognized— tired, anxious, pretending to be brave.

Inside, the receptionist guided me to the medical wing. My heart pounded faster with every step.

“This way, Ms. Monteverde,” a nurse said kindly.

I was ushered into a pristine white room filled with soft beeping machines and monitors. The lights were gentle, the air faintly scented with lavender, but none of it could calm the storm brewing inside me.

Dr. Celeste Hartman entered soon after, clipboard in hand. Her voice was calm, professional. “Ava. Kamusta? How are you feeling?”

“Terrified,” I admitted honestly.

She gave a faint, sympathetic smile. “That’s normal. We’re going to begin the preliminary IVF procedures today. You’ll be under mild sedation, but I’ll be here the whole time.”

“Will… he be here?” The question slipped out before I could stop it.

Celeste hesitated. “Mr. Lancaster prefers to remain uninvolved until necessary. He trusts the process.”

I nodded quickly, pretending that didn’t sting. “Ah… Oo nga.”

She set the clipboard aside and guided me to the reclined examination chair. The cold metal beneath the paper sheet sent a shiver through me. Nurses moved quietly, efficient and silent, as they prepared the equipment.

“Deep breaths,” Celeste said gently. “It’ll only take a few minutes.”

Ipinikit ko ang aking mata. The whir of machines filled the silence. Then came the sting of a needle, the soft pressure of something foreign.

At first, it was just uncomfortable. Then it hurt.

I gapped as a sharp, twisting pain bloomed in my lower abdomen, spreading like fire. I gripped the edges of the chair, teeth sinking into my lip to keep from crying out.

Celeste’s voice was steady. “Almost done. You’re doing great.”

But my throat burned. My chest felt tight. Every sound around me blurred until all I could hear was the rush of my own blood in my ears.

I want to run away.

When it was finally over, I felt empty.

Celeste placed a comforting hand on my arm. “Rest for a bit. You did well.”

All I did was said nothing.

Later, as I lay in the recovery room, I heard two nurses chatting just outside the curtain.

“Nakita mo ba siya? Siya daw ang napiling surrogate.”

“Talaga? Grabe, ang swerte! Imagine carrying Ethan Lancaster’s child! Women would kill for that chance.”

“Yeah, pero naiimagine ko na ang magiging anak nila. Sigurado akong magaganda o pogi ang mabubuo. Nakita ko ang babae kanina. Ay teh! Ang ganda niya, ‘di ko sila masisi kung siya ang napili.”

Classic, nurse gossips.

I pressed my hand to my chest, hoping my heartbeat would calm down.

Swerte?

If only they knew.

Kung naiintindihan lang nila na hindi ito fairy tale, kung hindi ko lang kailangan ang pera, hinding-hindi ko ‘to papasukin.

I remained silent until Celeste returned a few minutes later, checking the monitors. “Everything looks stable. Now we wait.”

“How long?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Two weeks,” she replied. “That’s how long it’ll take to know if the implantation is successful.”

Two weeks.

Fourteen days of pretending everything was normal.

Fourteen days before finding out if my life would change forever.

That evening, as I sat alone in the quiet room, I was staring at the busing streets from the window. My mind drifting at any possible thought.

Si Mama.

And future ko.

At ang estrangherong nagbago ng buhay ko— Ethan Lancaster.

Totoo nga’ng hindi sya pupunta. Kahit alam ko, may katiting pagasa pa rin na sana ay magpakita sya. Hindi ko alam kung bakit ko siya hinahanap. Siguro naghahanap lang ako ng assurance. Na hindi ako nagiisa na harapin ang lahat ng ‘to pero alam kong imposible ang hinahangad ko.

Ethan Lancaster is a Big Man, well literally and figuratively.

It would be funny if he indeed started showing concern to a small bug like me.

The same bug that will carry his supposed child.

Iyon and iniisip ko hanggang narinig kong bumukas ang pinto.

Footsteps echoed against the marble floor, slow and deliberate. I didn’t need to look up to know who it was.

“Mr. Lancaster,” Celeste greeted from across the room. “You’re late.”

“I had meetings,” his deep voice replied. “How is she?”

“She’s stable,” Celeste said, glancing at me briefly. “Everything went as planned.”

“Good.”

I wanted to stay quiet and invisible. Yet, I found myself opening my mouth. “I thought you wouldn’t come,” I said softly.

Ethan turned toward me, and for a second, our eyes met.

There it was again— that unreadable look. Calm and distant.

“I had to make sure things were handled properly,” he said. “This is… important.”

Important.

Not you did well, not thank you. Just important.

Not a single speck of concern.

I nodded, forcing a faint smile. “Well, congratulations then. You’re one step closer to your heir.”

For a heartbeat, I thought I saw guilt flicker across his face but it disappeared as quickly as it came.

“Rest, Miss Monteverde,” he said evenly. “You’ve done your part for today.”

And then he turned and walked out, leaving the door to close softly behind him.

I stared after him long after he was gone.

The machines beeped quietly beside me, a steady reminder that life— mine, his, and perhaps another’s was now tied together

As the faint scent of antiseptic filled the air, I closed my eyes and whispered to no one,

“Two weeks…”