Seth Allen stared at the wide-open doors of Benson IVF clinic, in apprehension and worry. It had been six solid months since he last stepped within the wide hospital walls. His knuckles turned white from gripping the steering wheel too tight. It wasn't that he was ashamed to go in. Heck, he had walked in proudly, happy about the thought of having a bouncing, healthy child. And for the first month, he had waited earnestly for a call from the clinic, telling him they had found a surrogate for him. At least that would've put his mother at rest. But he had gotten nothing. Neither a call nor a text. In the weeks that followed, he slowly forgot. It wasn't his fault, he had a company to run. Thousands of employees at Allen and Sons depended on him for their daily bread. He had been thoroughly busy, setting up a new branch in New Zealand. Signing a partnership contract that would help put his company on the front lines, doing charity, and getting laid in between. He had forgotten all about
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