"Oh my God," I whispered to my empty apartment. "Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God."
Have I really just applied to carry my best friend's stepfather's baby?
The stepfather I'd been secretly in love with for three years? The one I fantasized about even while I was in a relationship?
I opened the laptop, fingers shaking as I navigated back to the surrogacy portal. There had to be a cancel button. A way to undo this insanity before anyone saw it.
I clicked through my profile, my application, the confirmation page—nothing. No obvious way to withdraw my interest.
I closed the laptop. Opened it again.
Maybe I'd missed something. Maybe there was a settings menu, a help section, a way to contact the agency and explain that I'd made a terrible mistake, that I'd temporarily lost my mind, that…
I closed the laptop again.
Maybe they wouldn't even see it.
The Hales were probably getting dozens of applications from qualified candidates. Eleanor would filter me out immediately. She'd see the name "L.H." with no photo and dismiss it as spam or a scam. Maybe…
The notification sound pierced the silence. I froze, heart hammering against my ribs.
It couldn't be. It hadn't even been thirty minutes.
With trembling hands, I opened the laptop one more time. A message on the surrogacy portal. From Stefan Hale.
“Hello, we noticed your interest in our profile. However, you haven't uploaded a photo, which concerns us about legitimacy.
Would you be available for a brief video verification call? We're serious about finding the right match and prefer to establish authenticity early. I'm available now if you are.”
I read the message three times, my brain refusing to process the words.
He was online. Right now. Asking for a video call.
There was no point denying it now—he'd find out eventually if this moved forward.
And if I ignored the message, he'd just assume I was a scam and move on, and I'd be right back where I started: drowning in debt with no life raft in sight.
With my heart threatening to burst through my chest, I typed back: Available now.
The video call request came within seconds. I barely had time to smooth down my hair and wipe the panic from my expression before I accepted.
Stefan's face filled my screen, professional backdrop of his home office behind him. He looked tired, he always looked tired, but composed, ready to conduct a businesslike interview with a potential surrogate.
The moment he saw me, his composed expression cracked into pure shock. His mouth opened, then closed and opened again.
"Lila?" His voice was barely above a whisper.
"Hi, Mr. Hale."
He stared at me through the screen, processing. Then, sharper: "Does Harper know about this?"
"No," I admitted, forcing myself to maintain eye contact through the camera. "She doesn't."
"So you didn't..." He shook his head, like he was trying to clear it. "This isn't some joke? You and Harper didn't decide to send a fake application to mess with us?"
"I'm completely serious."
My voice sounded steadier than I felt, which was a miracle considering my hands were shaking so badly I had to press them between my thighs to keep them still.
"This isn't a joke, Mr. Hale. Surrogacy is my only option right now. I need the money for medical school, you need a surrogate. Everyone benefits."
Stefan ran a hand through his hair, visibly struggling. The gesture was so familiar, I'd seen him do it a hundred times when he came home exhausted from work, that something twisted in my chest.
"Lila, this is..." He paused, searching for words. "You're Harper's best friend. You're twenty-two years old. You understand why this is incredibly inappropriate? The complications this would cause?"
"I understand the complications."
"Do you?" His voice wasn't angry, just genuinely concerned. "How would Eleanor react? What would happen when Harper finds out? Have you thought about any of that?"
"I've thought about nothing else for three days." I leaned forward slightly, needing him to understand. "I know this is unconventional. I know it's messy. But I'm drowning, Mr. Hale. I have eighty-seven thousand dollars in student debt. My payment is due in two weeks, and I have three hundred dollars in my bank account.”
His expression softened, just slightly. "Lila..."
“I can't ask my mom for help—she already works two jobs.” I kept going quickly. “I'm not asking for charity. This is a business arrangement. You need something, I need something. We can help each other."
"It's not that simple."
"Why not?" I challenged. "I'm healthy. I'm young. I meet all the requirements. The agency already approved my preliminary application. The only difference between me and other surrogate is that you know me."
"That's exactly the problem." Stefan sighed, rubbing his jaw. "I've known you since you were nineteen. You're practically family."
The word stung more than it should have. Family.
Was that how he saw me? Harper's friend, practically a daughter, someone to be protected and dismissed?
"I'm capable of making my own decisions," I said, surprising myself with my firmness. "Just like you're capable of making yours. We both have goals here. You want a child. I need financial stability to pursue my career. It's a business arrangement. Nothing more."
I watched him process this, watched the war playing out across his features.
The practical part that needed a surrogate. The protective part that wanted to shield everyone from mess. The desperate part that just wanted a baby.
I'd seen that last part before, glimpsed it in the way he talked about the future, the way his eyes lit up when he saw families in restaurants.
"This is..." he started, then stopped. Took a breath. "I should immediately tell you no. This is extremely awkward. Complicated. Eleanor would…" He cut himself off.
"But?" I prompted, sensing his hesitation.
Stefan was quiet for a long moment. When he finally spoke, his voice was heavy with uncertainty. "But I'm not going to dismiss this immediately. We should... think about this. Carefully. Both of us."
"You're not saying no…"
"I'm not saying yes either." He met my eyes through the screen. "I need to consider this, Lila. Really consider it. The implications for everyone involved."
"I understand."
"Do you?" He looked at me with something that might have been concern, might have been something else entirely. "Because once we go down this road, there's no going back. For any of us."
"I know."
Another long pause. Then: "I'll be in touch. Soon."
"Okay."
The call ended, and I sat there staring at my reflection in the black screen—wide eyes, flushed cheeks, the face of someone who'd just lit a fuse without knowing how long it was or what it was attached to.
I didn't know whether to feel relieved or terrified. Maybe both.
Maybe this was the beginning of something that would save me, or maybe it was the first step toward destroying everything—my friendship with Harper, my carefully maintained boundaries, my sanity.
But he hadn't said no.
Stefan Hale, with every reason in the world to reject me outright, hadn't said no.