[POV Lila]
Harper and I were sprawled on the living room couch, two episodes deep into our reality TV binge. Some show about wealthy housewives throwing drinks at each other—Harper's comfort viewing, not mine.
But I couldn't focus on the drama unfolding on screen. Not when every nerve in my body was attuned to the house around me.
Stefan was home. Somewhere upstairs in his office. I'd heard his footsteps earlier, the creak of his chair, the muffled sound of a phone call. Every noise from above made my heart skip.
It had been a week since the kiss. A week of replaying that moment outside my apartment door.
A week of cringing into my pillow every night, remembering how he'd gently pushed me away, how he'd said ‘we're not talking about this, ever’ with that low, controlled voice.
A week of pretending everything was normal while my insides twisted with humiliation.
"Oh my God, did you see her face?" Harper cackled at the TV, completely oblivious to my internal crisis. "She's going to kill someone with those acrylic nails."
"Totally," I managed, not even sure what I was agreeing to.
Footsteps on the stairs.
I froze, my fingers tightening around my wine glass.
Stefan appeared in the living room doorway, sleeves rolled up from working, that tired but handsome look that always made my stomach flip. He didn't glance at me—deliberate, I was sure.
"Harper, did your mother say when she'd be home? She was supposed to be here by seven."
Harper barely looked up from her phone, scrolling through Instagram while the TV played. "She texted an hour ago. Client dinner came up. The usual."
His jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. "She was supposed to be here tonight. We were going to discuss the surrogacy arrangement with you."
This got Harper's attention. She sat up slightly, pausing the TV.
"Oh right, you guys finally picked someone?"
I forced myself to stare at the frozen screen, my heart pounding so loud I was sure they could both hear it.
Stefan hesitated. "We did, yes. But your mother wanted to announce it together…"
"Of course she did." Harper shrugged, already losing interest. "So who is it? Some woman desperate for cash?"
"Harper." Stefan's voice carried a gentle warning.
"What? That's why people do it, right? The money?"
Harper stretched, completely casual about the whole thing.
"I mean, I get it. Pregnancy sucks, but if someone offered me ninety grand to be uncomfortable for nine months, I'd consider it too. Who doesn't love money?"
I wanted to disappear into the couch cushions.
Stefan's expression softened slightly at her pragmatism. "It's more complicated than that. Some people genuinely want to help families."
"Sure, but the money doesn't hurt." Harper grinned, swinging her legs off the couch. "I'm getting wine. This conversation needs alcohol."
She bounced to the kitchen, leaving me alone with Stefan for the first time since that night.
The moment she was gone, I leaned forward and whispered urgently, "Mr. Hale…"
"Stefan," he corrected firmly, voice low. "Call me Stefan now. After the contract, the arrangement—the formality seems unnecessary."
"Stefan," I tried, the name feeling strange and intimate on my tongue. Like crossing another line I shouldn't cross.
He stayed in the doorway, keeping distance between us. Professional. Appropriate. Everything I hadn't been a week ago.
Harper returned with a bottle of red wine and three glasses, pouring generously despite my weak protest.
"I have to drive later…"
"One glass won't kill you. Drink." She pushed the wine into my hands, settling back onto the couch. "So, mystery surrogate. Young or old?"
Stefan moved into the room, taking a seat in the armchair across from us. Still not looking at me directly. "Young."
"Makes sense. Less risky than someone Mom's age." Harper sipped her wine, unbothered by the conversation's weight. "Is she pretty?"
Stefan shifted uncomfortably. "That's not relevant."
"I'm just curious what kind of person does this. Like, what's her deal? Is she some saint who just wants to help people, or is she doing it for the money? Does she have kids already? Is she…"
Harper's phone rang, cutting off her interrogation. She glanced at the screen and squealed, jumping up from the couch.
"Oh my God, perfect timing! It's Jake. Be right back!" She raced upstairs, already answering with a breathless "Hey, babe!"
The moment her door clicked shut, I leaned forward. "Please don't tell her tonight. Not without Mrs. Hale here, and especially not when she doesn't even know it's me."
Stefan finally looked at me, his expression unreadable. "Lila, she needs to know…"
"I know." My voice cracked despite my best efforts to stay calm. "But I need to be the one to tell her. When I figure out how to explain why I went behind her back. She's my only real friend, Stefan. The only person who's been there for me through everything. If I lose her because of this..."
"You won't lose her."
"You don't know that."
I set down my wine glass, hands shaking.
"She just sat here talking about surrogates like they're desperate strangers doing it for money. What's she going to think when she finds out it's me? That I've been lying to her face? That every time I've been here, I've been calculating how to insert myself into her family?"
Stefan was quiet for a moment. Then: "You need the money for medical school. Harper understands that—she just said so herself."
"Does she? Or will she think I'm using her? Using you?" I met his eyes, unable to look away. "We both know this is more complicated than just money."
The words hung between us, heavy with everything we weren't saying.
The kiss. The feelings I couldn't bury no matter how hard I tried. The way he'd walked away without looking back.
Stefan's expression closed off, shuttering whatever had flickered there. "It can't be complicated, Lila. It has to be simple. A business arrangement. That's all."
"I know."
"Do you?"
Before I could answer, Harper's footsteps thundered back down the stairs. She burst into the living room, phone still in hand, practically glowing.
"Jake's taking me to that new rooftop bar this weekend! The one with the waiting list? He knows someone who knows someone." She flopped back onto the couch beside me, grinning. "God, I love having a boyfriend with connections."
Stefan stood, smoothing his shirt. "I should get back to work. You girls enjoy your evening."
"Night, Stefan!" Harper called, already pulling up photos of the bar on her phone.
He paused in the doorway, and for just a second, his eyes met mine. A warning. A reminder.
Simple. It has to be simple.
Then he was gone, footsteps retreating upstairs.
"You're weird tonight," Harper said suddenly, studying me with narrowed eyes. "Super quiet. You've barely said anything."
"Just stressed about school," I lied, reaching for my wine.
"You're always stressed. You need to relax more." She clinked her glass against mine. "Maybe you should be the one having a baby—apparently it pays better than med school."
She laughed at her own joke, completely unaware of how her words landed like punches to my chest.
I forced a smile and took a long drink of wine, swallowing down the truth along with it.