[POV Lila]
The night before the embryo implantation, I sat curled on my secondhand couch, wrapped in the blanket my mother had knitted years ago.
The yarn was fraying at the edges, soft from a decade of use, and it smelled faintly of the lavender detergent she always used. I pulled it tighter around my shoulders, trying to find comfort in something familiar.
My apartment felt too small. The walls pressed in with the weight of tomorrow. In twelve hours, I'd be at the clinic.
In thirteen hours, I'd be pregnant with Stefan's child.
The hormone injections had made me emotional, nauseous, bloated in ways I hadn't expected. But it was the psychological weight that was crushing me.
I kept replaying that kiss—his hands on my shoulders, gently but firmly pushing me away, the low tremor in his voice when he said we're not talking about this ever. And yet, I am the one who will have to bear his child.
It's strange to think about this now, when everything has already been decided, but will I be able to go through this? Will I be able to give up the child I carried under my heart for nine months?
Will I be able to come to terms with the idea of this child being raised by the man I love with another woman? A woman who isn't even involved in the process...
Tomorrow I would cross a line I couldn't uncross, and I'd have to do it while pretending my heart didn't accelerate every time he said my name.
While pretending this was just business, just money, just a transaction between two people who needed different things.
I pressed my palms against my eyes until I saw stars, trying to quiet the chaos in my head.
The doorbell rang at 10 PM, jarring in the silence.
I froze, heart hammering. No one visited me here. Harper always texted first, and my mother lived three states away. Debt collectors didn't make house calls this late.
Slowly, I crossed to the door and looked through the peephole.
Eleanor Hale stood in the hallway, immaculate in a cream coat despite the late hour, her dark hair perfectly styled, her posture rigid. She looked like she'd rather be anywhere else in the world.
I opened the door, too stunned to speak.
"May I come in?" Eleanor's voice was controlled, but tension ran beneath it like a current.
"Of course. Yes. Come in."
I led her to the kitchen, my hands shaking as I filled the kettle—something to do, something to fill the suffocating silence. Eleanor didn't sit. Instead, she surveyed my cramped apartment with a clinical assessment.
The mismatched furniture I'd collected from thrift stores and sidewalk giveaways. The medical textbooks stacked on every surface. The water stain on the ceiling I'd been asking my landlord to fix for six months.
The poverty Eleanor had never known.
"Can I get you some tea?" My voice came out higher than normal. "I have chamomile, or…"
"I'm not here for tea, Lila."
I set down the kettle, turning to face her. "Then why are you here?"
Eleanor's gaze was steady, appraising. Whatever she saw in my face seemed to satisfy her, because her expression shifted into something harder. More deliberate.
"This needs to stay between us." Her tone was pure business now, the voice that commanded boardrooms and closed deals. "What I'm about to say cannot leave this room. Do you understand?"
"I... yes. I understand."
She pulled an envelope from her designer bag and slid it across my scratched kitchen table. The envelope was thick. Heavy.
I opened it with trembling fingers.
Cash. More cash than I'd ever seen in my life. Stacks of bills, crisp and organized. Double the surrogacy fee, maybe triple.
"I want you to back out tomorrow," Eleanor said, her voice calm as if she were discussing quarterly projections. "Tell Stefan you changed your mind. Tell him you can't do it. And then stop speaking to him altogether."
I stared at the money, then at her. "You want me to lie to him?"
"I want you to disappear from this arrangement."
Eleanor's wedding ring caught the light as she pushed the envelope closer to me.
"Stefan will accept it eventually. He'll be disappointed, but he'll move on. Men always do. But you must never mention this payment. It has to look like your choice entirely."
My throat constricted. "Why? Why would you…"
"My reasons are my own." Eleanor's eyes were cold, unreadable. "You don't need to understand them. You just need to do what I'm asking."
"But the baby— Stefan wants this so badly. He's been dreaming about…"
"What Stefan wants is not your concern, girl." Her voice sharpened. "I know about your debts, Lila. Eighty-seven thousand dollars, isn't it? Plus interest. Plus the medical school applications you can't afford to submit. Plus the rent increase your landlord just announced."
I felt the blood drain from my face. "How do you know all that?"
"I make it my business to know things." Eleanor smiled, but there was no warmth in it. "This solves everything. Your debts, your tuition, your future—all of it handled. Without the complications of carrying my husband's child for nine months."
The word complications hung in the air between us.
I wondered what she knew. What she suspected.
"This is more than three times the surrogacy fee," I said, staring at the envelope. "Why would you pay so much just to…"
"Because I want this done cleanly." Eleanor adjusted her coat, preparing to leave. "No loose ends. No lingering connections. You take the money, you disappear from our lives, and everyone moves on."
"And if I don't?"
Eleanor paused, her hand on the back of the kitchen chair. "Excuse me?"
"What if I don't take the money? What if I go through with the implantation tomorrow like we planned?"
For a moment, something flickered in Eleanor's expression—surprise, maybe, that I would dare to push back. Then it was gone, replaced by that cold, calculating mask.
"Then you would be making a very foolish decision. I've built my career on understanding people's weaknesses, Lila."
She stepped closer, her voice dropping.
“On knowing exactly where to apply pressure to get what I want. If you think your student debt is crushing now, imagine what happens when I decide to make your life difficult."
"Is that a threat?"
"It's a reality check." Eleanor moved toward the door, pausing without turning back. "Tomorrow morning. End it. Make it believable. Make it yours."
Her voice dropped even lower, deadly quiet.
"Or if you dare proceed with this, I'll make you pay a hundred times the price of that student debt you think is so crushing."
The door closed behind her with a soft click.
I stood frozen in my kitchen, staring at the envelope on the table. All that money. Enough to erase my debts, fund my education, change my entire life.
All I had to do was lie to Stefan. Break my promise. Disappear.
Freedom and betrayal in equal measure.
I thought about Stefan's face at the clinic, the way he'd held my hand during the ultrasound, the gentle reassurance in his voice.
You're okay. I'm right here.
I thought about Eleanor's cold eyes, her calculated smile, the threat wrapped in silk. I thought about Harper, who still didn't know, who would hate me either way.
Tomorrow I had to choose between my financial salvation and the man whose child I'd promised to carry.
I sank into a kitchen chair, pulled the envelope toward me, and started to count.