Sophia
Ipull into Julian’s driveway. Rather than knock on the door, I decide to walk around the back. It’s been a week since I was here, and I want to see what Simon’s done with the greenhouse.
Then I overhear Damien.
“. . . Lizbeth made an agreement with you, and she needs to honor it. If she doesn’t, she’ll find out what we’re made of.”
Alarm dashes down my spine. I’ve never heard Damien sound like this. Icily furious. Cold. Ruthless.
Lizbeth is his brother’s surrogate. I know this because it was her birthday last week, and Damien sent her flowers. “It’s the least I can do,” he’d said. “She’s voluntarily choosing to be pregnant for nine months so Cristiano and Magnus can have a baby. The woman’s a saint.”
She was a saint, and now she’s the enemy.
“Our detectives will dig through her life. We will talk to everyone from her past. If she continues down this path, we will destroy her.”
I tiptoe away, shocked tears rolling down my cheeks and realization dawning in my heart.
I get it now.
This is what I’d been afraid of.
My fear hadn’t been about the past, after all. It wasn’t about getting fired. Ten years ago, that might have bothered me, but time healed that wound.
No, I’m afraid about the future. If I were to get pregnant with Damien’s child, and we split up, this is how he would react. He will threaten me the way he’s threatening his brother’s surrogate. He can take my child away, the way Denise threatened to take Ben and me away. It will break my heart.
I even remember thinking that. After my first appointment with Dr. Hernandez, Ben asked me if there was anyone in my life, and I said no. I thought then that I could never have a baby with Damien. He was too wealthy, I told myself. In a custody dispute, he’d be able to out-lawyer me. As much as I’d like to pretend otherwise, the legal system favors the rich. It always has.
How could I let myself forget? Good sex is its own kind of amnesia, but now, hearing Damien ruthlessly promise to destroy Lizbeth, it all comes rushing back.
Our detectives will dig through her life. We will talk to everyone from her past.
They won’t have to dig too much in my case. All they’d have to do is point out that I was in a threesome. If there’s a dispute between us, Damien’s lawyers can paint me as a slut because that’s how society works. Women are shamed, and guys walk away, untouched by scandal.
I can’t be in a poly relationship and have a baby. The power imbalance between us is too great, and I can’t take the risk. I made myself a promise that I would never put my child in a situation where someone could take her away from me.
I’m going to keep that promise.
I want a child. I really do. My heart yearns for a baby. And if that’s going to happen, I need to end things with Damien and Julian.
I cry myself to sleep.All night my dreams are fragmented and filled with a sense of dread. I wake up feeling sick to my stomach, and when I pee on the wand, it shows that my hormone levels are elevated.
I’m ovulating.
I can wait a few months. But how long will it take my heart to recover? Years. Decades. And I don’t have that much time.
My heart is broken, but I have to be practical.
I make myself call the fertility clinic. “I know this is last minute, but according to my tracker, I’m ovulating,” I tell Laura at the front desk. I grope in my purse for a coin and toss it in the air. Heads, it’s Donor Sperm #181. Tails, Mr. 155. 155 wins. “I’ve picked a donor from the registry. Is there any way to rush this thing?”
Laura probably thinks I’m crazy. Who orders vials of sperm for next-day delivery? This isn’t Amazon.
“Which registry?” she asks.
I give her the details, and she looks them up. “Yes, that should be possible.”
“It is?”
“They’re in Pittsburgh. They can FedEx it, and it’ll be here tomorrow morning.”