-Hazel-
I woke up at 6:30 AM, my heart already pounding. I stretched towards my phone to check for any calls. None. I stared at the ceiling still feeling exhausted but there was no way I was getting back to sleep. Today was the day.
I lay there staring at the ceiling, one hand pressed against my flat stomach. Still mine. Still just me. But by tonight, that would change.
The thought made me dizzy.
I'd be carrying some stranger's baby. A man I'd never met, never even seen a photo of. And somehow I'd convinced myself this was a good idea.
I had begged Mabel yesterday to watch over Ma for me.
A knock came exactly at seven. Sharp, very professional of them.
I put on jeans and a sweater and opened the door to find a driver in an expensive suit. He barely looked at me. I wonder what he thinks of me.
"Miss Hazel? I'm here to take you to the clinic."
The car was very luxurious with tinted windows so dark I couldn't see out. I sat in the back, arms wrapped around myself. The whole city was still asleep while my life was about to change forever.
I caught my reflection in the window. Pale, hollow-eyed, lips bitten raw from nerves. I looked exactly like what I was—a broke girl who'd sold her body because she was out of options.
But underneath the fear was something else. Something I didn't want to admit. I'm very curious.
About him. The mystery man who was paying me more money than I'd ever seen to carry his child.
What kind of man does that? And why did the thought of him make my skin feel too tight?
The clinic looked more like a high-end spa than a medical facility. All marble soft lighting and fresh flowers. Ellie was waiting for me at the entrance with her ever-present clipboard.
"Right on time," she said, leading me through corridors that smelled like expensive perfume and antiseptic.
The room they put me in was ridiculous. Plush chairs, and ambient lighting, like they were trying to make me forget I was about to be artificially inseminated with a stranger's embryo.
"Please change into the gown," Ellie said. "Dr. Freeman will be with you shortly."
The hospital gown was thin, barely covering anything. I sat on the edge of the bed, bare legs dangling, trying not to think about how exposed I felt.
That's when it hit me. What if this was a huge mistake? What if I wasn't ready? What if I could never handle being pregnant, giving birth, handing over a baby?
Dr. Freeman knocked and entered. Older guy with kind eyes and steady hands. He made it all sound so routine.
"The embryo is healthy, your hormone levels are perfect, everything looks great," he said, reviewing my chart. Then he paused. "I should mention—your sponsor has requested to observe the transfer remotely."
My stomach dropped. "He'll what?"
"It's not uncommon. There will be a privacy screen, and you won't see or hear anything. But he'll be able to watch the procedure without seeing your face. He doesn't want to know what you look like."
I stared at him. This stranger who'd bought access to my body wanted to watch the most intimate part of the whole process. Watch me with my legs spread, vulnerable, being implanted with his child.
"I... okay," I whispered. What choice did I have? I'd signed the contract.
The procedure room was all soft colors and quiet machines. And there, tucked in the corner, a small camera with a blinking red light.
He was watching. My cheeks burned. The sedative they'd given me made everything feel fuzzy, but I could still feel that presence. Like someone breathing down my neck.
Dr. Freeman was gentle, talking me through each step. It was over in minutes—just pressure, then stillness. The strange weight of something foreign inside me.
"Perfect," he said, smiling. "Everything went beautifully."
But as they wheeled me back to recovery, I could still feel those invisible eyes on me. Something about the way that camera had been positioned, the way the whole thing felt so... personal.
This wasn't just a clinical observation. This felt like he was claiming me somehow. I lay there for God knows how long, with my hand on my stomach. Nothing felt different yet, but everything had changed.
I wasn't just a surrogate anymore. I was carrying his child. This man who'd paid to watch me, to own this piece of me for nine months. And the worst part? I was dying to know who he was.
I tried to sleep that afternoon but kept thinking about those dark eyes I'd imagined behind the camera. When I finally dozed off, I dreamed of shadows and whispered words I couldn't quite make out.
I woke up flushed and restless, my body humming with an energy I didn't understand.
I'd thought this would be simple. Get pregnant, have a baby, collect my money. But lying there in that recovery room, I realized I'd made a mistake.
This wasn't just about the baby anymore. Somehow, without even meeting him, I'd become tangled up with a man I knew nothing about.
And I had no idea how to untangle myself. This stranger was already under my skin, and I had eight and a half months left to figure out what that meant.