“I’m sorry. We can’t do the procedure,” the doctor said, setting the paper on the desk and looking at me.
I closed my eyes waiting for the bad news. I didn’t want to see Bran’s disappointment.
“You mean today? Why? Is she not ovulating?” Bran asked.
“We can’t do the procedure with Ms. Francis for nine months. Ms. Francis, you’re already pregnant.”
My eyes snapped open. “What?”
“This happens from time to time with a surrogate. Of course, you’ll need to tell your partner.” The doctor turned his attention to Bran. “I know this is a disappointment, but I’m sure you won’t have any trouble finding a new surrogate.”
Bran looked at me. His eyes were round in shock. Just like mine. He gave his head a shake and stood, reaching out his hand to me to help me up.
“Thank you doctor. It’s clear that your services aren’t needed. Don’t worry, I’ll still pay in full.”
The doctor’s brows furrowed. “Full payment isn’t due until—”
“I’m going to have my lawyer send over addendums to our non-disclosure agreement. I’d appreciate you signing them. I’ll make the full payment then.”
“Ah—”
Bran took my arm and ushered me out of the office. He didn’t say anything as we drove back to his mansion. I couldn’t decide what he was thinking or feeling. Was he mad? Happy? Shocked?
When he pulled into his driveway, he stopped, his fingers gripping the steering wheel. “Looks like the old-fashioned way paid off.” He turned to me. “Right?”
It took me a moment to figure out what he was asking. He was questioning whether the baby was his. Miffed, I got out of the car.
He exited his side and followed me to the house.
I whirled on him. “When would I have had sex with someone else, Bran? You watch me like a hawk.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry. I thought maybe before—”
“Before when I had my exam, I wasn’t pregnant.” I entered the house, ignoring Mr. Joseph. “I’m tired. I’m going upstairs to rest. Don’t follow me, Bran.”
When I reached the upstairs landing, I glanced back to make sure Bran wasn’t behind me. He was in the foyer, looking up at me. I had an urge to rush down and launch myself in his arms. We were having a baby. Except we weren’t.
He was.
I was just the vessel carrying his child.
When I got to my room, I shut the door and collapsed on the bed. Tears threatened but I couldn’t decide why. What was the difference if I was pregnant from a clinical procedure or the old-fashioned way?
The truth was, there was a big difference. We made this child together, not in a sterile environment. Maybe I didn’t want to have sex with him anymore, but that was because it was too confusing on my emotions. The more time I spent with Bran, the more I liked him. The more I wanted to spend time with him. When he’d talk about the child, I wanted to be there to see him be a father.
Oh God. I was having Bran’s baby. A baby he expected me to walk away from when it was born.
It seemed like something I could do when the agreement was that I’d be artificially inseminated. Sure, it was Bran’s sperm either way, but having a doctor shove something inside my uterus to impregnate me created a distance between me and Bran, between me and the baby.
But that wasn’t how this baby was made.
This baby was made by Bran being inside me. Our bodies connecting in the most intimate way possible.
This was Bran, the man I found myself admiring for his strength and commitment.
Bran, the man who knew how to pleasure my body, even if only in my dreams.
Bran, the father of my child.