“No, honey. It’s all artificial insemination. The embryo belongs to a married couple who can’t conceive. You’re just the vessel. There’s no genetic link to you. And once the baby’s delivered, you walk away — clean, safe, and rich.”
I sat there, staring at the phone for a long time.
Then I looked at David — pale, breathing weakly — and at Sophie sleeping beside him.
Three days later, I texted Lena:
“I’ll do it.”
Everything happened fast.
I was taken to a private clinic in Los Angeles, where they did a full-body checkup, hormone tests, and even psychological screening.
As they handed me the contract, it was twenty pages long. I didn’t read every line.
The last sentence was enough to make my stomach twist:
“The surrogate voluntarily waives all rights to the child and agrees to maintain strict confidentiality.”
I signed it.
7 days later, they implanted the embryo.
I said to everyone that I was taking a temporary job out of town.
Even David didn’t know. He believed that I was working extra shifts to pay for his medicine.
“You shouldn’t work so hard,” he said one night over the phone, coughing.
“You’ve done enough for me.”
I smiled through the tears.
« Pas encore », ai-je murmuré
Au troisième mois, j’ai reçu mon premier paiement, soit 20 000 $ virés sur mon compte.
J’ai immédiatement payé les factures d’hôpital de David, acheté le nouveau traitement et embauché une infirmière privée.
Sa couleur s’est améliorée. Son sourire lui revint.
Il n’avait aucune idée que chaque respiration qu’il prenait était achetée avec les battements de cœur empruntés à mon corps.
Mais au quatrième mois, tout a changé.
Lena appela.
Son ton n’était pas bon.
