CHAPTER 3 : LEAVING ME BEHIND

The pregnancy was harder than I could have imagined. It wasn’t the physical toll—though the morning sickness, exhaustion, and constant doctor’s appointments were challenging enough. It was the emotional weight that threatened to crush me every day.

Mom was still in the hospital, her condition touch-and-go. With the initial payment I’d received from the surrogacy agreement, I made deposits for the commencement of her treatment, paid off my dad's debts, renewed our rent and I barely managed to keep up. I spent every free moment by her bedside, holding her hand and hoping she would pull through.

But even as I tried to focus on her, my growing belly was a constant reminder of the life I was carrying—one that wasn’t mine to keep. I avoided mirrors, avoided neighbors and their questions. It was only my closest pal, Linda that knew what i was going through and she made it her duty to be available whenever I needed her. Thinking about the baby was anything more than a promise I had to fulfill. It was the only way I could cope.

Dr. Hart was my only consistent connection to Gerald Thompson and the process I had signed up for. She was efficient, almost cold, her focus always on the medical aspects of the pregnancy. She never mentioned Gerald, and I never asked. It was easier to pretend he didn’t exist, that this was just a transaction between me and her.

The months dragged on, a blur of hospital visits, checkups, and sleepless nights. By the time my due date arrived, I was physically and emotionally drained.

The delivery was long and painful, but when it was over, I heard the baby’s first cry—a sound so pure it broke something inside me. For a brief, fleeting moment, I wanted to see the baby, to hold them in my arms. But I knew the rules. I wasn’t supposed to bond, wasn’t supposed to feel anything.

I passed out from exhaustion shortly after the birth, the weight of it all finally too much to bear. When I woke up hours later, the room was quiet—too quiet. My arms felt empty, and my heart sank as I realized what had happened.

Dr. Hart appeared in the doorway, her expression as calm and professional as ever. “The baby has been transferred to another caretaker,” she said, her tone devoid of emotion. “A nurse chosen by Mr. Thompson is taking care of the child now. It’s all in accordance with the agreement.”

Her words were clinical, rehearsed, but they hit me like a punch to the gut.

“I didn’t even get to see them,” I whispered, my voice breaking.

“That wasn’t part of the arrangement,” she replied, her eyes fixed on mine. “You knew this from the beginning, Kayla. The baby isn’t yours. Nonetheless, your complete payment has been sent to your account, it was nice doing business with you, Miss Evans.”

I turned my face away, tears streaming silently down my cheeks. I had known this would happen, but knowing didn’t make it hurt any less.

As Dr. Hart left the room, I lay there in the sterile hospital bed, my body weak but my mind racing. I had done what I promised, given Gerald Thompson what he wanted. But the emptiness inside me was something I hadn’t prepared for, something I wasn’t sure I could ever fill.

All I had left was the hope that I’d done the right thing—for Mom, for the baby, and for myself. But in that moment, it didn’t feel like a triumph. It felt like a loss I would carry forever.

Author's POV

Gerald Thompson wasn’t the kind of man to be forgotten. He had a presence that could silence a room and a reputation that made people tread carefully around him. He wasn’t just a billionaire; he was the billionaire—young, driven, and ruthless in his pursuits.

At thirty-two, Gerald had built an empire that stretched across industries, from cutting-edge tech to luxury real estate. People whispered about his brilliance, and his almost terrifying ability to get what he wanted. But they also whispered about his temper, his icy demeanor, and his unapologetic disregard for anything—or anyone—that didn’t serve his goals. He'd killed without thinking twice if a hard task that earned him more money was a failure. He was a man who was money-driven and selfish with anything that earned him more money. He was heartless and ruthless, having no regard for anyone, old or young.

Gerald was handsome in a way that seemed almost unfair. Sharp cheekbones, piercing gray eyes that seemed to see through lies, and a jawline so defined it could’ve been sculpted from marble. His dark hair was always perfectly styled, his suits tailored to perfection, his body built with broad shoulders that even his suit couldn't hide. Women adored him, men envied him, and everyone respected—or feared—him.

But for all his wealth and power, Gerald Thompson was an enigma. He wasn’t the kind of man who let people close. He had no time for idle chatter, no patience for small talk, and certainly no interest in indulging anyone’s expectations.

His fiancée, Tasha Bonds was the kind of woman most people dreamed of being or being with. She was beautiful, poised, and came from one of the most influential families in the city. On paper, they were the perfect power couple.

In reality, their relationship was a transactional arrangement—an alliance of wealth and prestige, not love or even friendship. Gerald barely tolerated Tasha's presence, treating her more like a business partner than a romantic interest. She, in turn, seemed content to play the role of the glamorous fiancée, basking in the spotlight his name afforded her.

If Gerald noticed her growing resentment or her subtle digs about his coldness, he didn’t show it. Emotional entanglements weren’t his concern. He had more important things to focus on—his business, his legacy, and the child he had worked so carefully to bring into the world.

The child was the one thing Gerald truly cared about, though even that was more about control than affection. He had always wanted an heir, someone to carry on the Thompson name and empire. But he didn’t want the complications of a traditional family. He had chosen surrogacy as a practical solution, bypassing the struggles of personal relationships to get exactly what he wanted: a child who was his in every way that mattered, raised under his terms and his vision.

To most, Gerald was a mystery wrapped in arrogance and cloaked in ambition. But beneath the layers of his cold, calculating exterior was a man who believed in power, control, and the legacy he was building—nothing more, nothing less.

Or at least, that’s what he told himself.