Chapter Eight

EMMA’S POV

"Is there a problem, Emma?" Nurse Stella raises her head from the computer, with that warm smile always stuck on her face.

The urge to ask her becomes stronger, maybe it is because I find her endearing smile comforting.

Torn between professionalism and my crazy inquisitive mind, in hesitation, I nod my head in the negative.

"Not at all." I give a curt smile.

"Alright. Give me few minutes and I'll print out something for you." She stands up from her chair and made for the door.

As soon as the door closes, I check for any camera. I am not sure but I feel I am being watched. I almost reach for the computer in an attempt to search through the files for any name attached to mine—it could be the intended parents—and then, I hear footsteps.

I withdraw my hands, acting as though I just cleaned a speck from the computer.

Phew.

I gasp, grateful I did not do more than that.

Nurse Stella walks in gracefully to her seat.

"I'm back. I hope I'm punctual." She smiles.

"Of course." I returned the smile.

"Here's a list of food to eat this week. We are doing this to make sure you eat healthy and be healthy. You and your baby." She explains, handing me a printed paper containing a food table.

I tap my feet, reading through it. I haven't had my food scheduled for me until this surrogacy. The foods are quite delicious and easy if we choose to ignore the expenses.

I take a pause, re-reading what I see,

"I'm allergic to peanut butter."

"Oh, I forgot to read through that part of your file. I thought I had everything in my head. I'm sorry, Emma. Replace peanut butter with fruit jam, alright?"

"Yes, Nurse."

She blink her eyes. I suppose this is the end of our meeting.

"Can I take my leave now?" I politely ask.

"Of course," She stands up, "I would see you to the door."

She gets to the door before, opening and ushering me out carefully that I feel like a fragile egg. We walk through the beautiful reception and in few steps, we are outside.

The natural breeze hit my face airily. Inside was airy, but this breeze outside is different. It makes me feel more anxious than peace. I wonder what would become of me in a few years time.

"Emma, have a safe trip home." Nurse Stella's voice barges into my thoughts.

"Thank you." I wave and watch her go into the clinic.

My phone suddenly comes to life with a familiar ringtone. I fish it out from my medium purse bag, I glanced at the screen. It is my colleague, Mel, from work.

With a quick swipe, I answer the call. "Hey, Mel, what's up?"

Mel's voice, filled with warmth, greets me from the other end of the line. "Hi, Emma! I hope you're doing well. We've all been wondering when you'll be back at work. Plus, I miss you."

I chuckle, appreciating the concern of her coworkers. "I've been tied up, study and a few other things."

She pauses for a second. "That's completely understandable, Emma. I just wanted to check on you. Are you planning to return to work soon?"

I click my tongue and blink my eyes. "Yes, I am," I reply. "Actually, I'll be available at work starting tomorrow evening."

"Alright. I'll be glad to see you around. We've got a lot to talk about." She giggles.

"I know." My voice quite lower than earlier.

She sounds in a rush. "Ugh… I have a customer to attend to. Take care of yourself, Emma."

"You too, Mel."

The call ends in a double beep, leaving me standing alone, under the bright sky. A sudden wave of heat envelope me like a warm embrace, prickling my skin.

My thoughts turn to the deep decision I made to become a surrogate. I contemplate the sacrifices and the rewards. My hand rests on my abdomen, a growing life within my shirt, within me.

I walk slowly on the cobblestone pathway to the road, pinching my skin softly, reminding myself of how well Mother is getting and how luxury has found us.

My mind still drifts back to the surrogacy. How I put my life on the line to help them—the unknown–fulfill their dreams of parenthood is wrapped around the money but, there ought to be a bond with the intended parents. I need to see them.

What if I want my child or children back? What if I want to see how grown they would have become in years? The What if's makes me nauseous. It makes me want to throw up and scrap the deal.

Still in deep thoughts, a yellow taxi cab pull up beside me, its tires crunching on the gravel of the roadside. The driver lean out, the brim of his cap casting a shadow over his face.

I look at the man and his car, and with a grateful nod, I climb into the cab, the cool interior offering a welcome escape from the heat. As the taxi pull away from the sun-drenched roadside, I gaze out of the window hoping life hits me don't as the wind is.

"Hello, Miss. Err, Mrs.” He seems confused. I didn’t mind.

“Please, fasten your seatbelt." His soft baritone voice seeps into my moment.

I lean back to grab the belt and hook it in a space beside my left. "Alright."

"Where are we headed, please?" He asks, his face focused on the wheel, slightly embarrassed from not knowing my title.

I take a glance at the side of his face, about to say my house address until I remember that we had moved out.