Chapter 4: As Life Knocks Upon the Door
That morning, the sky wasn’t clear. Sunbeams seemed to have been held back behind layers of ash-gray clouds, leaving only pale, silvery light to drift over the still-sleepy garden. The early wind felt colder than usual, slipping through the window cracks like a soft whisper, as though hinting that something was waiting just ahead.
Anna woke with a heaviness in her chest. Not from a dream—she hadn’t dreamed anything. It was just that something in her felt off. She sat up slowly, feeling a slight dizziness wash over her like small waves lapping at a shore. Her throat was dry and her stomach unsettled—as if her whole body was trying to say something she hadn’t yet understood.
She placed her hand over her belly. Beneath the thin nightgown, her skin was still smooth, with no sign of change, but Anna knew… maybe, just maybe, there was something small beginning to root there.
Or… maybe nothing at all. The thought made her hesitate. Her heart suddenly raced. What if the embryo transfer hadn’t succeeded? What if all these sensations were just imagination, the result of psychological stress?
She lowered her gaze to the wooden floor at her feet, where dim light traced silent figures. Perhaps this anxiety was normal. She was just a surrogate—she wasn’t allowed to feel too much. But her body was still her own. And that life, no matter whose it belonged to, had been—or was—a part of her.
When she stepped into the hallway, she met Klair—the familiar housekeeper, dressed in her white apron, her gentle eyes like rare sunlight in this hushed mansion.
“Mrs. Klair, I feel… a little unwell. Could you call the doctor for me?” Anna asked, trying to keep her voice calm though her hands trembled slightly.
The housekeeper looked at her for a moment, then smiled softly as if everything had already been arranged.
“Miss Anna, don’t worry—today is exactly the day for your follow up after the embryo transfer. Once you get to the hospital, the doctor will check everything for you.”
Anna froze. Her heart skipped a beat. Two weeks—it had already been two weeks since the transfer?
“Mr. Leon will take you to the hospital,” Klair added, speaking matter of factly.
Anna stopped in her tracks. Each word echoed inside her like a bell from afar. “He… is home?”
Klair nodded, her eyes seeming to know more than she said. “He came back this morning. He insisted on bringing you himself.”
Their conversation faded into silence, and two hours passed.
The car glided silently over dew dampened roads. The air was fresh and still, a delicate cocoon for two people who sat apart—as distant as they were bound together by something far more sacred than any contract.
Anna sat beside Leon in the car, both keeping just enough distance to avoid awkwardness. Yet Anna’s heart could not remain still. She could no longer feel the coolness of the AC, nor hear the soft hum of tires on the road.
Each passing minute tightened her chest. Had she done something wrong that the embryo failed to implant? Was this nausea and dizziness a sign of failure?
She looked out, seeing rows of trees blurred behind the glass, speedily drifting by. But her anxiety felt frozen in time—neither retreating nor advancing, just tremulous.
Anna glanced at Leon—his high nose, rigid jawline, eyes cold as freshly sharpened steel. His face gave no warmth; it made her feel small and pitiful.
He hadn’t said a word since she got in the car. No question of whether she’d slept well, if she was tired, if she needed anything.
Just silence. A silence that made it seem they had never met, never signed the agreement that bound a life to her.
Anna looked away, uncertain of her own emotions. Empty? Hurt? Simply hollow?
Perhaps she had expected something—a word, a gesture. A minimal show of care, even if just for appearance’s sake.
She smiled to herself—a sharp, painful smile.
“What was I even waiting for?”
“I’m only a surrogate. That’s all.”
And in the depth of that silence, her heart surged again—not because of him, but because of something vague… like a quiet prayer whispered to the unknown:
“Please… let this baby come to me safely…”
Before long, they arrived at Sterling Care, a private clinic. The hospital felt bright, pristine—even cold. Yet the doctor’s gentle voice warmed everything:
“Good news. The embryo has implanted. It was successful.”
Anna couldn’t catch her breath. Her throat tightened. Her heart felt like it would burst from her chest. She stared at the ultrasound screen—the tiny, still point held firmly, as if it were setting the beat of her heart in a way she had never experienced… All her worries pooled there and shattered into an indescribable emotion. She didn’t cry. But if someone had gently touched her right then, she’d likely have erupted into tears like a child.
Leon remained silent. Yet he gazed at the ultrasound with intensity. His eyes were not on her—but on something growing slowly, quietly, more real than anything in his life so far.
“As for the symptoms you described, Ms. Anna,” the doctor said, “they are all normal. Your body is adjusting to pregnancy hormones. There’s nothing to worry about.”
Anna nodded. But not because of the doctor’s words—for the first time in two weeks, she felt truly relieved.
On the way back, Leon asked, “Would you like to go straight home, or do you need anything else?”
Anna looked out the window, raindrops beginning to scatter like fine threads of sky draping the glass.
“Just home,” she replied softly. “I’m a bit tired. I want to rest.”
Leon didn’t answer. But as the car turned down the cobbled path back to the mansion, Anna saw—in one of her glances—that he was looking at her again.
Not as a contract-holder. Not merely as the father-to-be.
But with silent acknowledgement of someone who had just learned: there is a very small life, but real… and it had knocked on their door, and been accepted.
It’s just that they didn’t yet know how much that presence would change everything.