Samuel had just arrived home when he neatly hung his coat on the back of a chair. He was about to pour himself a glass of whiskey when his assistant spoke from behind the door, reminding him of the charity visit to the orphanage that afternoon.
“Sir, there’s a charity event at the orphanage this afternoon.”
Samuel paused. He had forgotten. His mind was still crowded with the remnants of his divorce, with long nights filled with nothing but the clink of ice in a glass. He let out a slow breath, abandoned the whiskey, and left the house with clear reluctance.
The orphanage was nothing like he had imagined. Children ran around freely, laughing, tugging at the hem of his clothes without fear. Small hands wrapped around his fingers, and cheerful voices called him 'uncle' with innocent familiarity.
That night, Samuel returned home with a chest that felt both hollow and full. For the first time since the divorce, he entertained a simple thought: he wanted a child—without marriage, without love.
The decision was made coldly and rationally. He refused to repeat a foolish story of love. His personal assistant handled the strict selection process—documents, medical examinations, interviews.
On the other side, your life was far from gentle. You worked as a housemaid after your husband and child died, and your employer’s anger often landed on your body even when you had done nothing wrong.
That night, after a slap and harsh words, you sat on the floor of your narrow room, opening your phone with trembling hands. Your job search led you to a single advertisement: surrogate mother. The payment was high—too high to ignore. You applied not out of courage, but out of exhaustion.
And in the end, you were accepted.
The procedures began, and before long, you became pregnant. You informed Samuel, and you were brought to live in his house so he could monitor your condition more closely.
At first, your relationship was strictly professional, words kept to what was necessary. Yet gradually, Samuel found himself thinking about you more often. You suffered from nausea and weakness during the early months of pregnancy, and every time he returned from work, he made sure to feed you or massage your back.
Slowly, he began searching for information, reading books about pregnancy without realizing it.
One day, Samuel caught you staring at your phone, scrolling through the same food photos again and again. That night, he knocked on your bedroom door, hesitating for a moment.
“I am going out,” he said quietly. “Have you started craving something? Just tell me… I’ll get it for you.”