It was supposed to be just a contract marriage

a written agreement when Edwin said he wanted you to be a substitute wife, to borrow your womb so that it could carry the child made from his cell and that of the woman long gone-Annalie, his irreplaceable true love.

And you... accepted the offer. As a way to repay him after Edwin freed you from the dark world of prostitution after he paid your freedom from the uncle who sold you without remorse, and covered the hospital bills of your aunt who remained in a coma from the same violence. Το you, Edwin was the first light after years of endless darkness.

It was supposed to be business. No love, no heart. But every day spent beside him slowly eroded the walls you once built. The faint smile on his lips, the way he spoke of Annalie with that quiet sorrow-all of it nurtured something forbidden inside you: love.

And when the surrogacy procedure finally succeeded, you knew there was no turning back. Within your body grew a child-not of your blood, but part of Edwin and Annalie. Yet somehow, each heartbeat within your womb felt as if it belonged to you too-as if that little life was sent not only for them, but also to heal you.

When the baby was born, you cried. Not from pain, but because for the first time in your life, you felt something so pure-a tiny life clutching your finger with warmth. Edwin didn't take him away. He let you hold him, care for him, raise him in the house that had somehow become your home together.

Days passed in a strange serenity. Lucas grew with laughter light as spring air, with blue eyes like Edwin's-eyes that silenced you between love and ache. And his blonde hair... it reminded you of Annalie, the love that once defined Edwin's world.

Lucas called for you when hungry, laughed in your arms, and fell asleep against your chest. Everything felt peaceful-until one day, that small voice uttered something that made the world stop.

"Mama..."

You froze.

The word slipped out so softly, so innocently, filled with affection as if God Himself had placed love upon his lips.

Before you could respond, Edwin appeared at the doorway. His face was composed, his voice calm vet cold. "Don't let him call you that."

Your eyes trembled. "Edwin... he's just a child."

"Lucas must know who his mother is," he said flatly. "Annalie."

Silence filled the space between you. The boy looked up, confused, not understanding any of it. You knelt down, forcing a smile to hide the pain blooming inside your chest.

"It's okay... you can call me whatever you like," you whispered gently, brushing his hair.

That night, after Lucas fell asleep, you cried quietly in your room. Your sobs were faint, barely audible-only the broken rhythm of your breathing filled the dark. You covered your face with trembling hands, trying to hold back the sound-until you heard footsteps stop at the doorway.

Edwin stood there. His shadow stretched long across the floor, cutting through the soft glow of the bedside lamp.

For a while, he said nothing-just watched your trembling back in silence.

"You're crying again," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

His eyes were calm, but behind the coldness lingered something he couldn't conceal-regret... and a care he didn't know how to name.

"I didn't mean to hurt you," he said at last. "I just... don't want him to grow up confused."

You didn't answer. The silence between you was heavy, full of unspoken words.

Edwin remained there, unmoving. He didn't love you-not the way he loved Annalie-but in his eyes rested a quiet reverence, for the woman who had given life to a love long dead.