CHAPTER 5

EMMA'S POV

Three weeks into hormone treatments, and I want to murder everyone.

I'm standing in the hotel kitchen trying to plate a dessert while my hands shake and sweat drips down my back. The hormones make me hot all the time, nauseous half the day, and so emotional I cried yesterday because a customer sent back a crème brûlée.

"Chen, you okay?" One of the line cooks asks. "You look pale."

"I'm fine. Just tired."

That's the lie I've been telling everyone. Not: I'm pumping my body full of hormones to prepare to carry a billionaire's baby.

My phone buzzes. A text from Dominic: "Appointment with Dr. Patel tomorrow at 10 AM. James will pick you up at 9:30."

I've seen Dominic exactly twice since that first appointment. But mostly, he's been absent. Texts about appointments. Emails from his assistant. Nothing personal.

Exactly what the contract specified.

So why does it bother me?

I finish my shift and drive to the hospital. Lily's in the common room playing cards. She's gained weight, and her color is better. The treatment is working.

"Emmy!" She waves me over.

I sit down, and the room spins slightly. The hormones again.

"You okay?" Lily's watching me too closely.

"Fine. Long shift."

"You've been saying that a lot lately."

Lily studies my face. "You look different. Something's changed."

Panic flutters in my chest. Can she tell?

"New hair product," I lied.

"That's not it. You seem sad. Or scared."

"I'm just busy with the new job."

Lily's quiet. "I still feel guilty. About you using that signing bonus for my treatment."

"Don't. That's what family does."

"But what about culinary school? Your dreams?"

"My dreams can wait. You can't."

She squeezes my hand. "I'm going to make this up to you someday."

The words make my throat tight. She has no idea what I'm actually sacrificing.

My phone buzzes. Another text from Dominic: "How are you feeling? Any concerning symptoms?"

It's the first personal question he's asked in three weeks.

"Fine," I type back.

"That's not an answer."

"Hot flashes, nausea, mood swings. Dr. Patel said it's normal."

"I'm sorry you're going through this."

"It's what I signed up for."

No reply. Typical.

I stay with Lily for another hour, then drive home. Tomorrow is the big appointment where Dr. Patel will determine if I'm ready for embryo transfer.

I take my nighttime pills. My body looks the same, but it won't for long. Soon there will be a baby growing inside me. A baby I'll have to love and let go.

What if I can't do it? What if I carry this baby for nine months and can't hand it over?

The contract is ironclad. I'd lose everything.

But what if my heart doesn't care about contracts?

I lie awake for hours.

At 2 AM, my phone rings. Dominic.

"Hello?"

"Did I wake you?"

"No. Can't sleep."

"Me neither. Are you nervous about tomorrow?"

"Terrified."

"Me too."

The admission surprises me. "Why are you terrified? You're not the one getting implanted with an embryo."

"No, but if this works, everything changes. For both of us."

I sit up. "Are you having second thoughts?"

Long silence. "I don't know. Are you?"

"Every single day."

"But you're still going through with it."

"Are you?"

Another pause. "My grandmother called today. She laughed and said I'd never go through with it, that I'm too emotionally stunted to be a father."

"That's horrible."

"That's Grace Westbrook. She wants me to fail so she can control the company completely."

"Then why are you doing this?"

"Because the company is mine. I built it from nothing."

His voice is hard, angry.

"Dominic, why did you really call?"

Silence stretches so long I think he might have hung up.

"Because I wanted to make sure you're okay. And because I'm sitting here wondering if I'm making the biggest mistake of my life."

"Join the club."

"Does it help? Knowing I'm as scared as you are?"

"A little. At least we're equally miserable."

He laughs, and it's such an unexpected sound that I smile despite everything.

"Emma, if this works tomorrow, if you get pregnant, I promise I'll make this as easy as possible for you. Whatever you need."

"What I need is to not feel like an incubator."

"I know. I'm sorry I made you feel that way. Dr. Patel was right. I've been treating this like a transaction when it's so much more."

"What changed your mind?"

"You did. Watching you go through three weeks of hormone treatments without complaint. Seeing you visit your sister every day even though you feel terrible. You're stronger than anyone I've ever met, and I've been taking that for granted."

The words settle something anxious in my chest.

"Thank you for saying that."

"I should have said it weeks ago. Get some sleep. Tomorrow's a big day."

"Dominic?"

"Yeah?"

"Are we really doing this? Really bringing a baby into this mess?"

"I think we decided that the moment we signed the contract. Now we're just following through."

"That's not comforting."

"No. But it's honest."

He hangs up, and I'm left staring at my phone in the dark.

Tomorrow, everything changes.

I finally fall asleep around four, and when my alarm goes off at eight, I feel like I've been hit by a truck.

James picks me up at nine-thirty exactly.

Dominic is already in the waiting room when I arrive. He stands when he sees me.

"You look tired," he says.

"Couldn't sleep."

"Me neither."

We stand there awkwardly until the nurse calls us back.

Dr. Patel greets us. "Ready for the big day?"

"Is anyone ever ready for something like this?" I ask.

"No. But that doesn't mean you're not prepared." She gestures to the exam chair. "Emma, let's do an ultrasound first."

I lie back. Dominic stands near the door.

"You can come closer," Dr. Patel says.

He moves beside me as Dr. Patel does the ultrasound.

"Perfect," Dr. Patel says. "Your lining is exactly where we need it to be. Emma, you're ready for transfer."

My heart starts racing. "Today?"

"If you want to. I have an opening this afternoon. We'd transfer one embryo. In two weeks, we'll do a blood test to confirm pregnancy."

I look at Dominic. He looks at me.

"What do you think?" he asks quietly.

I think of Lily, getting stronger every day. I think of how there's no going back now anyway.

"Let's do it," I say.

Dr. Patel nods. "Alright. Emma, stay here. Dominic, we'll need a fresh sperm sample. The lab will combine it with the donor egg and create the embryo. Then we'll transfer it this afternoon."

Dominic's face flushes. "Right. Of course."

He leaves, and I'm alone with Dr. Patel.

"How are you really feeling?" she asks gently.

"Like I'm about to jump off a cliff."

"That's normal. This is a big moment."

"What if I can't do it? What if I get attached and can't give up the baby?"

Dr. Patel takes my hand. "Then we'll deal with it. But Emma, you're stronger than you think."

"Dominic doesn't want to be involved. Not really."

"Are you sure? Because the man I just saw looks terrified and protective and very involved."

I want to believe her.

Hours pass. I wait in a recovery room while the lab creates the embryo. Dominic returns and sits with me.

Finally, Dr. Patel comes back. "We're ready. Emma, this will be quick. Dominic, you can stay or wait outside."

"I'll stay," he says immediately.

Dr. Patel performs the transfer. It takes maybe ten minutes. She places an embryo inside me, and just like that, I might be pregnant.

"Rest here for thirty minutes, then you can go home," Dr. Patel says. "No strenuous activity for forty-eight hours. We won't know anything for two weeks."

Two weeks of waiting.

After she leaves, Dominic and I sit in silence.

"Thank you," he finally says.

"You keep saying that."

"Because I keep meaning it."

I close my eyes. Somewhere inside me might be the beginning of a baby. A baby I'll fall in love with and have to give away.

"Dominic?"

"Yeah?"

"Promise me something."

"Anything."

"Promise me you'll be a good father. Promise me this baby will be loved and wanted."

He's quiet for so long I think he won't answer.

Then: "I promise."

He reaches over and squeezes my hand. Just once, briefly, but it feels like everything is shifting between us.

Like maybe this isn't just a transaction after all.

"What happens now?" I ask.

"Now we wait. And hope."

"I'm not good at hoping."

"Me neither. But maybe we can learn together.”