Chapter 1
"Graham, you’ve really outdone yourself this time, thinking of having Arabella carry a child for you and Josie," one of Graham Thomas’s friends quipped with a smirk.
"What else could I do? Josie’s terrified of the pain, and I can’t stand the thought of putting her through childbirth," Graham replied, shrugging like it was no big deal.
Arabella Martin had just stepped into the private lounge when she caught wind of their conversation. The moment they spotted her, Graham’s friends clammed up, their expressions turning awkward.
Graham, though, stayed cool as a cucumber. "Her hearing aid’s busted. The new one won’t be here for a few days, so she can’t hear a thing right now," he explained casually, motioning for her to sit beside him.
Arabella brushed her hair over her ear, hiding the new external unit of her hearing aid she’d just picked up today. Thanks to her hearing impairment, she’d had surgery to implant the device and needed the external unit to hear properly. Her old one had conked out three days ago, and though she expected the new one next week, it had shown up early. The upgrade promised better sound clarity—great news, except now the hurtful words she overheard were crystal clear.
The conversation between Graham and his friends rolled on, more brazen now that they thought she couldn’t hear them.
"So, what’s the game plan once the baby’s here? Just hand it over to Josie?" one buddy asked.
"Little kids are a handful, and they won’t remember squat before they’re three. Josie can’t deal with that, so Arabella can handle it for now," Graham shot back, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
He seemed completely clueless that Arabella would also go through the wringer of childbirth and childcare.
His words shattered any lingering illusions, laying bare the ugly truth of love and disregard.
Arabella’s hand trembled as she rested it on her belly. She’d endured the brutal egg retrieval process three times in a year, each time feeling like a needle was driving inches into her body. Tears had poured down her face from the agony, but she’d gritted her teeth, bearing it all for what she thought was their future children.
The procedure lasted less than ten minutes, but it felt like an eternity. By the end, her clothes were soaked with cold sweat, and even back in her room, her body wouldn’t stop shaking.
Now, three months along and past the danger zone, she’d started to look forward to the twins’ arrival. But she never imagined these babies weren’t biologically hers at all.
Noticing her discomfort, Graham placed a gentle hand on her shoulder and signed, "What’s wrong?" His gaze was as tender as ever, but no amount of softness could erase the harsh reality.
"I’m tired. I want to go home," Arabella said, standing up.
Graham, ever the gentleman, signed, "Sure, let me walk you downstairs."
As they got up to leave, the crude jokes started up again among his friends.
"Arabella’s hot, but her voice is weird. Couldn’t handle that in bed," one cracked.
"Graham says she’s dead silent in bed, like a corpse," another joked.
"No wonder Graham’s still hung up on Josie," someone snickered.
"She’s just a nurse’s daughter. How could she ever measure up to Josie?" another chimed in.
Graham’s broad hand stayed on her shoulder, seemingly oblivious to the cruel remarks.
Arabella bit her lip hard, fighting to keep her emotions in check.
Before they got into the car, Graham gently touched her abdomen, whispering, "Be good, baby. Mommy and Daddy love you."
Arabella’s heart ached, knowing full well the "Mommy" he meant wasn’t her.
Back at home, Arabella pulled out her phone, found the contact labeled [Ronald Wheeler], and fired off a message:
"[Professor Wheeler, I’d like to join the national secret project you mentioned.]"