It began with a so-called family meeting—one of those awkward, overly formal gatherings that always meant someone wanted something. Jessica sat in the car next to her husband, James, rolling her eyes as they drove to his mother Diane’s house. There was always drama in James’s family. This time, she assumed, would be no different.
But what was waiting for her was far more than the usual gossip or passive-aggressive jabs over dinnerware. It was a request that would change the course of her life.
Diane greeted Jessica with her usual frosty hug, and Matt, James’s younger brother, gave a sheepish nod from across the living room. They wasted no time. “Jessica,” Matt said, his voice shaky, “I’m engaged.” Jessica offered a warm congratulations, genuinely happy for him, until she noticed the nervous glances between Matt and Diane.
Matt explained his fiancée was a wildlife photographer stationed in the Ethiopian Highlands, making contact nearly impossible. Diane quickly jumped in, her voice syrupy-sweet. “She has health issues. She can’t carry children. We were hoping… you might consider being her surrogate.”
Jessica’s heart sank. She stared at James, expecting disbelief or outrage. But he sat quietly, eyes on the floor. He already knew.
“You want me to carry your baby?” she asked, stunned.
James tried to soften the blow by mentioning the compensation—how it would cover their kids’ college funds, fund home renovations, help them all. “It’s for the family,” he said, as if that made it any less outrageous.
Despite every instinct screaming at her to say no, Jessica agreed. She told herself it was for the kids. For the future. For peace.
The pregnancy was brutal. Morning sickness that lasted all day, back pain, fatigue—she felt like a machine breaking down in slow motion. Matt visited often, always checking on the baby. But the woman she was carrying the child for remained a ghost. Nine months passed, and not once had Jessica spoken to the mysterious fiancée. Every time she asked, she got a new excuse. Spotty Wi-Fi. Rare birds. Harsh terrain.
It didn’t sit right. And as the due date loomed closer, the discomfort in her body was matched only by the unease in her heart.
The day labor began, James drove her to the hospital. Diane and Matt arrived soon after, acting as if they were the ones having the child. Jessica, fed up, told them to leave the room. She wanted space. She needed time to think.
Then James’s phone buzzed. “Matt’s fiancée is here,” he said, slipping out of the room.
When he returned, he wasn’t alone. The woman by his side was stunning—and heartbreakingly familiar.
“Rachel?” Jessica whispered, feeling like the air had been ripped from her lungs.
Rachel smiled with teary-eyed joy, thanking Jessica for carrying “our” baby. But all Jessica could feel was the sound of her world collapsing. Rachel had been James’s high school sweetheart—the woman he once admitted he’d never gotten over. Jessica had banned her name from their home after catching James drunk one night, scrolling through her old photos. Now, that same woman stood beaming at the foot of Jessica’s hospital bed, about to take the child Jessica had carried for nine agonizing months.
“You knew,” Jessica whispered to James. “You knew the whole time and you never told me.”
