Behind Closed Doors

"The offer”

The wind had blown our hair wild, much like Miss Mea's panicked demeanor toward me, "I need you to listen to me carefully, Cathy; I need your help!

And I was astounded by her overwrought reaction.

She pleaded, grabbing my shoulders and holding them tightly, "You promised me you'd do anything to help me, right? Remember the day I was out of my mind and we almost got into an accident? That day, I wanted to die, but you gave me hope. You promised to help me, no matter what and how." She's shaking now. "Did you recall everything you'd said to me, Cathy?"

"Yes, Miss Mea, I remember." I was perplexed, "What can I do to assist you?"

She paused, gathered her strength, and said, "Be the mother of our child, Cathy," she stated emphatically.

“What?” I was taken aback.

For me, what she'd said was more of a bombshell than a cry for help; I'd like to think of it as a joke, but she repeated it emphatically.

"Did you hear what I was saying, Cathy?" she asked, her gaze fixed on mine. “I want you to be the mother of my son.”

I said, "I'm not sure what you're talking about, Miss Mea," as I took a step back, but she gripped my hand even tighter.

She added, "Listen to me, Cathy; I will give you anything you want; money, education, anything you can think of; just give me a chance to explain it clearly to you." Have you ever heard of a surrogate mother? "

It was the first time I heard of such a word, and she proceeded to explain it to me.

She continued, "A surrogate mother is a woman who bears a child for another couple."

"Yes, Cathy, the same as a baby maker who sold their child because they couldn't afford to raise it, something like that, but a surrogate mother would be a little different because you will be physically pregnant with "our baby." She replied quickly, "Your ovary will be the vessel of our child until he or she is born."

Miss Mea was more ecstatic now.

"I have stage one ovarian cancer, Cathy," she begs, "please help me have a child."

"Like a baby maker?" I speculated.

I was perplexed by what she had told me. And I asked curiously, "Did Dr. Rafael Morrow know about all of this, Miss Mea?"

"No!" she exclaimed. My husband was completely unaware of it. He had different plans for us, but his idea was traditional, which I disliked.

"What is his strategy?"

"Rafael settled on adopting a child from an orphanage or looking for a young pregnant mother willing to sell her unwanted child, but I disagreed."

"Why?" I'm even more intrigued now.

"Because I'm not comfortable with the child from the orphanage. What if their parents were criminals? Or do they have a disease passed down from their mother? I want a healthy child from a healthy mother, a mother that I know personally. And it's you, Cathy."

"But I can't," I protested.

"Yes, you can, Cathy," she insisted. "With all the money you can get from me, yes, you can. It's for your good. Think about it, Cathy. Give me a child, and I will change your destiny. Please, Cathy. Consider this your big opportunity. Cathy, it is once in a lifetime. Okay, listen to me carefully. Once we agree on this matter, I will give you two hundred fifty-thousand dollars right now, "she put something in my bag. "And another two hundred fifty-thousand dollars after you bear my child. "

All of my strength was sucked in. My mind was racing from confusion to confusion.

I whispered, "Why me, Miss Mea?"

"Because I know I can rely on you."

"What?" I enquired.

Her desperation struck me, and the way she looked at me made me tremble, as if she was certain of what she had said.

But having a child with Dr. Rafael Morrow, the man of my dreams was unthinkable, especially since he was my boss. How could that be?

"I will give you one week to decide," Miss Mea raged.

I was jolted back into reality, where Miss Mea stood motionless, staring at me.

"One week, Cathy, do you understand?" she said again.

I muttered, "Wait, a week?" And if I agree, I will be a surrogate mother, as Miss Mea refers to me. And at the age of 20, I will have a child. Is it my fate to be a paid mother? Was this the reason I came here? As I was contemplating what was going on, my mind wandered back many months to the day I left home to become a simple servant. That date was December 10, 1995.

The past

Our previous home was peaceful. The white paint had turned light brown, the windows had broken, and it was Regner's house, where I grew up. And I was arguing with my grandfather.

"How could you have done this to your grandmother, Catherine, leaving her before her funeral?" Grandpa was furious.

"I have to do this, and please, Grandpa, don't stop me!"

"You're not going anywhere, Cathy!"

"You can't stop me! I'm leaving!

I dragged my two suitcases out of the room.

"I must depart! I have to carry out Grandma's wishes.

"Why are you doing this, Cathy?" I assumed you adored your grandmother. "Grandpa attempted to persuade me.

My eyes welled up with tears as I looked at him. "Because I can't stand it any longer, staring at that coffin, knowing she's inside, lifeless... I must depart." Grandpa, please accept my apologies. As soon as I walk into Morrow's Mansion, I'll call you. "

Grandpa's voice faded into the background as I got into the taxi. The engine's ignition silenced his yelling and provided me with some temporary relief. I was leaving the place where I spent my childhood and where I had painful memories, but it's time for me to move on.

The taxi took me directly to the bus station, where I stepped onto the bus for my destination.

We drove past rice fields that were nearly ready for harvest, as well as distant mountains where the sun poked through clouds that resembled marshmallows in the sky.

My grandmother's memory lingered on in my mind. She taught me to consider the good fortune I might receive from the Morrow family.

I'm on my way to good fortune now.

We arrived in the fifth town a few minutes later and stopped for a five-minute stretch to urinate before continuing on our journey. My stomach grumbled as a result of several days of not eating a proper meal. I lost my appetite after my grandmother died. When I ate, I choked.

We were startled by a loud explosion. It was coming from underneath, and the bus made a deadly U-TURN, causing us all to scream in terror, mixed with the skidding sounds of tires struggling to stop.

I overheard a man yelling, "Hang tight!" We grabbed everything we could get our hands on. Then I got slammed in the face.

The bus jerked to a halt, slamming me back into my seat. Then there was nothing but silence. Everyone was in a state of shock. Then there's the moaning.

It took several minutes for me to regain my composure before slowly rising, hauling my bags, and exiting the bus. My right foot was shaky, but I pushed myself to a safe location away from the bus, which was miraculously one foot away from the cliff.

It would soon be dark, and some passengers decided to walk after the bus driver informed us that we were only a few kilometers from the next town while attempting to change tires. It was my final stop on my journey. I stumbled to my feet, dragged my belongings, and followed the group, sighing angrily at myself.

After a few minutes, I was alone, and crickets began to fill the air, making it frightening to look ahead at the dark road.

"This is entirely my fault," I mumbled. I had two options, and I chose the wrong one. I should have waited until Saturday, after my grandmother's funeral. I should have listened to my grandfather's advice.

Everything blurred after a few minutes of walking, and all of my strength was gone. A sharp pain accelerated in my head, and everything went black, but after a few minutes, a white dot appeared, and I felt myself floating in the air, the cool breeze brushing against my skin. And then my consciousness returned, and I realized I was being carried by the strong hands of a man. His sweet masculine scent filled my nostrils, and he warmed me with his body heat.

I was being kidnapped, I thought, but his touch was gentle for a kidnapper. He was loading me into a car and putting me in the driver's seat.

"Are you okay?" asked the sweetest voice I'd ever heard.

"Where am I?" I tried to move, but he gently restrained me.

"Sit back and relax. Don't be afraid. "I'm not a bad person at all," he said with a smile.

I widened my eyes and saw the most beautiful man I'd ever seen. His dark gray eyes were breathtaking. His hair was styled in a way that complemented his boyish features. His lips were the most enticing male lips I'd ever seen. And he was staring at me. I quickly turned away.

"Sit back and relax; I'll be right back."

He went into the trunk and came back with a box. This is a first-aid kit.

I noticed that he seemed ready for anything.

After opening the kit, he took something from it.

"Let me see your face," he said as he gently stroked my chin. It made me jerk slightly.

"I'm sorry, but you have a small cut on your forehead that is bleeding slightly," he explained as he applied some medicine to my brow. I then noticed he was wearing a white suit.

I told myself he was a doctor, and his mastery of his hands confirmed it. He moved swiftly but gently.

"This will hurt, but you'll get through it," he added. I could feel his soft hands caressing my skin. Every time he exhaled, his fresh breath touched my face, and it elicited a reaction in me. This was the closest I'd ever gotten to a man.

It was difficult to grow up without a father. I avoided boys during my high school years. And this is how I ended up with the moniker Lesbian Cat. I detested boys just as much as I detested my biological father. And I promised myself that I would never let a man ruin my life the way my father did my mother's.

"It's finished," the man said with a friendly smile. "Can you move your head? Would you like me to help you get into a comfortable position? "

"No, thank you," I said, raising my buttocks. "I can manage."

I tried to stand up, ignoring the pain in my right leg and head. But he came to a halt on my shoulder and pushed me up a little. Then he adjusted the front passenger seat for me. I was uneasy because he was so close.

He was comforting and said, "Don't be afraid," he smiled, sensing my anxiety, "I'm not a bad person; I was driving home when I noticed you passed out in the middle of the road."

I was trying so hard to focus on what he was saying because he was so attractive and his pleasant scent filled the air in the car.

He confirmed, "I'm Dr. Rafael Morrow, and I'm glad I saw you before anyone else did."

I was appalled at watching him. I was saved by a Morrow.