The Mistress Surrogate

I said a word of prayer as I laid a white rose on the now-covered grave. I was hurt, but not as much as the people around me who had had a long-term bond with the deceased, unlike me, who had only known her for a month.

The atmosphere was emotionally draining with all the wailing and tears, and amidst all this turbulence, someone important in this woman's life was missing: her husband.

Among everyone closest to her, he was the one who, I believe, didn't take the news well. The woman was young.

She had the brightest smile—a smile that could light up the darkest room. She welcomed me pleasantly when we initially met, and given my financial situation, I agreed to talk about and consider surrogacy.

I wasn't as wealthy as they were, nor was I initially drawn to the concept, but I needed the cash to support my elderly mother, the last member of my family.

After some time of waiting and respecting her, I followed the others to the little home used to receive the guest. They were quick to recognize me as the surrogate carrying her child.

Although she had a few wrinkles and black circles under her eyes, the woman in her mid-fifties was a clear example of what a wealthy woman should look like. As the others entered the room to express their condolences, I waited for my turn to greet her at the corner.

Without someone to chat with while I waited for my turn, I quickly became disoriented and fell asleep. I had grown weary of looking around Elizabeth's house, which included all of her photographs from childhood through adulthood.

My ear was penetrated by a gentle voice while I was still asleep. Mr. Priscilla, please. Before I opened my eyes to the woman I was waiting to meet, I heard it once again. Despite the fact that her grin might not have been genuine, it was similar to her daughter's.

"My daughter-in-law talked highly of you... Can we have a conversation? It has to do with the child you are carrying right now. She was able to grin once more.

I stood to my feet and replied, "Of course."

She took me to a spot that was a little away from what was happening. Before speaking, she appeared to be trying to hold back some sort of emotion; her voice grew softer and shook more, as though she were about to cry. She made a connection with the fetus inside of me by touching my belly.

"What about relocating here with us? I want to be able to keep an eye on my son's child and make sure you deliver safely. Even though I am aware that you are still in the beginning stages, She bit her lip and clinched her fist with all her strength; a slight arch appeared on her brow. She pleaded, "Please, I will pay more than what you've been given."

You don't see a rich old woman pleading for the safety of her late daughter's child every day.

I wanted to agree, but as she continued raising the price she wanted to pay me—which was more than the sum I was supposed to get—I felt bad because she was doing it to keep her daughter from getting what she wanted.

After considerable persuading from her, I finally responded, "I'll do it, but my mother."

"I heard about her; I promise to see to it that she is safe and secure and that she suffers no harm; in fact, I will personally hire someone to take care of her needs while you are with us." The woman assured me

She never stated that it would be "US."

Slowly, she turned to look at a man who had a sagging shirt, a tie that was only loosely wrapped around his neck, incredibly dirty knees on his pants that seemed like they had been dirty previously, and a sluggish gait.

I followed Elizabeth's mother when she left me behind to see him. The visitors were intrigued by his appearance.

Where have you been lately, Damon? And why are you there? Her nose was concealed as she gave him a whiff. Have you been drinking, Damon? You smell like booze. Before again pinching her nose shut, she inquired.

The question is, "What do you think?" He stumbled and nearly lost his balance. He pressed his index finger into her chest and said, "You are the witch that didn't let her rest, and yet you call yourself my mother. "Are you now happy?" Before pushing her to the side and causing her to tumble to the ground, he questioned He just departed, making no effort to stay and pick her up.

I hurried to her side, but someone reached her before I did, and she brushed her tears away. I made the assumption since I didn't know she was his mother, but regardless of what she had done, it was disrespectful of him to treat his mother that way.

The home guests started to leave the house as quickly as they had arrived because there was no host left, and life went on as usual.

After I assumed she had forgotten, the mother of the child's father called me again a week after our first encounter. She sent someone to take me up and, as she had promised, left a babysitter for my mother.

We traveled to a sizable home with high security; the structure could have passed for a hotel. Before we came to a stop at the house proper, we drove by the side garden, and I gazed in astonishment. Someone was standing by to open the door for me.

I said "thank you" and got out of the car.

Damon's mother was waiting to greet me as I was escorted into the house to view the more opulent décor.

She gave me a bear embrace and kissed my cheeks as she whispered, "Welcome, sweetheart. "Go get Damon; tell him there is someone I like for him to meet," the woman stated, turning to me, who stood next to her. Why don't you have a seat and feel at ease, Miss Priscilla?

Her kindness really moved me, and I felt optimistic about the future.

What could possibly be so crucial that my work had to be interrupted? My eyes worked valiantly to make out the identity of a frigid figure who talked with a drag. He descended the steps gradually and out of the light.

"Come on in," son..." Damon's mother shoved her arm away, and she smiled at me. "Damon, this is Priscilla; she is carrying your child."