The Married Billionaire's Surrogate An African American Pregnancy Romance For Adults(4)

“Alicia, this has become a habit of yours, hasn’t it?” Steven Wyatt asked her and chuckled.

“I am sorry, sir. After yesterday…”

“Forget yesterday. I told you that I’ll solve this drama happening inside my house. Tell me, how are you?” Steven’s voice was soft and she saw that he was wearing a dark blue tuxedo, a black tie and black shoes.

“F-f-fine, sir. Still can’t believe that what happened yesterday is real. I’ve never seen that necklace,” she repeated for the hundredth time and looked into his eyes. There was only kindness and trust in them, so she could feel her shoulders slump in relaxation. At better thought, Mr. Wyatt was the only one that supported her from the moment she entered those cold walls of the mansion.

The doorbell interrupted the moment of silence and she rushed toward the door excusing herself. She slowly opened it and her pupils spread in gladness at the sight of a familiar face.

“Christina!” Alicia exclaimed in pure joy and hugged her childhood best friend tightly. “What are you doing here?” Her voice was muffled in her friend’s bushy hair.

“Alicia, something happened,” Christina Rawlins said.

“What?” Alicia broke the hug and looked into the sadness written across Christina’s face. She wasn’t prepared for another shot from destiny’s gun. Oh, God, no more. The event with the necklace was already too much for her and now something else was coming up to test her. “Please tell me! Is it your family?”

“No, Ally. Your mom… I’m so terribly sorry I have to be the one to tell you this,” she said in a grave voice.

“No!” Alicia panicked and she felt her whole body trembling. Her heart was jumping in her chest and climbed into her throat.

“Your mom had a stroke. I’m afraid it’s serious. You have to come to the hospital now.”

“H-how? No! This could not be!” Alicia shouted and fell on her knees. Her body completely gave in and she could no longer muster any strength to keep the tears stuck in her throat. They freed themselves and eventually poured from her eyes as she drowned her pain in a loud weep. Christina’s hands around her were the only thing keeping her from falling apart.





Chapter 2


The hospital walls seemed so hostile to Alicia that morning and at times she even thought that she couldn’t breathe. Walking side by side with Christina, who was tightly gripping her forearm, Alicia felt like a sponge with too much water absorbed. If someone came to tell her anything more she thought she would burst. And who could blame her after the whirl of unpleasant situations in the Wyatt mansion and the terrible news concerning the woman whom she owed her life.

She didn’t hear when Christina asked the nurse behind the counter about the room number as she held the counter with all her force to prevent from fainting, her mind full of prayers. Like in a delirium, doctors and nurses ran around her, shouting names and diagnosis, hurrying here and there, entering and closing doors while people in wheelchairs and bandages roamed the corridors desperately asking for assistance.

Before entering the elevator she spotted two women crying before a glass window, desperation written in the deep lines of their faces and their lips moving, in what she guessed was a prayer. What if she became like them? What kind of news awaited her? Another thought came to her mind about how terribly awful destinies the hospital held inside its walls when Christina led her to room number 156. A number she would remember her whole life, Alicia was certain of it.

“C’mon,” Christina gently encouraged her.

“I can’t, Chris. What if… What if,” Alicia started stuttering and couldn’t chase away the rest of the sentence out of her mouth.

“There’re no what-ifs anymore. Your mom needs you right now more than she ever did,” she whispered in her best friend’s ear and the both of them laid their shaky hands on the knob and turned it.

White light blinded Alicia and for a moment she couldn’t blink it away. She saw some movement next to the bed and was greeted by a short, chubby man wearing a long white coat and black-rimmed spectacles. The name ‘Dr. Mullins’ was written on his ID card.

“How is she?” Christina spoke from behind her as Alicia at once hurried to her mother’s side.

At first glance she couldn’t say that was the woman who raised her. Her brown face was sunken with worry and age and there were large tubes hanging from her nose. Although her lungs were moving from beneath the blanket and the numbers on the screen next to the bed indicated the existence of a pulse, Alicia found herself not believing it.

“She’s stable for now. Keeping in mind that this is her first heart stroke and let’s hope the last, she will do just fine. No need for worries, madam. Mrs. Balfe will turn out stronger and much better from this accident. My team and I will closely monitor her health during the next few days and then we’ll let her get home,” Dr. Mullins replied and with a nod to the both of them left the room.

“See, Al? That’s good news.” Christina came closer to Alicia and fondled her shoulders. “I will let you be with your mom now. If you need anything, I’ll be waiting outside.”

Once alone with the beats of her mother’s slow heart and her sleeping body, Alicia finally released all the pain from her heart and sobbed on her mother’s chest. Crying with the scent of medicines filling her nostrils, Alicia cursed her life, her youth, her work and herself. She cursed her poverty, inability to find a better hospital for her mother or more importantly a bigger house, better food and conditions to extend her lifespan.