“I’m aware.”
“Then why?—”
“Because I want her to feel safe,” I said, my voice flat. “I want her to know that if something goes wrong—if she changes her mind, if the pregnancy becomes too much, if she wakes up one day and realizes she can’t do this—she’s not trapped. She can walk away. No consequences.”
Raymond stared at me.
“This is far more generous than standard,” he said slowly.
“I’m not interested in standard.” I met his eyes. “I’m interested in her feeling safe. If she’s scared, if she feels trapped, if she thinks I’m going to come after her legally or financially—she won’t trust me. And if she doesn’t trust me, this doesn’t work.”
Raymond was quiet for a long moment.
Then he said, “You’re protecting her.”
“I’m protecting my investment.”
“Amai—”
“She’s carrying my child, Raymond.” My voice was steady, measured. “That makes her the most important person in this arrangement. If she’s not safe, if she’s not comfortable, if she’s not taken care of—the pregnancy is at risk. And I don’t take risks with things that matter.”
Raymond raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment. He just made another note on his legal pad and flipped to the next page.
“The confidentiality clause extends to you as well,” he said. “You can’t disclose her identity or the nature of the arrangement to anyone outside of your attorney and personal physician. If you violate that, she can sue for damages.”
“Good.”
“You’re giving her leverage.”
“I’m giving her protection.” I leaned back in my chair. “If I can’t keep her identity safe, I don’t deserve to have her carry my child.”
Raymond studied me for a long moment.
Then he closed the folder and set it on my desk.
“This contract is airtight,” he said. “But it’s also the most one-sided surrogacy agreement I’ve ever written. You’re giving her financial security, medical coverage, physical protection, and a legal exit with no penalties. You’re getting a pregnancy—if it happens—and a child—if it survives. That’s it.”
“That’s enough.”
“Is it?”
I didn’t answer.
Because the truth was, I didn’t know.
I didn’t know if it was enough.
I didn’t know if anything would ever be enough.
But I knew that Truth Renois had walked into my office yesterday and asked me questions that made me tell the truth—about my condition, about my vulnerability, about what I really wanted.
And I’d answered.
Every single one.
So, now I was going to give her a contract that protected her in every way I knew how.
Because that’s what you did when someone was brave enough to carry your legacy.
