Chapter 4
That night, I didn’t go near the master bedroom.
Instead, I quietly carried my suitcase to the guest room— the one forgotten and abandoned, tucked away in a corner like I had been. It was silent, untouched by time, just like
- me.
I lay awake in the darkness, the ticking of the clock a reminder that sleep had become a foreign concept. The stillness seemed to grow heavier with each passing minute.
I finally got up, hoping a glass of water might ease the dull ache in my stomach, but as I stepped out, I froze. Through the door of the master bedroom, I heard Madeline’s voice, thick with emotion.
“I should be the one attending Lucas’s wedding,” she said. “I’m his mother.”
A cold wave of stillness washed over me.
Her words pierced through the walls and into my chest, sharp and brutal.
“If you hadn’t said you didn’t want children, I would’ve never had to implant our embryo into Elise. But now… it’s too late.”
Ryan’s voice followed, low and heavy with the weight of some supposed sacrifice.
“Don’t worry. Even if we can’t tell the world who you really are, at Lucas’s wedding, you’ll be seated at the head table. They’ll introduce you as his mother. You deserve that.”
Madeline’s sobs softened, her anxiety briefly appeased by
1/5
his empty promises. But then, a shift in her voice–more uncertain, more vulnerable.
“But what if Elise really goes through with it? What if she actually leaves?”
Ryan laughed dismissively, almost with pity. “She won’t. Elise has been dependent on me for forty years. She has no job, no skills–where would she even go?”
His words stung, but he wasn’t finished. “You’re not like her.” he sneered. “You’ve got talent, Maddie. You could land a job anywhere. But Elise? She’s good for nothing but mopping floors and washing dishes.”
Their laughter rang out, cruel and hollow, echoing through the walls like rot creeping into old wood.
I couldn’t move. I couldn’t breathe.
So this was the truth.
I wasn’t a wife. I wasn’t a mother. I was nothing more than a maid, a vessel to carry their burdens. A surrogate, nothing more. All because Madeline hadn’t wanted to carry her own child.
I had carried him. I had given birth to him. I raised him. And now they were passing him back to her like he was always hers to claim.
I swallowed every tear, cradled the pain deep inside, and stumbled back into the guest room.
Three days later, Ryan and Madeline emerged from the master bedroom, dressed to perfection. Ryan wore a charcoal–gray suit, a matching tie, his posture rigid and polished. Madeline, always immaculate, glided out in navy silk, her beauty curated like a piece of art. Together, they looked like they had just stepped out of a magazine spread.
2/5
They stopped in their tracks when they saw me sitting in the living room, motionless.
Madeline flashed a smug, victorious smile. “Elise, don’t be upset,” she said with a sickening sweetness. “I know the bride called me ‘Mom‘ today, but that’s just a formality. She’ll call you that from now on. I’m just helping you take on some responsibility for the time being.”
Ryan, however, didn’t share her self–satisfaction. His eyes swept over me, his brow furrowing in disapproval.
“If you hadn’t let yourself go, Lucas wouldn’t have asked Maddie to step in for you. You should be thanking her, not sulking.”
His tone was condescending, like I was a child throwing a tantrum, an inconvenience he had to manage.
He continued, almost like a veiled threat, “Clara’s moving in tomorrow. Clean this place up, will you? If you can manage to act like a proper housekeeper today, maybe I’ll reconsider the divorce.”
I forced a smile and nodded, but inside, it didn’t matter. The house was being sold; the new owner would be here any minute. Whatever I did today wasn’t for them. It wasn’t for Ryan. It wasn’t for Madeline.
Ryan’s expression darkened with suspicion when I agreed so readily. Something flickered in his eyes, a moment of doubt. He opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by Madeline tugging at his sleeve.
“Come on,” she urged, “We’ll be late.”
Ryan hesitated for a fraction of a second before following her out.
3/5
As soon as they left, I pulled my suitcase from behind the couch. I was just about to wheel it out when Lucas burst through the door, nearly knocking me over.
He stopped short, his gaze landing on the suitcase.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he groaned, rubbing his temples in frustration. “Mom, can we not do this today? I’ve been running around nonstop, and now you’re pulling this again?”
His eyes scanned the room, filled with irritation. “This place is a mess. Couldn’t you at least clean it up?”
I didn’t answer. I walked past him without a word.
He reached out and blocked my path.
“Where are you going?”
I stopped and met his gaze squarely. “Where I go isn’t your concern. I’m not your mother anymore, am I?”
His eyes widened, disbelief flashing across his face. “What are you talking about?”
Before I could respond, his phone rang. He grabbed it quickly, still glaring at me.
“I don’t have time for this right now,” he snapped into the receiver, his voice sharp. Then, he turned back to me, hissing, “If you can’t help, at least don’t make things worse. Dad and I are already swamped with the wedding. But if you’re leaving–don’t bother coming back.”
He thought his words would hurt me. He thought they’d make me feel small, weak.
But what they didn’t know was that I had already planned everything.
4/5
I didn’t look back as I walked toward the door.
The house wasn’t his, not really. It had never been Ryan’s property. It was mine. I had sold it, and the money would be transferred directly to my account once I boarded the plane to leave.
As for them? They would come back to find the door locked. Homeless. Without a place to turn.
But none of it mattered anymore.
They weren’t mine anymore. Not Ryan, not Lucas.
Forty years wasted on the unworthy.
No more.
From this moment forward, I would live for myself.
I chose freedom.
