When my ex-husband, Daniel, called me out of the blue, I expected a typical conversation—maybe an awkward apology for the way our marriage ended or a casual check-in out of guilt. What I didn’t expect was the insane request he made.
“Emma,” he said hesitantly, “I know this is a lot to ask, but… would you consider being a surrogate for me and Julia?”
I nearly dropped my phone. Julia—his new wife. The same woman he cheated on me with while we were still married. The same woman who had once laughed in my face, calling me “bitter and barren” because Daniel and I had struggled to conceive. And now, after discovering that she was the one who couldn’t have children, they were turning to me?
“Are you serious?” I asked, unable to hide my disgust.
Daniel sighed. “Look, I know our past is complicated, but you always wanted a child. This could be… mutually beneficial.”
Mutually beneficial? He had no idea how much I had wanted a child with him—how much I had cried over every failed attempt. And now he wanted me to carry her baby?
I could have told him off, but instead, I smiled to myself. “Let me think about it,” I said sweetly.
A week later, I agreed—but with conditions. “I want to do it my way. No agencies. No lawyers. Just trust,” I told them. They were so desperate, they agreed immediately.
But I had a plan.
I went through the motions—the medical appointments, the procedures—but instead of using Julia’s embryo, I made a different choice. A choice that would turn their world upside down.
Months passed, and as my belly grew, Julia and Daniel treated me like their prized possession. They pampered me, doted on me, and even started calling me “their angel.”
But the real twist came the day the baby was born.
As Julia eagerly reached for the newborn, the doctor hesitated. Then, after a few exchanged glances, Daniel was called aside for a private conversation.
Minutes later, he stormed into the room, his face drained of color. “What the hell did you do?” he hissed.
I smiled weakly from the hospital bed. “Oh, Daniel… didn’t I mention? It’s not Julia’s baby. It’s yours—and mine.”
Julia gasped in horror. “What?! That’s impossible!”
I shrugged. “Turns out, Daniel and I could have had a baby together. Funny, huh?”
Julia broke down in tears. Daniel was speechless. And me? I had just taken back the one thing they had stolen from me—my chance at motherhood.
I signed the birth certificate, took my baby in my arms, and walked out of the hospital—leaving Daniel and Julia to pick up the shattered pieces of their perfect little plan.
And it definitely didn’t end as they expected.
