My Five-Year Relationship Made Me a Surrogate

After five years of dating, I find myself pregnant before marriage. On the day my child turns one month old, my boyfriend brings a group of friends over. He tells them, "Aren't you curious what it's like to sleep with a woman who just gave birth? She is all yours." I lie weakly on the bed. My baby has just been taken away from me. They line up to violate me. I feel countless hands touching my body, and I notice they are recording videos. Confused and hurt, I ask him why he is allowing this. He simply says, "You're just a surrogate for my child." *** I couldn't remember how that night unfolded. All I recalled was that by the time the last man got off me, I felt utterly degraded. Leo stood by the edge of the bed, looking down at me. "Remember that shameless look on your face today. Don't dream about things that aren't yours." After that, they all walked away, taking the child with them and leaving me alone. But Leo, what was I really dreaming about? A week had passed, yet the men's crude laughter and vulgar words lingered in my mind. In the shower, I scrubbed myself desperately, trying to wash away the shame and prove I was still clean, but nothing could bring me back to how I used to be. I didn't dare go outside, terrified of being pointed at and labeled a loose woman. I wrapped myself tightly in a blanket, huddled in the corner, surviving on leftover food from the fridge. Every small noise outside made me tremble. I feared those men would return. I still didn't understand what I had done to deserve such treatment from him. I told myself repeatedly that it wasn't my fault. I thought Leo would never come back, but on the seventh day, he returned. I had been dozing off, my mind fuzzy, when the sound of the door jolted me awake. I looked up and saw Leo standing there. For days, I had convinced myself it was just a nightmare, but the moment he walked in, all my efforts felt futile. Memories of that terrible night swelled within me, crashing over me like a wave and making it hard to breathe. Yet, he acted as if nothing had happened, showing me the same gentle concern as always. "Shirley, why are you sitting on the floor? Get up." I watched him, wary of his seemingly hypocritical expression, until he drew closer. My body trembled uncontrollably, releasing the pent-up suffering of the past week. I screamed frantically, waving my hands to push him away. "Get out! Don't come near me!" But I couldn't fight the strength of men. He pulled me into his arms and whispered, "Shirley, it's all over now. I won't look down on you. Don't dwell on it anymore, okay?" His touch churned my stomach. I fought against the nausea and questioned him, "What about the child? Where did you take the child?" "Stop asking about the child. Aren't we still okay like before?" he retorted. "What do you mean I shouldn't ask? Leo, that's my child!" I struggled in his grip, hitting his back with my hands, but he remained unmoved, his gaze cold. "Shirley, I've kept you for so many years. This is what you owe me." His words made me want to laugh, but as I did, tears streamed down my face. All those years of shared moments had merely been my wishful thinking. To him, I was just a mistress, no wonder he could easily hand me off to someone else. And what about me? Leo, what did I even mean to you? What had these five years been worth?