Chapter 3
1109 Words
Lucía
The private clinic where the procedure would take place was unlike anything I had ever set foot in: silent hallways, white lights that never flickered, polished floors reflecting every step like a merciless mirror. It was the kind of place where no one died for lack of resources. Where life had value because someone could afford to pay for it.
Claudia arrived first, her flawless makeup contrasting with her swollen eyes, as though sleepless nights had marked her despite everything.
“Lucía,” she said with a soft, almost maternal smile. “Today is important. Are you feeling okay?”
I nodded, though I wasn’t. A weight in my stomach clamped down like a claw, keeping me from breathing deeply. But I couldn’t hesitate now; not after stealing that form and turning it into my lifeline.
Adrián appeared behind her, wearing a dark suit and an unreadable expression, an aura that made everyone step aside.
“Let’s do this quickly,” he said without unnecessary greetings. “The less margin for error, the better.”
It wasn’t pure coldness; it was fear wrapped in control, as if admitting it would make it real.
The doctor guided us into a small, sterilized room, impersonal to the extreme. She explained protocols, risks, statistics, her voice monotone, but I barely registered the words. My mind kept returning to Mom: her ragged breathing, her body convulsing that dawn when the crisis nearly claimed her. That image played over and over like a painful echo, justifying every step I took.
Claudia held my hand as I lay on the examination table, the paper crinkling beneath me.
“Breathe deeply. We’re with you,” she whispered, her warm palm against my cold one.
Adrián remained standing, rigid, scrutinizing each of the doctor’s movements as if supervising a high-risk operation.
The procedure was quick, cold, precise: a sharp sting, an invasive fluid, and then nothing but the hum of the machines. When it was over, they helped me sit up, the world tilting slightly.
“Now we wait,” the doctor said with a professional smile.
Claudia smiled with a mix of hope and restrained terror. Adrián only nodded, but his tense jaw looked ready to c***k.
**
The following weeks became a suffocating routine: work at the office under uneasy stares, medical appointments stealing my afternoons, forced rest that never eased the exhaustion. Claudia wrote to me every day, her messages an unexpected balm.
How did you wake up? Do you need anything?
Did you eat well? I’ll bring you the vitamins if needed.
Adrián, on the other hand, was punctual and dry:
Appointment at seven. Don’t be late.
Check your blood pressure. I’ll be there in ten.
Never an emoji. Never an extra word.
The first blood test came back positive. Claudia cried over the phone, her voice breaking with emotion.
“Lucía, my God, thank you! We did it… finally…”
Adrián only said:
“Good. We’ll arrange the weekly checkups.”
But when the doctor called for the ultrasound, her tone was unusual, loaded with something unspoken.
“I need all three of you to come. Today.”
The office was filled with an oppressive silence. The doctor applied the cold gel to my abdomen—a shiver running down my spine—and moved the transducer. The screen came to life.
A faint heartbeat.
Another.
And a third.
Three blinking points, three synchronized rhythms.
“They’re…” Claudia covered her mouth with one hand, her eyes flooding. “Are they…?”
“Triplets,” the doctor confirmed, her voice neutral. “Three embryos successfully implanted. Rare, but possible in these procedures.”
The air thickened, as if the room had shrunk.
Claudia burst into tears, unrestrained.
“Adrián… they’re three! Three lives… three babies!”
He didn’t speak right away. He clenched his fists, the shock visible on his pale face. When he finally opened his mouth, his voice was hoarse, almost unrecognizable.
“Thank you, Lucía.”
It was the first time he had said it truly, without filters. And it sounded genuine, vulnerable.
I didn’t know what to feel: a fleeting pride, rising panic, a vertigo that tightened my hands. Being a surrogate was already a crushing weight. Being one for three… that turned my body into a minefield, where three lives grew without asking permission.
**
That day, leaving the clinic, I detoured to the hospital to see Mom. She was sitting up in bed, weak but stable, out of immediate danger.
“You look tired,” she said, extending a fragile hand. “Come, sit.”
I clenched my teeth. I couldn’t keep hiding it. My body was beginning to change: a subtle swelling, a fatigue that wouldn’t leave. Three lives make more noise than one.
“Mom… I have to tell you something.”
She smiled, her eyes lighting faintly.
“Whatever it is, sweetheart, tell me.”
I took a deep breath, the air burning my lungs.
“I’m pregnant.”
Her face lit up in a way I hadn’t seen in months, a spark of life returning.
“What? Lucía, my girl…!” She covered her mouth with trembling hands. “I can’t believe it. I’m going to be a grandmother…”
The knot in my throat tightened painfully.
“Mom… they’re not mine. It’s a surrogate pregnancy. For my boss and his wife. It’s… part of the agreement.”
Her smile extinguished like a candle blown out by the wind.
“Oh…” she whispered, processing. “I see.”
“I did it for you,” I added quickly, my voice trembling. “To pay for the surgery. To not lose you.”
She closed her eyes, a tear sliding down her pale cheek. But when she spoke, her voice was firm, full of love.
“I’m proud of you. Not for the sacrifice… but for your courage.”
She cupped my face in her cold hands, forcing me to look at her.
“But promise me something: don’t forget that your life matters too.”
I didn’t know what to say. I had three lives beating inside me and one clinging from the outside, depending on my decisions.
“I promise,” I lied, the words bitter on my tongue.
**
That night, walking home under a cloudy sky, I understood that nothing would ever be the same. The Valcourts had regained their hope. My mother, her health—at least for now.
And I… had lost any trace of the Lucía I once was. Three heartbeats accompanied me, a constant reminder.
Three intertwined destinies.
Three reasons not to fail.
- Writer
