The Billionaire’s Secret Twins

Grace's POV "How much time does my father have if he doesn't get the surgery?" I ask, trying to keep my voice steady while Dr. Harris looks down at the results in front of him. "I don’t recommend waiting, Grace. We need to operate as soon as we can arrange it." Dr. Harris replies. I have spent three years working in this hospital, comforting families while they wait for news, but now that it is my father lying upstairs, I cannot seem to think beyond the amount printed on the estimate. Even if I empty my savings and sell our car, I will still be short, and my next salary is already needed for rent and the bills we have fallen behind on. "Can the hospital accept monthly payments? You can deduct them from my salary, and I’ll take extra shifts whenever you need someone." I say. "You’ll need to discuss that with the accounts department. I can explain the urgency to them, but I can’t approve a payment arrangement myself." Dr. Harris replies. I thank him and leave before he can see how close I am to crying, because I still have to face Dad, and he will know something is wrong the moment he sees me. He is watching the doorway when I enter his room, and I barely sit down before he asks what the doctor said. "You need surgery, but he believes he can help you," I tell him. "Can we afford it?" Dad asks. "I’m working on it," I reply. "Grace, you’re already paying most of the bills. If this means taking out another loan, we need to talk about it first." He says. I take his hand, unable to bear how worried he sounds about money when he should be thinking about getting better. "Let me speak to a few people before we decide anything. Please, Dad, I need you to give me a chance to sort this out." I say. He reluctantly agrees, but by the following afternoon, every person I have approached has turned me down or offered less than I need. When Rachel finds me outside his room, I am trying to convince a lender that my regular salary should count for more than the debts already against my name. The call ends before I finish explaining. "Was that another rejection?" Rachel asks. I nod and put my phone away, embarrassed even though she already knows how desperate things have become. "They say I can’t afford the repayments. Apparently, being willing to work myself into the ground doesn’t count for much." I say. "Come with me. There’s something I want to discuss with you." Rachel replies. I follow her into her office, hoping she has found a payment scheme I missed, but she closes the door and sits beside me rather than behind her desk. "One of my private patients wants to have a child through a surrogate, and he’s willing to pay enough to cover your father’s surgery," Rachel says. I stare at her, wondering whether I have misunderstood. "You want me to have a baby for someone?" I ask. "I want you to consider it. I wouldn’t have brought it up if I didn’t know how badly you need the money." Rachel replies. "Who is he?" I ask. "Grace, he is a very influential businessman, and he wants to keep his identity private for now." She says. I nod. I can understand why a man wealthy enough to pay such a large amount of money to have a child might want to keep his private life out of the public eye. Perhaps his wife cannot have a baby, or maybe they have decided that surrogacy is the best option for their family. I have seen enough wealthy patients in this hospital to know that money does not make every part of life easy, although I cannot imagine what would make someone willing to pay so much for a child. "Why does he need a surrogate?" I ask. "I don’t know, and he isn’t someone I can question about his private life. He asked me to find a surrogate, and I thought of you," Rachel replies. "And what happens to me after I give him the baby?" I ask. Rachel hesitates, and that small pause frightens me more than anything she has said. "You receive the rest of the money and go home. He raises the child." She answers. I look towards the door, thinking about my father waiting for me upstairs, and try to imagine carrying a baby for nine months before handing that child to a man I have never met. "Does he want to meet me first?" I ask. "No. He wants me to handle everything for him." Rachel replies. "Then how am I supposed to know what kind of father he’ll be?" I ask. "I’ve known him for several years, Grace. He is a successful businessman with a reputation to protect, but more importantly, I wouldn’t bring this to you if I thought he would mistreat the baby." Rachel replies. I want to believe her, but I cannot stop wondering whether he will love the child or leave it with a nanny while he spends his days in boardrooms and business meetings. "How much is he offering?" I ask. She writes the amount on a piece of paper and passes it to me, and I read it twice before looking at her. "This would pay for everything." "Your father’s surgery, his recovery, and some breathing room afterwards. His treatment can be paid for before the pregnancy begins." Rachel replies. For the first time since Dad was admitted, I have a way to help him, but I do not know whether I can carry a baby and then give it away. "I need tonight to think," I say. "Take tonight. We can talk again tomorrow." Rachel replies. When I return to Dad’s room, he tells me he has asked a friend about selling his tools, and I have to turn away before he sees my face. Those tools are all he has left of the work he once loved, and he still believes they will be useful when he gets better. "Don’t sell anything yet. Rachel might have found a way to help us." I tell him. "What way?" Dad asks. "I need to find out more first," I reply. He accepts that because he trusts me, which makes it harder to keep the truth from him. That night, I lie awake wondering whether I am capable of giving birth and walking away, but whenever I decide I cannot do it, I think about losing Dad when there is something I could do to save him. By morning, I know what I will do. Rachel listens while I ask about the treatment, the agreement, and when my father can have his operation. She arranges for someone to explain the terms to me, and I read every page, hoping that understanding what I am agreeing to will make me less afraid. "Are you sure?" Rachel asks when I return to her office. "No, but I’m sure I want my father to live," I reply. She reaches for my hand, and I hold hers for a moment before picking up the pen. "Promise me you’ll tell him to be good to the baby." "I will, Grace." Rachel replies. I sign before I lose my courage, then hurry upstairs to tell Dad his surgery can go ahead. He cries when I tell him, pulling me into his arms and thanking me. I hold him carefully, grateful that I have been given a chance to keep him, while trying not to think about the child I have promised to give away. I cannot grow attached to the baby, and I cannot think of the child as mine. Whatever happens over the next nine months, I must remember that I am carrying this baby for someone else, and when the time comes, I will have to let go. I close my eyes and hold my father a little tighter, hoping that one day I will understand how I managed to make such a painful decision, because right now, all I know is that I could not bear to lose him.