The Surrogate He Discarded

That night, Isobel stepped into the nursery with a heavy heart.

The rest of her day had been uneventful, but her first day at work had left a bitter taste in her mouth. The excitement and anticipation she had felt that morning were long gone, replaced by exhaustion and disappointment.

Yet the moment she saw Kirsten’s adorable smile, the weight on her chest seemed to lighten.

Baby Kat blinked her bright eyes open and immediately fixed her gaze on Isobel.

”Aguu... goo-goo...”

The little girl let out a series of bubbly gurgles.

A laugh escaped Isobel’s lips.

”Ella, look! Kat is smiling at me.” Her eyes sparkled with excitement. ”And she’s making sounds. She’s talking to me.”

Ella, who stood beside the rocking chair, smiled as she watched the interaction between the two.

Then, without warning, Isobel’s thoughts drifted to her son. The smile on her face slowly faded.

Did her baby make sounds like this, too?

Did he smile whenever someone talked to him?

A familiar ache settled in her chest.

The Daltons were wealthy beyond imagination, and they had waited years for that child. Baby Alex was undoubtedly receiving the best care money could buy.

He was safe. He was loved. At least, that was what she kept telling herself.

When she had sneaked near Room 301, she had overheard the nanny speaking to the baby.

”Alexander, don’t fuss.”

A moment later, the woman had chuckled.

”There, there, Alex.”

That was how she learned his name.

Alexander.

The memory stirred something deep inside her.

Suddenly, she was transported back to a quiet evening months ago.

She was seven months pregnant then.

Her feet were swollen, and painful cramps kept shooting through her legs.

Kristoff had guided her to a recliner and knelt beside her. Without a word of complaint, he gently massaged her aching feet.

The memory was so vivid that she could almost feel his warm hands again.

Out of nowhere, she had asked,

”Kristoff, what would you name the baby?”

Her hands rested on her rounded belly as if protecting the unborn child inside.

He glanced up briefly before pressing his thumb into a sore spot beneath her toes.

Isobel moaned.

”What about you? What name do you like?” He asked her instead.

Then she answered, her eyes dreamy.

”Alexander.”

The name had come so naturally to her.

”I like Alexander. It sounds nice.”

Kristoff had merely hummed. There was neither agreement nor disagreement.

Just that low, thoughtful hum.

At the time, she had spent hours browsing baby names, yet none had felt as right as Alexander.

She never imagined that Kristoff indeed named their son Alexander.

Her fingers tightened around the edge of the rocking chair.

Perhaps it was only a coincidence.

After all, Alexander wasn’t an uncommon name.

But for some reason, the thought refused to leave her mind.

And the ache in her heart only grew heavier.

But quickly, she pushed the thoughts and the negative feelings aside. She handed Kat back to Ella before taking Kit from Anna for his feeding.

She had just finished nursing him when the nursery door opened.

Morgan walked in.

He looked exhausted.

The dark circles beneath his eyes seemed more pronounced than usual, and the strain in his expression was impossible to miss.

”Boss,” she greeted cautiously.

A faint smile touched his lips.

”At home, it’s Morgan.”

”You look tired,” she said softly. ”Did you come from the hospital?”

Morgan hummed in response as he walked toward Kirsten’s crib.

The baby was sleeping peacefully.

Isobel hesitated.

After gathering enough courage, she spoke.

”Why not bring Madam Kristine home?” she suggested gently. ”Maybe hearing the twins’ voices... or simply being close to them... might help stimulate her to wake up.”

Morgan fell silent.

It was, after all, exactly what the doctors had been recommending.

After a moment, he nodded.

”You’re right. I’ll arrange her discharge.”

Then he moved to the other crib where Kit lay awake.

Isobel rose from the rocking chair and stood beside him, keeping a respectful distance.

Kit wasn’t sleepy yet. His tiny eyes were fixed on his father’s face.

Suddenly, the little boy broke into a smile.

”Eeeee... goo-goo...”

Morgan visibly froze. For a second, pure surprise flickered across his features.

Then he bent down and carefully lifted his son into his arms.

”Ah, my little boy,” he said, laughing softly. ”Are you saying hello to Daddy?”

It was the first time Isobel had heard him laugh so freely. But maybe, with his wife Kristine, he had laughed like that too.

The sound startled her.

For a brief moment, Morgan looked less like the powerful CEO everyone feared and more like an ordinary father completely enchanted by his child.

A sharp pang struck her chest.

Did Kristoff hold their son like that too?

Did he smile whenever their baby smiled at him?

The thought hurt more than she wanted to admit.

Soon, Kit drifted off to sleep in his father’s arms.

Morgan carefully returned him to the crib, every movement gentle and deliberate, as though he feared even the slightest disturbance might wake him.

Then he walked toward Kirsten’s crib, where Isobel was standing.

”The Daltons are introducing their heir on Saturday,” he said, lowering his gaze to meet hers beneath his thick lashes. ”They invited me and the twins.”

He paused.

”Come with us.”

Isobel froze.

The Daltons.

Her heartbeat skipped. Wasn’t that Kristoff’s family?

And the heir they were introducing...wasn’t that the child she bore for Kristoff?

A rush of emotions crashed through her all at once.

Fear. Longing. Heartache.

She had spent months trying to forget Kristoff. Trying to bury the memories and convince herself that the Chapter of her life had ended.

The last thing she wanted was to stand before him again. To see him and hear his voice.

To remember everything she had lost.

Yet another part of her, a part she could never silence, yearned for the invitation.

Because Alexander would be there. Her baby.

Even if she could not hold him,

even if she could not call him her son,

even if she had to watch from afar like a stranger...

At least she would be able to see him.

Even if just once.

The thought alone made her chest tighten.

Without realizing it, her fingers curled into her palms.

She told herself she should refuse.

But deep down, she already knew she wouldn’t.

”Okay,” Isobel replied after hesitating. ”So that’s tomorrow night.”

”Yes.”

Morgan nodded.

”Cindy will arrange your dress.”

His gaze lingered on his daughter for a few seconds longer.

Then he straightened.

”I still have some things to take care of.”

His voice softened.

”Get some rest.”

Without waiting for a reply, he turned and left the nursery.

The room fell silent once more.

Isobel looked down at the sleeping baby.

Then her thoughts wandered, as they always did, to the little boy that she never had a chance to see or hold.

Somewhere out there, her son was sleeping too.

And she wondered if anyone was holding him as lovingly as Morgan had just held Kit.