The Surrogate He Discarded

Isobel shifted uneasily beneath the unwavering gaze of the middle-aged man standing at the center of the nursery.

Julian wasn’t merely looking at her. He was studying her.

His brows were drawn together, his sharp eyes searching every contour of her face as though trying to retrieve a memory buried decades ago. The intensity of his scrutiny made the hairs on the back of Isobel’s neck stand on end.

Did I do something wrong?

Instinctively, she lowered her eyes before looking back at him with a polite but uncertain smile.

The strange silence did not go unnoticed.

Leanne exchanged a puzzled glance with Judy. Even Kristine caught it, while Morgan’s gaze drifted between his father and Isobel.

Finally, unable to ignore it any longer, Morgan broke the silence.

”Dad...” His voice was calm but curious. ”Do you know Isobel?”

Every pair of eyes turned toward Julian.

Julian remained silent for a long moment before slowly shaking his head.

”No.”

His answer was deliberately loud.

”But...” His eyes never left Isobel’s face. ”She looks... strangely familiar.”

”I know why.”

Judy’s sudden remark drew everyone’s attention. She leaned forward, her eyes bouncing between Isobel and their father.

”It’s her eyes.”

She smiled as realization dawned on her.

”They look exactly like Grandma’s.”

Morgan froze. His heartbeat skipped. Now that Judy had said it, he couldn’t unsee it.

Those eyes... The gentle almond shape. The warmth hidden beneath their quiet sadness.

The way they softened whenever Isobel smiled.

They were astonishingly similar to his grandmother’s.

A forgotten memory suddenly surged to the surface of his mind.

Smoke. Thick... black... suffocating smoke.

He was only a little boy when their mansion caught fire.

The bedroom door refused to open no matter how desperately he pulled at it. Heat scorched his skin while every breath burned his lungs. He coughed violently, tears blurring his vision as panic swallowed him whole.

He thought he was going to die.

Then, the door burst open.

Through the curtain of smoke, one face emerged.

His grandmother.

Her eyes...at first, they were wild with terror as she searched the room.

Then the instant she found him... relief flooded her face.

It was an overwhelming relief.

She rushed toward him, wrapped him in her arms, shielding him from the flames as though her own life meant nothing compared to his.

That pair of loving eyes...

They were the very last thing Morgan remembered before darkness claimed him.

When he finally regained consciousness, he was lying in a hospital bed. Two days had passed.

His parents were beside him, their faces swollen from crying.

That was when they told him the truth. His grandmother had made it out, but she had breathed in too much smoke while saving him.

She passed away the day after the fire.

Morgan’s gaze slowly returned to Isobel.

His chest tightened inexplicably.

For one fleeting moment, it almost felt as though those eyes... the eyes that had been lost forever... were looking back at him once again.

...

Julian, however, barely heard the conversation around him. His thoughts had drifted decades into the past.

It wasn’t only Isobel’s eyes.

The longer he looked at her, the more another face emerged from the depths of his memory.

The shape of her face... The delicate nose...

The quiet grace she carried even while sitting still...

She looked remarkably like a young woman he had once known.

A woman he had met under the strangest of circumstances.

Back then, he had been fleeing from the men who had abducted him.

He remembered running through an unfamiliar forest, branches whipping against his face as desperate footsteps thundered behind him.

Run.

That single instinct was all that drove him.

He never saw the steep embankment until it was too late.

The ground disappeared beneath his feet.

His body tumbled violently down the rocky hillside, stones tearing through his clothes as branches lashed at his skin.

Then—

His head slammed against a jagged boulder.

Everything went black.

...

When he opened his eyes again, sunlight filtered through the cracks of a weathered thatched roof.

The air carried the comforting scent of burning firewood and freshly cooked rice.

He lay on a narrow bamboo bed, his body wrapped in clean linen bandages. Every muscle ached. Even breathing sent pain coursing through his ribs.

A young woman knelt beside him, gently replacing the damp cloth on his forehead.

She wore a simple cream-colored dress that had faded from years of washing. There were no jeweled hairpins, no expensive ornaments, no trace of luxury upon her.

Yet she possessed a beauty that needed none of those things.

Her long dark hair was loosely tied behind her, and despite the plainness of her clothes, there was an unmistakable grace about her.

Julian’s heart gave a subtle jolt.

She looked so beautiful.

”You’ve finally awakened.”

Her voice was soft, carrying a warmth that immediately eased his uneasiness.

He pushed himself upright with difficulty, wincing as pain shot through his body.

”Who... are you?” His voice came out hoarse. ”Where am I?”

The young woman quickly supported his shoulders before he could fall back.

”My brother and I found you unconscious at the foot of the hill,” she explained gently. ”Your body was covered in cuts and bruises. You’ve been unconscious for two days.”

Julian frowned.

Fragments of memories flickered through his mind before dissolving like mist.

He tried to grasp them, but there was nothing.

”My name is...” he began instinctively.

The words caught in his throat. His expression stiffened. An empty void stared back at him. He couldn’t remember even his name.

Not a single thing. Panic surged through his chest.

Who am I? Where did I come from? Why can’t I remember anything?

His fingers instinctively clenched the rough blanket beneath him.

Seeing the confusion on his face, the young woman offered him a reassuring smile.

”You don’t have to force yourself,” she said softly. ”Rest well so you can heal faster.”

Julian swallowed hard before forcing a faint smile of his own.

”I...” He hesitated, grasping for the first name that came to mind. ”You can call me... Albert.”

The lie came easily.

It was better than admitting he didn’t even know who he was.

As the young woman smiled gently at him, he had no idea that meeting her in that humble thatched house would become one of the most unforgettable Chapters of his life.