My Husband’s Student Surrogate Chapter 1

I’ve been an OB-GYN for ten years. I’ve delivered thousands of babies, and finally, I was pregnant with my own.

On our anniversary, I’d planned to leave the hospital early to celebrate with my husband. But a last-minute emergency surgery landed on my schedule.

The patient was young—barely twenty, a college student who’d taken a leave of absence to have this baby. She wasn't due for another few weeks, but her water had broken prematurely, and the umbilical cord was wrapped around the infant’s neck. We had to go straight to a C-section.

"Dr. Brooks, I’m scared," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I had a nightmare last night. I dreamed that after the baby was born, you stuffed her back inside me... that you let her suffocate."

I gave her a small, professional smile to calm her nerves. "I’m not that's not how this works. Don’t be nervous. I promise I’ll get both you and your baby through this safely."

The delivery went perfectly. It was a girl, with a cry so loud it filled the entire OR.

I placed the baby on her chest for skin-to-skin contact. The girl pressed her cheek against the infant’s, her eyes damp as she whispered her thanks to me. The nurses hurried out to give the family the good news, and I stepped aside with the baby for a moment, waiting for the final sutures.

The girl suddenly spoke, a weak but provocative smile flitting across her lips.

"Ma’am... the baby looks just like Professor Miller, doesn't she?"

...

* * *

My head spun. The blood in my veins seemed to turn to ice instantly.

Then, Christopher Miller walked into the OR, still in his surgical scrubs.

The girl immediately began to sob piteously. "Chris... why are you just getting here?" she wailed. "I don’t want anyone else touching me. I was so scared. Dr. Brooks was so mean to me."

Christopher rushed to her side, his voice a low, soothing murmur that felt like a serrated blade to my heart. "It’s okay, honey. Don’t cry. I’m here now. No one is going to hurt you."

Then, he turned a cold, dismissive gaze toward me. "I’ll handle the closing. Take the baby and get out. She’s young; I need to make sure the scarring is minimal."

I don’t know how I made it out of that room.

The weight of my colleagues' shocked, gossiping stares felt like needles in my back. Their whispers were low, but in the sterile silence of the hallway, they hit me with perfect clarity.

"What does that mean? Is that girl’s baby Dr. Brooks' husband's? Did Natalie know?"

"They’ve been together since high school. They’re the 'it' couple. There’s no way."

"Please. You never know what goes on behind closed doors. Maybe it’s some twisted arrangement. Maybe she’s in on it."

...

I stripped off my scrubs, my skin drenched in a cold, sickly sweat. Sophie, one of my residents, helped me back to the breakroom.

"Dr. Brooks..." She started to speak, but she didn't know what to say. Eventually, she just started crying out of sheer indignation on my behalf.

I managed a hollow laugh and told her to go back to work. I needed to be alone.

I sat there, my hand trembling as I touched my still-flat stomach. The tears finally broke. Just a week ago, when I saw the positive test, I had wept with joy. I had been waiting for tonight—our anniversary—to give him the surprise.

But I was the one who got the surprise first.

Months ago, I’d found a scrap of paper in his pocket with a list of names. I had assumed, naturally, that they were for our future child. I’d even teased him about it: “I thought you said we were letting nature take its course? You’re clearly dying to be a dad. I think 'Everly' is the prettiest one on the list.”

During the surgery, when I heard the girl whisper that name, I had told myself it was just a coincidence.

The door pushed open. Christopher walked in, his face shadowed and grim. The silence stretched between us until he finally spoke.

"I’m sorry, Natalie. I didn't know how to tell you. I didn't want to break your heart."

"Brianna is an orphan," he continued, his voice devoid of the warmth he’d just shown her. "She was abandoned at birth. She couldn't bring herself to terminate the pregnancy, and I couldn't force her to."

"Moving forward, I’ll have to split my time between you and them. But you’re my wife. You’ll always be my priority. That will never change."

I let out a jagged, hysterical laugh. My teeth were chattering. "When... when did it start? Why?"

He looked out the window, his tone light, almost nostalgic. "Almost two years ago. Being with her is just... easy. It’s fun. I couldn't help myself. She made me feel that rush again—the racing heart, the heat in my blood."

"Natalie, we’ve been together for twenty years. That’s a very long time."

He didn't finish the sentence, but he didn't have to. Because it had been so long, the fire had gone out. But for me, the time had been even longer than that.