
He Traded Our Babies for Her Artificial Womb
Chapter 3
After Clayton left, his assistant, Azariah Montgomery, came into my room. She looked at me with a knowing expression and handed me a form for a scheduled procedure.
“I’ve already scheduled the appointment; it’s in two hours,” she said, with a touch of sadness in her eyes.
Every time Clayton asked me to terminate the pregnancy, it was Azariah who organized the appointments and accompanied me to the hospital. She knew better than anyone what I had been through.
“Okay,” I replied as I stood up.
But Azariah didn’t move. I was about to ask her why when I suddenly saw Clayton carrying Talia in his arms, quickly making his way out the door. They were chatting and laughing: “Talia, today I’m taking you to the amusement park.”
“Haven’t you always wanted to go?” he asked.
Talia was an adopted daughter of the Wheeler family and had grown up with Clayton. Their bond was strong, something I couldn’t rival even after seven years.
“Clay, can we get some cotton candy too?” Talia pleaded, and Clayton’s eyes were focused solely on her.
I suddenly remembered one of my birthdays when I had also wanted to go to the amusement park. But Clayton wouldn’t take me. He said, “That's for kids. Aren’t you too old for such things?”
Snapping back to reality, Clayton and Talia were already gone. Azariah and I headed to the hospital. The place was all too familiar, as was the operating table.
Dr. Eliseo Moore asked for my confirmation one more time: “Adriana, are you sure you want to go through with this procedure? Your uterine wall is very thin; it might be difficult for you to conceive in the future.”
“It’s fine,” I responded. After all, I didn’t see children in my future. Clayton had already broken my heart.
Before entering the operating room, I came across a post Talia put up on Instagram. The caption read, “I think happiness is having your loved one by your side.”
In the video, she and Clayton were beside a small campfire. They were roasting coffee, oranges, and pastries, playing cards together.
Clayton looked at her tenderly: “You’re amazing, Talia, you always have better cards than I do.”
“Well, of course, I’m the queen of cards!” Talia teased with a playful pout.
I clearly saw the light in Clayton’s eyes, a look of genuine relaxation. Once, I went fishing with him and grilled burgers by the lake. But he seemed distracted and told me, “Fishing is dull, and grilled food isn’t that special.”
It seemed he was only truly content when he was with Talia.
I turned off my phone and entered the operating room.
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