A Child for His Best Friend

My fiancé, Eric Fletcher, wanted to have a child for his best female friend.

That woman named Laurie Stephens believed in staying single, yet she wanted a descendant to carry on her genes.

Eric chose to help her by putting our engagement on hold to honor his friendship.

He tossed a "Sperm Donation and Joint Custody Agreement" in front of me, his tone cold and weary. "It's just about your insecurity, right? I added your name. All the property goes to you. Satisfied now? Sign it quick! Laurie's body couldn't wait for the optimal fertility window."

I signed my name on the agreement calmly, then packed my sketchbooks without a word.

Eric Fletcher finally let out a sigh of relief, his face showing pure ease.

He stepped closer to hug me, but I dodged away. "Once the child arrived and got on the birth certificate, we would marry right away. If you wanted, we could raise him together later. I would tell him you were a mom too."

I tucked away that thin agreement and watched him indifferently as he started planning the nursery with excitement.

He had no idea I had already arranged with his good buddy to get our marriage license next week.

...

I prepared Eric's bedtime herbal soak, and he came home.

From the entryway came the sound of him yanking at his tie, laced with impatience. "Maeve, come sign this."

On the living room coffee table sat a document titled "Sperm Donation and Joint Custody Agreement."

Before I could process the absurdity those words brought, Eric spoke up on his own, his tone matter-of-fact. "Laurie believed in staying single, but she wanted a child. You knew that. She didn't trust anyone else. After thinking it over, I was the best fit."

He looked at me, his eyes free of any guilt, instead carrying a self-righteous sense of duty. "This was just biological help. I only provided the body. No emotions involved. We were best friends. I couldn't ignore her. Our wedding would pause for now. Once it ended..."

My blood turned cold bit by bit. I looked at this man I had loved for five years and felt like the biggest joke.

When he proposed, he swore that both his body and mind belonged to me.

I gave up my dream of opening my own studio for him. I became the "stable" in-home therapist he praised, organizing his life neatly, only to get our wedding paused for his homie?

When I stayed silent too long, Eric lost his patience, his brows knitting tight.

In the past, when I went quiet, he knew I had something on my mind. He would come close, hold me, and soothe me patiently.

Now he rushed to help someone else have a child and grew impatient instead. "You were just insecure, weren't you?"

He jabbed irritably at a page in the agreement. "All my premarital assets would transfer to your name after marriage. Maeve, happy now?"

Those words acted like a knife, stabbing straight into the softest spot in my heart, then twisting hard.

So my five years of effort, all my understanding and concessions, meant nothing to him but petty haggling that money could buy off.

My last shred of hope shattered completely.

I lifted my head and met his scornful gaze, my own eyes flat and still.

Eric glanced at his watch, his tone growing more urgent. "Sign it already. Laurie wasn't young anymore. Her body couldn't wait for the optimal fertility window."

Every time I mentioned wanting a child, he cited work busyness and said we would talk later. Now he worried over another woman's optimal fertility window.

How ridiculous.

My whole body chilled as if I had fallen into an ice cave, yet I picked up that cold pen and signed my name clearly in the second party's spot, stroke by stroke.

After I signed, Eric clearly relaxed.

I did not cry or fuss as he expected. Instead, I turned calmly, walked into the bedroom, and pulled out my suitcase.

Those sketchbooks I had treasured for years, that set of professional therapy equipment he dismissed as "unstable" and left unused, I placed them inside one by one, methodically.

This was my goodbye.

Goodbye to the Maeve who had orbited him for five years and lost herself.

Eric approached, his face lit with relieved smile. He opened his arms for a comforting hug. "Maeve, I knew you were the most sensible. Once the child arrived, you would be a mom too..."

I stepped aside, and he grabbed air, his expression turning awkward.

I only felt a wave of nausea churning in my stomach. "I'm tired. I want to be alone for a bit."

I shut the bedroom door, shutting him out.

Then my phone screen lit up with a message. "I heard Eric planned to have a child with Laurie? What did you plan to do?"

I stared at that message, my heart a tangle of emotions.

Ethan Barrett was a college classmate of mine and Eric. We met through the same club and stayed close over the years.

After Eric and I got together, Ethan enlisted in the military, and we drifted apart.

Even Ethan knew about this. It showed how brazen Eric acted outside.

I gave a bitter smile and replied to him. "Don't worry. We're done."