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 arrives and gets on the birth certificate, we will marry right away. If you want, we can raise him together later. I will tell him you are 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 believes in staying single, but she wants a child. You know that. She doesn't trust anyone else. After thinking it over, I am the best fit."

He looked at me, his eyes free of any guilt, instead carrying a self-righteous sense of duty. "This is just biological help. I only provide the body. No emotions involved. We are best friends. I can't ignore her. Our wedding will pause for now. Once it ends..."

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 are just insecure, aren't you?"

He jabbed irritably at a page in the agreement. "All my premarital assets will 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 isn't young anymore. Her body can'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 know you are the most sensible. Once the child arrives, you will 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 plans to have a child with Laurie? What do 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."

I just sent the message when Eric pushed the door open.

He saw the suitcase at my feet, his brows furrowing into a knot, his tone full of impatience. "Had enough of this? Don't throw a childish tantrum."

He strode past me as if that massive suitcase was invisible, pulled a folded blueprint from his briefcase, and spread it on the table.

It was our home's floor plan.

"Take a look," he pointed to the study area, excited. "I plan to turn the study into the nursery. It faces south with plenty of sunlight. What do you think of painting the walls light yellow? More cozy that way."

He spoke so casually, as if we just discussed which restaurant to hit for the weekend.

That study still held all my professional books and the therapy equipment left unused.

He already rushed to erase every trace of me from this home.

I looked at his eyes lit by visions of the future and could not utter a word.

Eric took my silence as sulky agreement and kept planning on his own. "Once the child arrives, the three of us..."

"Buzz." His phone vibrated, the screen flashing Laurie.

Eric picked up almost instantly. The voice that bossed me moments ago dropped down, soft enough to wring water from. "Laurie? What happened? Insomnia again? Don't overthink it. I got you... Yeah, all sorted. Maeve understood. She signed."

He instinctively took the phone to the balcony, his back radiating guilty tenderness.

I heard that breezy "she understood" and suddenly laughed.

Five years ago, I dropped my studio plans, and he called me understanding.

Three years ago, I canceled an overseas training trip to nurse his sprained ankle, and he called me understanding.

In his world, my understanding meant sacrifice.

Eric finished the call and returned, the softness still lingered on his face. He saw my cool expression and frowned in displeasure again.

He cleared his throat and said in a tone that brooked no argument. "Laurie felt stressed and slept poorly recently. You know therapy, right? Swing by to help her out sometime. Count it as good karma for our future kid."

I finally lifted my eyes to meet his.

He not only trampled my feelings but also my career, wanting me to serve the woman about to carry his child.

How generous.

"My services cost a lot," I said, my voice calm as if it concerned someone else. "Have her book a slot. Dr. Fletcher, my schedule filled up fast these days."

Eric's face froze for a split second. He seemed unprepared for that response.

Then anger flared across his features. "Maeve, what happened to you? So petty! Got a grudge against money now?"

He pointed at me, looking heartbroken. "I said all premarital assets would go to you. What more do you want? Can you be less narrow-minded?"

I had no interest in arguing further.

Reasoning with a man who saw himself as a savior proved pointless.

When I stayed unmoved, Eric's patience ran out completely.

He yanked at his tie in frustration. "Unreasonable! I have reports to write for work!"

He slammed the study door shut.

The whole world went quiet in an instant.

I stared at that closed door and felt unprecedented ease for the first time.

This home that once warmed me now looked like a cage I could discard anytime.

At the same time, my phone screen lit up again with a message from Ethan. "Your sketches and gear weighs a ton. I'll help you move them tomorrow."

The nerves strung tight all evening finally loosened at those words.

My eyes heated, something welled up, but I held it back.

I bowed my head and replied, "Thank you so much."

The next morning, I taped up the last cardboard box when the doorbell rang.

I straightened up, but before I reached the door, Eric, who slept in the guest room overnight, beat me to it and yanked it open.

Laurie stood outside.

She walked in with a beaming smile, as if she returned to her own place. "Eric, I came to chat about the conception prep details."

As she spoke, her gaze swept over the stacked boxes in the living room and landed on me. "Oh, Maeve, what are you up to... spring cleaning for the baby?"

Eric glanced at me with an awkward expression, but his tone softened the moment he saw Laurie. "You arrive just in time. I want to tell you the study stand ready to convert into the nursery."

Laurie's eyes lit up.

She breezed past me and wandered through the house, acting every bit the lady of the manor.

"This painting's colors feels too gloomy. Hanging it here will not help the baby's early artistic exposure. We need to swap it out. Eric, your study has the best light, open north to south. It suites a nursery perfectly."

With every comment she made, Eric trailed behind and nodded along. "You thought of everything."

The two planned their shared future without a care for anyone else, treating me like thin air.

I crossed my arms and leaned against a stack of boxes taller than me, watching their absurd one-woman show like an outsider.

My heart stirred with no ripples at all. I even found it a bit funny.

Just then, Laurie's gaze fell on my packed therapy table. She covered her mouth in feigned surprise and turned to me. "Maeve, you still did that? House calls in all weather, so unsanitary, easy to catch bugs, tough and unsteady."

She paused, then spoke in a tone heavy with fake concern. "Once we have the kid, Eric shoulders the household alone. The pressure weighs too much. You ought to find something steadier and more respectable to share the load."

Her words dripped with contempt and humiliation for my profession.

Eric heard her and frowned at me too, chiming in. "Laurie has a point. That job of yours runs you ragged all over. It's not decent at all. Don't snap at her. She means well for us."

I finally reacted, lifted my gaze, and shifted it slowly from Eric's face to Laurie's hypocritical one. "My job stays beyond your judgment."

My words hung in the air when the doorbell rang again.

This time, without waiting for Eric, I strode over and pulled the door open.

Ethan's tall, straight figure appeared in the doorway.

He took in the scene inside, his eyes darkening, especially at Laurie and Eric standing close together.

But he asked nothing, just turned to me, his voice low and steady. "All packed up? I came to haul it."

At the sight of Ethan, the tight line of my mouth finally softened with a hint of warmth. "Yeah, all set."

Eric and Laurie both froze.

Eric in particular stared at his good buddy there to help me move, his face full of shock and betrayed fury.

"Ethan, what are you doing?" He stepped forward to block Ethan.

Then he whipped toward me, blazing with anger. "Maeve, what do you mean by this? Engagement not off yet, and you called in Ethan for backup? So eager to jump ship, huh?"

His double standard nearly made me laugh out of sheer fury.

He could donate sperm for his "best female buddy," but me asking a pal for a hand became out of line.

Ethan's broad frame stepped in front of me, calm as he eyed the worked-up Eric. "She needs to move. I come to help. That's it. Eric, watch your words."

"My words?" Eric barked a laugh like it was the biggest joke, fully enraged by Ethan's protectiveness.

He jabbed a finger at me and yelled what he thought was his trump card. "Fine, just fine! Maeve, I'm telling you, if you dare to go with him today, this engagement ends right here!"

He glared at me hard, his threat almost tangible. "I'd like to see who wants you without me!"

Beside him, Laurie quietly flashed a smug smile.