“We wanted to ask you something.”
His voice was unusually serious.
“It’s very important.”
“Then ask.”
Claire bit her lip.
For a moment, she couldn’t seem to find the words.
Then she whispered, “The doctors gave us the last answer.”
I watched her face.
“I can’t carry a baby.”
Her voice broke.
“Not now. Not ever.”
I reached across the table and took her hand.
Her fingers were ice-cold.
“Claire, I’m so sorry.”
“I know.”
She swallowed hard.
“But I have one more hope left.”
Her eyes met mine.
“And it’s sitting across from me.”
At first, I didn’t understand.
Then I did.
My chest suddenly felt strange and hollow.
“You want me to carry your baby.”
Evan leaned forward.
His eyes were wet.
“We would love this child more than anything on earth, Marianne.”
Claire squeezed my hand.
“Please.”
Her voice trembled.
“You’re the only person I trust with my whole heart.”
The request was enormous.
I’d carried two children of my own, but I was closer to forty than thirty.
This wasn’t babysitting.
It wasn’t lending them money.
It wasn’t helping them move.
They were asking me to carry their child inside my body for nine months.
“I’m sorry,” I said quietly. “I don’t think I can do this.”
Claire immediately broke down.
A gut-wrenching sob escaped her.
Evan reached for her hand.
“We understand,” he said.
But he didn’t.
Not really.
For the next two years, Claire kept asking me to reconsider.
Every few months, the conversation returned.
She would explain how badly she wanted to be a mother.
She would remind me that I was the only person she trusted.
She would tell me how much it would mean to her.
And every time, I said no.
Until eventually, I couldn’t say it anymore.
One day, I looked at my sister and said the words that would change all of our lives.
“I’ll do it.”
