My name is Emily. I’m 29 years old — just an ordinary woman with a simple dream: to live peacefully beside my husband, Daniel, the man who once promised we’d grow old together in a little house on the outskirts of California.
But life rarely gives us what we want. Daniel was diagnosed with late-stage leukemia. The treatment plan was outrageously expensive. We had already sold everything — even borrowed money from sketchy lenders — but still didn’t have enough.
Just when I was drowning in despair… a man appeared.
His name was Kane — a well-known real estate mogul. He and his wife couldn’t have children. After multiple failed IVF attempts, they turned to surrogacy. They were looking for someone healthy, discreet, and willing to disappear after giving birth. And they were willing to pay $300,000.
I cried when I signed the contract. Not because of the money, but because I felt like I was betraying Daniel. But when I saw his pale face, I reminded myself: I had to survive — so that he could live
For 9 long months, I lived quietly in a private apartment they arranged. No one knew what I was doing — not even my own mother. I just prayed Daniel could hold on a little longer…
The day I gave birth, it rained like the sky was mourning. When the baby let out its first cry, the doctor suddenly froze. I was exhausted, but I noticed the whole team looked… unsettled.
The doctor whisked the baby away and whispered something to a nurse. Moments later, Kane stormed into the delivery room, eyes red, hands shaking with a DNA test result I’d never seen before. He screamed:
“WHY IS THIS CHILD MINE… AND YOUR HUSBAND’S?!”
The entire hospital went silent. I didn’t understand what was happening — until the doctor pulled me aside and whispered:
“We suspected something the moment the baby was born with an extremely rare blood type — Bombay. It matches only your husband… and the father who hired the surrogate.”
Finally, the truth came out. Three years ago, during a charity bone marrow drive, my husband Daniel had donated stem cells — to Kane. Ever since then, Daniel’s cells had been living inside Kane’s body.
In a bizarre medical mishap, a cloned sperm sample had been accidentally swapped. They had unknowingly implanted Daniel’s reproductive cells into me — instead of Kane’s.
This child… was the strange result of one woman, her own husband… and a medical accident never seen before.
And Daniel? After his final treatment — fully funded by Kane, who now owed him more than ever — he miraculously recovered.
We held the baby together — all three of us — in silence. None of us knew what to call this child. A son? A miracle? Or maybe… a bittersweet punishment from fate.