Pregnant for My Late Sister's Husband

“Earth to Gail,”

Sia’s voice broke through her absent mind. “Are you even listening to me?”

Gail blinked, looking up. Sia was standing at the stove with her hands on her hips. She had that wide-eyed expression she always wore when she was about to spill something juicy.

“Sorry,” Gail murmured, “What were you saying?”

“I was saying,” Sia repeated, dragging out each word and leaning a little closer as if the walls would hear her if she wasn't careful. “You will not believe what I heard today at work.”

Gail managed a faint smile. “Knowing you very well, it’s either a celebrity scandal or another patient who thinks you’re secretly in love with him.”

Sia grinned, but there was a spark in her eyes. “Well, none of the above, this one is big. Like, ‘I-need-to-tell-you-right-now-before-I-burst’ big.” She dropped her voice to a sneaky whisper. “It’s about William Locke.”

Gail’s fingers froze on the edge of the table. Her pulse gave a betraying leap, but she forced her expression to remain neutral. “William Locke?” she repeated, keeping her tone as light as she could manage. “Isn’t that Maxine's…”

She caught herself, swallowing the remaining word and mentally scolding herself. She had almost said the words “Maxine's murderer” out loud.

But in Sia’s world, Maxine was just a name in a rumor. And William? Just another wealthy man whose life was the stuff of news in Dowerhill.

Sia didn’t notice the hesitation. “Yes, that William Locke. Mr Tall, Dark, and Broody. The one who owns WilTech, you know, the fancy tech company in the gigantic glass building near the marina.”

“I’ve heard of him,” Gail said, keeping her gaze carefully on the table to hide the rage boiling through her whole being. “What about him?”

Sia abandoned the ladle she was using to stir the pot, rushing over to perch on the chair opposite Gail. “Okay, so you know how I work at Dowerhill Hospital, right?”

“You remind me daily.” Gail murmured.

Sia giggled. “Well, this morning I was filing some paperwork in one doctor's office when I overheard him talking to a senior nurse. From what I heard,” She leaned in so far that she was almost speaking into Gail's ear. “Mr Locke is looking for a surrogate.”

For a moment, the words didn’t register. Gail stared at her friend, the syllables hanging in the air like a shaky bridge between them.

“A surrogate?” she repeated slowly.

“Yup.” Having dropped the headline of her gossip, Sia sat back, clearly enjoying herself. “Someone to carry his baby. Isn’t that wild? I mean, the man is not even forty, and he has all the money in the world. You would think he could just get a girlfriend or something. But no, he’s skipping all of that and just hiring someone to pop out an heir for him.”

Gail’s mind was no longer on Sia’s playful tone. She heard only the word ‘surrogate’, felt it echoing in the empty space of her chest where only grief and bitterness have lived for the past five years.

“Did they say why?” she asked, keeping her voice deliberately casual.

Sia shrugged. “I dunno, I just know that they froze his sperm already, but he wants to use it right away instead of waiting. I guess he’s not the sentimental type.”

Gail’s heartbeat was a steady drum in her ears. William Locke, surgery, surrogate, an heir that he wanted at once. The wheels were turning furiously in her head.

“I mean,” Sia continued, twirling her finger in her hair, “it’s not like this kind of thing is strange these days anyway. Loads of rich people do it now. But William Locke! Can you imagine what he would be offering to pay such a person?”

Gail didn’t answer immediately. She was picturing his face. Sharp jawline, cold dark eyes, the distant expression she’d seen in photographs and only once in person years ago.

It was at Maxine's funeral. Of course no one had invited Gail, but she couldn't bear to miss it, so she had sneaked there. No one had seen her as she said her goodbyes from afar off. She remembered how William, Maxine's so-called husband, hadn’t shed a single tear. She remembered how his face had looked like stone.

And now, he wanted someone to carry his child since Maxine couldn't do that from her grave.

She saw in her mind’s eye, a door swinging open. It was a door that she had been waiting for, for five bitter years.

If she became that surrogate, she would be in his house and in his life. Close enough to see the cracks in his armor, close enough to destroy him piece by piece. She would strip him of the very thing that made him kill her sister, his stupid company and all his billions.

The thought was intoxicating.

Sia was still talking, her voice was a cheerful hum in the background. “Of course, it’s not like they’re gonna put out an ad in the paper or something. The hospital is handling it all privately. One would have to apply through official channels, go through screening, all that. But whoever they pick, gosh, that woman is set for life!”

Gail’s lips curved but not much. “Set for life, huh?”

“Totally. I mean, think about it, he’s a billionaire. Even if he’s not the cuddly type, he'll make sure the surrogate is living in luxury for the whole nine months. And the paycheck?” Sia let out a low whistle.

“Probably insane. If not for the way you love your teaching job, and of course the fact that you're dating my cousin, I swear I'd be pushing you through the hospital door right now to take the job.” She finished with a chuckle.

Gail raised an eyebrow. “You'd be pushing me? Why not go for it yourself?”

“Nah, I'm too squeamish about pregnancy.” Sia dismissed the idea.

Gail’s gaze drifted to the window, but she wasn’t looking at the sunlight that streamed in. She was imagining Maxine at the bottom of the sea, food for fish. Her fist tightened.

This wasn’t just her chance at revenge. This was fate.

“You okay?” Sia asked suddenly, tilting her head. “You’ve been awfully quiet this evening.”

“I’m fine,” Gail said, faking a little chuckle. “Just… thinking.”

Misunderstanding her, Sia grinned. “I mean, imagine me carrying William Locke’s baby. I'd be living in some huge mansion, eating the best food, wearing silk maternity dresses or whatever. And when it’s over, boom, rich forever. Not a bad gig, right?”

“Right.” Gail mumbled.

But her thoughts were far from Sia’s daydreams of luxury. She wasn’t thinking about silk dresses. She was thinking about power, about getting close enough to hurt William Locke the way he had hurt her.

Her pulse quickened, her mind already working through the logistics. She would have to find out how to apply, make sure she passed every medical test, every background check. She must play the perfect candidate. He wouldn’t suspect a thing until it was too late.

And when the time came…

She pushed the thought aside before it could fully form. There was no need to get ahead of herself. First, she had to get in.

“What would I even say to him if I met him?” Sia was laughing now. “Like, ‘Hi, I’m here to rent out my womb’? Awkward much?”

Gail let out a soft chuckle, the sound more genuine than she expected. “Something like that.”

Sia moved on to other topics after that, while serving their food, but Gail’s mind never really left the idea. It sat there like a spark, waiting for fuel to become a raging fire.

Later, when she was alone in her small apartment, she sat at her desk and opened her laptop. Her fingers paused over the keys for a minute, then she began to type. She couldn't wait to learn about the application process for the surrogacy program at Dowerhill Hospital.

The results popped up, and she clicked through until she found the information she needed. It was straightforward, and she could already see the path laid out before her.

As she read, her lips curled into the faintest of smiles.

Five years of waiting. Five years of swallowing her grief, and pretending to move on while the cold ember of rage almost choked her.

Now, it was time to feed that fire.