‘‘Siah, can we stop at the pet store? I don’t have any homework today.”

I inwardly groaned. Sam had been after a pet ever since she got her room set up. She was sure a room that size needed more than just her, although she was very clear that her baby nephew was not welcome to fill the extra space. No, she wanted a pet. At first she had thought about a turtle, but more recently she’d moved onto a fish tank after one of her teachers mentioned how watching a fish tank was good for you and can help your eyes focus on the letters on a page better.

“Why?”

“To look for a book on how to take care of rabbits. The one my teacher has is old. Like older than you old, and if we’re going to keep Fluffy alive we need current information.”

Sam never ceased to surprise me. I knew that they’d recently acquired a pet rabbit on loan as part of some 4-H outreach, but she had only mentioned it in passing.

“I’m pretty sure it is the same, but we can stop.” I mean, how much could rabbit care change? It was nice to finally be able to give her these little extras when I hadn’t been able to for so long. “As long as you don’t try to convince me we need a fish tank again.” Although I was on the cusp of saying fuck it and getting her one of those single fish that glow in the dark and live in the little tanks. When I looked them up, the amount of care they took seemed manageable enough.

“I know. I know.” She sighed from the back seat. I’d gotten so used to Dusty driving her to and from school, me often joining her in the back, that it felt almost odd to have her not even in my view except through a quick glance in the mirror.

“They are a ton of work and you can’t even snuggle them,” she added, parroting my no-fish arguments.

“Exactly.” I wanted to do a happy dance for avoiding the entire no you’re not getting a fish tank sad face.

“That’s why I was thinking about a puppy.” She sounded entirely too excited by that prospect. I might have caved on a single fish, but where was not a chance on this planet that I wanted to train a puppy. Maybe—possibly, I might consider an adult dog after the baby and any others that might come our way after him were out of diapers, but until then, it was not gonna happen.

“Puppies poop all over the place.” And half the time they stuck their nose in it afterward. Just no.

“So do babies and we’re getting one of those,” she counter-argued as we pulled into the plaza with the pet place.

“In a diaper.” I made a note to not go down the aisle where the store sold the doggie diapers. I’d never hear the end of it.

“Sally says her baby brother poops in the tub and peed on her dad so I think it pretty much is the same.”

“No is no.” I pulled into an expectant parent space. They were the best things ever. Whoever designed them deserved cookies. Lots and lots of cookies. I might have had a month and a half to go in the pregnancy, but that didn’t mean walking to the back of the lot with an armful of groceries was fun. Not that the guys let that happen, but still.

“Can we look at the puppies?” she asked as I let her out of the car. Dusty already insisted that we needed the child locks on for the baby who was not going to be able to open a car door for a very long time, even after he was born. Mine didn’t have them, which of course parlayed into a new car, one I didn’t want, but somehow still ended up with. Richard could be stubborn. Sam and I just rolled our eyes anytime either of us needed to be let out of the car, both of us realizing how ludicrous the locks were, but loving Richard enough to go along with it.

“Absolutely not.”

“All of the dogs here are rescue dogs.” She took my hand as we walked to the store. It was nice that as grown up as she was, she still allowed herself to be a little girl like this. I knew it wouldn’t last long and treasured every moment. “It’s not like I’m asking you to support puppy mills or anything so dastardly.”

“Vocab word?”

“Yep.” She beamed, filled with pride over all she was accomplishing at her new school. The school year was winding down for most places, but Mapleville Academy held a summer semester so for the first year, at least, she’d be going almost nonstop. Something she talked about often as “‘the best thing ever.”‘

“So no puppy?” I didn’t need to look to know she was giving me what I affectionately referred to as the lip, where she curled her lip down in the most pathetic-looking face imaginable in an attempt to meet her goal, in this case a puppy.

“No puppy. But we can get the book.”

We walked inside and after spending a half an hour on which was the best book to get her class, I caved and we looked at the dogs. I had to admit, it was tempting to take one of those little buggers home, the way they acted like each and every one of us were made of amazing, wagging their tails and giving little kisses. Tempting, but not enough. Even if I’d decided then and there we needed a puppy, which I did not, it wasn’t just Sam and I anymore.

It was still surreal that I had not one, but two men who wanted me in their life. And not just as a let’s get it on and then you go home way that so many people I’d worked with at the coffee shop had found in their dating.

Dating. That was such a wrong way to describe what we had going on. We were building a family. But then again, I had no idea what we should or even could call ourselves. We weren’t married, not all three of us anyway. We weren’t even mated. It was all too confusing. I tried to not think too much on it, knowing that when I was with them, they showed me with words and actions that Sam and I were important to them and that was enough.

We drove home, Sam whipping out a green sheet of plastic that somehow helped her read and placed it on the pages of the book reading me little bits here and there. Her reading was still not what anyone would consider strong, but given that less than a year earlier she could read nothing, it was huge. So huge, I didn’t even give her the lecture our mom gave me about reading in the car causing headaches.

As we rounded the corner, our house came into view. Our house. Our home. We no longer felt like guests or impositions, we were family. Pregnancy had a way of amplifying my emotions, but I knew that this joy was not because of hormones and nesting, it was because of love, and who could ask for anything more than that?

I pulled into our driveway, stopping alongside the house, not wanting to bother with the garage.

“Out you go, Sam. You might not have homework, but you sure do have a room to clean.” We walked to the house, Sam punching in the keycode before running up to her room.

I was under no illusion that she was going to go and clean up. She had that rabbit book and would want to make sure she knew it well enough to read it, or at least part of it to her class. I’d end up helping her before bed, like normal. And miraculously it would be just as messy when she finally left for school.

I took out the paper for the dog Sam had loved, out of my pocket—who was I kidding? I had loved him, too, all fluffy white and joy filled. He was like a fluffy package of sunshine. I tossed it in the recycle bin. He’d probably be gone within the week and dogs were a no. A hard no. More like a marshmallow no, but a no nonetheless.

It was my night to cook, and normally I’d have company in the kitchen making the task infinitely more fun. Richard was not coming back until morning, and Dusty was at a meeting with the local hospital about helping redo their website. Because of HIPAA or some shit, and with the nature of the things they wanted him to look at, they wanted to meet in person, something he rarely did. That meant I had no cooking partner which made the process easier but far less fun.

I just had everything chopped and ready for a stir-fry when the doorbell rang. I turned off the warming burner before rinsing my hands quickly and waddling to the door to sign for whatever Amazon baby item Richard had discovered and needed while away. I swore the man lost money when he was traveling for work, based on his Amazon one-clicks alone.

“Just a second,” I called as the doorbell rang once again. When I finally opened it, instead of a postal delivery person, before me stood an older woman, dressed like she belonged at an exclusive yacht club brunch. She’d have been attractive with her nice clothing, perfectly done hair, and tasteful makeup if it weren’t for one thing—the rage on her face.

“May I help you?” I asked, hoping she had the wrong house. Shit, the wrong neighborhood.

“I think you have quite helped enough.” She took two steps closer before attempting to push me out of the way with her hand. “Move over,” she snarled as I stood my ground, blocking her way. There was no way I was doing that, not with Sam in her room. This crazy woman could stay right where she was.

“Excuse me?” I firmed up my voice trying to sound as alpha as possible, which was ridiculous given my protruding belly.

“You heard me. Move over, you home-wrecking omega scum.”

“I think you have the wrong house.” I didn’t know many people on the street, but none of them seemed to be filled with this kind of drama, so I assumed she was for the house one street over, the one who’se pizzas often ended up here first. I was so wrong.

“I think I know my son Richard’s house.” She whirled her hands in front of me indicating my belly, which was well past the is it too much beer? stage before holding a manila envelope addressed to Ruth Harris. “Explain this.”

“What is it?” At least her story about being Richard’s mom panned out, having the same last name and all, but that was the only thing the envelope clarified.

“Divorce papers.”

Divorce papers. I knew they had talked about it, but seeing them in person made it different. I hadn’t wanted them to do it, their marriage having been my biggest concern from the beginning.

In my shock, she pushed past me and straight into the kitchen, of all places. “My baby is getting divorced because of you.” She slammed the envelope down on the counter, looking at the chopped-up arrays of food briefly. “You’re killing him from the inside out.”

“He told you that?” I whispered, dejectedly, half out of breath after trying to waddle fast enough to keep up with her.

“He didn’t have to. I have the papers right here.” She slammed her fist onto the envelope. She was so unlike Richard, who was so cool and calm. This woman was irate and it was all directed at me. I reached into my pocket, instantly cursing myself for putting my phone on the table while cooking. I might not be able to call Richard mid-flight, but I could attempt to call Dusty. If he was out of his meeting already, he would pick it up first ring.

“You’ve made him so embarrassed and distraught that he couldn’t even tell me himself. I had to find out from a misaddressed envelope from our lawyers.”

That explained why she had the papers. I couldn’t imagine Richard just sending them her way or instructing someone else to do so. He wasn’t like that.

Although I had thought him someone who wasn’t scared to face his mom and that was obviously not the case.

“I don’t think this is what you think it is. Maybe you should call Richard.” He wouldn’t answer, but it would buy me enough time to get my phone from its perch on the table without it being a scene.

“You have no right to tell me what to do.” She took too many steps closer, her perfectly manicured pointer finger stabbing me in the chest with each word. The woman might be crazy. “You home-wrecker. You omega, mooching, piece of trash home-wrecker.”

“Stop!” Sam’s voice bellowed through the kitchen, the very last place I wanted her to be. It was bad enough I had to deal with her, Sam was a child and needed to hear none of this.

“And who are you?” Ruth tried to walk around me, to get a better view of Sam. Fuck that.

“I’m Samantha and you need to stop being mean to my brother. Stress is not good for the baby.” Good old Sam, fighting with facts.

“Not like it’s even his.”

Crap on a cracker, Richard and I were so having words. How could he not have even told her they weren’t using a surrogate? Unless... were my feelings stronger than Dusty and Richard’s? Maybe they were doing like Sam told his mother and trying to not stress me out until the baby came. Maybe I was a surrogate still in their mind. It didn’t feel that way when we were together, but looking back, they had been giving me more space in bed, and Richard was working extra flights in preparation for the time off he was taking when the baby comes.

Maybe this had all been the calm before the storm. At least both my bosses promised me jobs if ever I needed, so I wouldn’t be homeless. Except, finding another place as cheap as the rent-controlled one was going to be impossible. Shit, what was I even still doing here with this woman? I needed to figure out so many things before the baby came.

“You need to leave,” Sam shouted, yanking me from my spiral of despair, long enough to figure out she was right. Whether her anger was justified or not, this woman needed to leave. I had to pack and make phone calls and I didn’t know all what. Tears were streaming down my cheeks. How had I let myself believe that everything was sunshine and rainbows? How? “You need to call your son and discuss this. It is not my place.”

“But it is your place to do what? This is like that movie about the nanny who finagled her way between the family, only worse because you are using my grandchild to do so. Why are you even here? Surrogates are incubators, not houseguests.”

I was only hearing bits and pieces of what she was saying, none of the words mattering as she spouted on for what felt like hours. Did I mean so little to them that I was a dirty secret? The kind you hid away and prayed never came to light?

I was the epitome of every loser in every bad made-for-television movie there ever was. I was that guy, the one so pathetic he didn’t even realize his love interest, or in this case interests, weren’t really interested. He’s just not that into you.

“I told you to get away from my brother. Uncle Richard and Uncle Dusty are going to be livid at you for making my brother upset when he is having a baby.”

Her voice was fierce. My little Sam was a force to be reckoned with. Not that she should’ve been protecting me, that was my job; protect her. That thought had me gathering enough strength to take the woman, huffing and mumbling the entire way, to the door, locking it behind her. It wasn’t until the door closed, that the sobs overtook me and I slid to the floor.

It was over. This was all over. All my dreams shattered in one instant. I was their surrogate. A surrogate.

“It’s okay, Siah,” Sam mumbled hugging me tightly. “I’m going to call Uncle Dusty. He’ll make it better.”

“No. Don’t. We need to pack. We need to go.” Even as the words fell from my mouth, I knew them to be irrational, but the thought controlled me. I needed to go. I deserved to be loved. We all deserved to be loved. How had I let Sam become so intertwined with them? I was a horrible brother. Would I be a horrible Da?

“Siah, it will all be okay. We don’t need to go anywhere. She’s gone now and we don’t ever have to let her back in again.”

And that was where her youth showed through. She thought this was about a bad woman who said mean things to the brother she loved. If only it were so simple. This was about a man who thought he found love and was willing to let go of all his insecurities to go all-in for said love, to the point of allowing his sister to join him for the journey.

Only problem was, this man was the only one in love. Lust? Sure, there was no denying we had that in spades, but love? No, it couldn’t be love. If it were, Richard would have told his mom about us long ago. Shit, I didn’t even know she lived locally. No, Sam had it all wrong. It was not going to be okay.

As I heard her begging Dusty to hurry back, my sobs grew uncontrollable. I thought I had everything a man could ask for. I’d never been so wrong in my life.