When I agreed to be Dillon’s surrogate, I’ll admit that I didn’t really know what I was signing up for. The first night was wonderful, and the week following finds me spending almost every moment in his arms. He takes the week off of work, explaining that he’ll be away on business for the majority of the next few months.

He wants to spend as much time as possible inside of me, filling me to the brim. I know how desperately he wants me to conceive, and truthfully, I can’t deny how much I enjoy feeling him nestled deep within me. I’ve had my share of sex, but nothing like this.

While he’s been nothing but kind and warm, I can’t ignore the knowledge that this isn’t a relationship. As much as it may feel like it, and as much as it seems like we’re going through the motions, I’m just the oven for his prized little bun. It’s a feeling that’s difficult to shake at times, but while I’m in his arms, I can at least pretend that there’s something more between us.

It’s strange how deeply he seemed to desire me when I was ice cold, but now that I’m receptive to him, his feelings have dampened. When we’re not screwing, he seems miles away. There’s a distant look in his eyes, something almost haunted.

I know he’s going to China for a business trip, but every time I try to get more information about it, he clams up. I can only suspect it’s another ruthless takeover, and he simply doesn’t feel comfortable admitting it. I can’t say I blame him, there. I still hold some resentment regarding his treatment of people throughout his business career.

All the same, when it comes time for him to go, I’m reluctant to set him free from my arms. He seems even more reluctant to leave. I brush a hand through his dark hair, rubbing the pads of my fingertips against the skin of his scalp. His eyes are closed, and it’s the most peaceful I’ve seen him look.

However, his breathing shudders from time to time, and I can only wonder just what has him so bothered. With his personal jet making the preparations to leave at any moment, it’s now or never. I have to find out what’s troubling him so deeply. I want him to know he can confide in me, even if we aren’t really a couple.

“Dillon,” I murmur, and he peeks a single eye open. I offer him a faint smile, which he returns after a bit of hesitation. Biting the bullet, I plunge ahead. “Something is bothering you. I can tell. What does this trip involve that has you so shaken?”

He stiffens, and I can tell his immediate reaction is to draw away. I hold tight to him, however, continuing the soothing motion of my fingers through his hair.

“Please, Dillon. You know you can tell me anything,” I murmur.

His expression turns briefly bitter, but he seems to settle into my grip.

“It’s not the trip itself that is the problem,” he begins, picking at a loose thread on the robe I’m wearing.

I hum quietly to let him know I’m listening, enjoying the few moments we have left together before he has to leave for a few months.

“It’s…we’ve been trying really hard to conceive, haven’t we? I can’t bear to think I’m leaving you behind to pursue the very sort of venture that made you hate me,” he mutters, his jaw clenching against the tears that I know threaten to fall. As assertive and calculating as Dillon is, he’s a true softie at heart.

Taking a moment to consider his words, I wonder just how much I mean to him. Is he only concerned that I’ll turn my back on him and take off with his child if the mood strikes me? I can’t help but think there’s more to his feelings than that, but maybe I’m just projecting. I have come to care quite deeply for him, after all.

Deciding to set his mind at ease, I lean down and press my lips against his. He seems somewhat surprised by the sudden show of affection, and I try to pretend I’m not as flustered as I truly am. For all the sex we’ve been having, I’ve not really been affectionate aside from the truly intimate moments.

“You’re worrying yourself over nothing. You’ll go on your trip, and maybe…maybe I’ll have some news for you before long. If you think I’m going to turn tail after all we’ve been through, you’re going to have to try much harder to get rid of me. I’m having this baby for you, and I hope we can remain friends after. I won’t deny I’ve not quite moved on from the past, but I’m trying. You should, too,” I say carefully.

He remains silent, as if he’s not heard me. For a moment, I wonder if he’s fallen asleep.

“I’ll miss you, Charlotte,” he whispers.

I find myself tearing up at the thought of him leaving, laughter spilling past my lips at just how dramatic we’re being. He turns to face me, considering my expression for a moment before moving to close the distance between our lips. I brace myself, my breath catching in my throat. If I can just pretend for a moment longer…

A sudden vibrating sound jolts him away from me, and the spell is broken. He curses under his breath, reaching into his pocket to retrieve his phone. He swipes the screen, staring at it with a faint air of melancholy.

“I have to go,” he mutters.

I exhale the breath I’d been holding, forcing a cheerful smile. He glances towards me, and before I can speak, he kisses me tenderly one last time.

“Take care of yourself, all right? If you receive any news, call me immediately,” he says awkwardly as he pulls away, obviously flustered.

I can’t swallow my chuckle, reaching out to caress his cheek.

“I’ll miss you too, you know,” I confess.

His lips curl into a delighted smile, but another vibration from his phone draws him away from me. My lips part, and I speak without thinking.

“I lo—” I begin, cutting myself off in the middle of my sentence. He seems not to have heard me, glancing towards me with an adorable tilt of his head.

“What’s that?” he asks quickly, watching me for half a second before shuffling around to gather the last few items he’ll need for his travels.

I feel my cheeks grow aflame with an intensity that could rival the sun, and I avert my eyes from him. I can’t believe I’d nearly slipped up like that. I can’t believe that I would say such a thing to him. Most of all, I can’t believe that it’s true.

“I’ll, uh… I’ll call you with any news, of course. Be safe,” I stutter, rising from his bed.

He’s letting me keep his extra key, insisting that I can stay in his apartment if I begin to feel that my current home is too unsafe. Though I can’t tell him as much, I plan to remain for at least a little while after he’s gone. I want to breathe him in for as long as possible, to surround myself with the essence of Dillon Bradshaw.

Oblivious to my thoughts, he offers me a final smile before walking out the door. I hear him call out a quick goodbye, and as I hear him slip out of the apartment, I feel tears well up in my eyes. How have I managed to get myself into such a mess? What was I thinking, agreeing to this strange situation? Who will I turn to when Dillon’s had his fun?

Shaking off the treacherous path my mind is taking, I allow myself to recline in his bed for a moment. A short nap, and then I’ll go home. I don’t plan to spend his entire absence surrounded by reminders of the man. That would be crazy.