The Surrogate's Ruin: Ashes of My Baby

A month after the baby was born, Tristan dragged my deepest nightmare out into the open without a hint of warning. "The man who locked you up and violated you five years ago… it was Kael." Kael.

His adopted sister Gemma's husband. A loud ringing hijacked my ears. The blood left my face. "What?" I choked out.

Tristan just kept talking, his tone as casual as if he were discussing the weather. "When Gemma found out she couldn't get pregnant, her motherinlaw was already looking for a reason to kick her out.

She needed a baby to secure her spot in the family. "So, I agreed to her plan. We used you as the surrogate. Kael always had a thing for you anyway. "So…" Bile rose in my throat.

The three of them had plotted this together. They threw me in that dark room. Stripped away my freedom.

Let Kael force himself on me night after night until a pregnancy test showed two pink lines. I dug my nails into my palms. My lips trembled.

I swallowed the thick wave of nausea. "Why are you telling me this now?" Tristan let out a long breath.

His shoulders dropped, like a massive weight had finally been lifted off him. "Keeping this secret for five years was exhausting. "Besides, I gave you a baby back. We're even now.

They say a woman softens up once she becomes a mother. "I guess it's true… You're not screaming or throwing a fit like you used to.

You've really learned to behave." I forced the corners of my mouth up into a stiff, empty smile. He had no idea. I hadn't learned to behave. I just had a secret of my own.

One I hadn't confessed to him yet.

Chapter 1 The brutal truth slammed into me, spinning the room, but a sharp discrepancy in his words caught my ear. "Gave me a baby back… what do you mean?" Tristan froze.

The muscles in his jaw ticked.

He ran a hand through his hair, letting out a frustrated breath. "Before all that happened, you were pregnant, right?" He shrugged. "So, I rubbed some shoe polish on the stairs…" All the oxygen vanished from the room.

A tremor seized my fingers. My first baby. The one I had waited for. He killed him. He was seven months along. A fully formed little boy.

Just two months away from opening his eyes and seeing this world. Destroyed by his own father. A phantom hand crushed my ribs, caving in my chest until no air could pass through.

My mouth fell open. My breaths came in jagged, shallow gasps. Tristan grabbed my shaking hand, pressing a gentle kiss to my knuckles. "I know it hurts, but we have Zander now.

It's the same thing." My eyes dragged toward the crib. A hot, silent tear spilled down my cheek. "It's not the same." Tristan's brow furrowed. He dropped my hand.

His tone hardened, the gentle facade vanishing instantly. "How is it different? They are both our kids. Just pretend Zander is the first one reincarnated.

Problem solved." He gestured impatiently toward the crib. "Besides, after the miscarriage, I dropped everything to take care of you.

I didn't leave your side. "I cooked every single meal from scratch to build your strength back up." He pointed a finger at me. "I don't owe you anything, Kinsley!" A new baby and a few homecooked meals.

That was supposed to erase the agony of having my child ripped from my body? Never. I would never accept that. Tristan's raised voice startled Zander. A loud wail pierced the air.

Tristan instantly scooped the baby up, swaying and shushing him with soft, soothing murmurs. When we found out I was pregnant with Zander, Tristan's joy matched mine.

He painted the nursery weeks in advance. He bought so many tiny onesies the closet doors wouldn't even shut.

He used to rest his palm gently against my swollen belly, whispering stories through the skin, waiting for a kick.

This baby got all the overflowing fatherly love my first baby never lived to see. He truly loved Zander. But now. The more he loved him. The harder my stomach twisted in on itself.

Tristan carried Zander over and held him out to me. My eyes burned. I stared at him with a dead gaze. I didn't lift a single finger.

Tristan's lip curled, his gaze dropping over me like I was trash. "I thought you finally learned how to behave, but you still have an attitude." He pulled the baby back against his chest. "If you're going to hold a grudge, we can cancel tomorrow's onemonth celebration.

We can just go to the courthouse and get a divorce!" I stared unblinking at his face. I wanted to slice his chest open just to see if a beating heart actually existed inside him.

He threatened divorce five years ago, too. Right after I caught him in bed with his adopted sister, Gemma. Chapter 2 The fragile tape holding my sanity together ripped right off.

I threw myself at Gemma, fists flying. My thumb hovered over the screen, ready to fire the video of them straight to her motherinlaw.

A ringing slap to my face sent the phone clattering to the floor. Tristan didn't even blink. "I was just in a bad mood and had a few too many drinks.

If you can't handle it, we can just get a divorce." A bad mood. Back then, his bad moods were my biggest terror. I was terrified he would look at my ruined body with disgust.

Terrified he would resent the bastard child growing inside me. I hit my knees on the cold hardwood, begging him. I told him I wouldn't leave.

I even pounded my fists against my own swollen stomach. In my pathetic, twisted mind, Tristan's cheating wasn't his fault. It was this unwanted baby's fault. It was my fault.

Tristan pulled my thrashing body against his chest. "Kinsley, stop! You've already had one miscarriage.

If you lose this one too, you might never get pregnant again." That was his excuse for making me keep the baby. The puzzle pieces finally clicked into place.

He didn't give a damn about my health. He just couldn't let his precious adopted sister's ticket to a wealthy lifestyle die in the womb. Tristan took in my bloodless face.

His posture relaxed, clearly thinking the threat of divorce had shut me up just like it did five years ago.

He lowered his voice. "Kinsley, as long as you behave, the three of us can have a good life." He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. "You're exhausted today.

Get some rest. I'll watch the baby." Zander's cries echoed through the wall three or four times that night. Tristan paced the nursery floor alone. He never opened my door.

I never left my bed. The onemonth celebration kicked off the next morning. Muffled chatter and cooing over the baby drifted up from the living room.

I sat on my bed, staring at the blank wall. Nothing registered. The bedroom door clicked open.

A sickeningly sweet voice floated in. "Kinsley, why are you hiding in here?" Gemma strolled into the room, holding fiveyearold Nolan by the hand.

When Nolan spotted me, he broke away and launched his little body at my legs. "Aunt Kinsley! I missed you!" I looked down.

His facial structure was a carbon copy of Kael's, but his eyes… they were my eyes. The blind spot I'd had for five years instantly vanished. Acid clawed its way up my throat.

I shoved Nolan backward, my skin crawling as if he were covered in roaches. "Get out!" I pointed at the door. "Don't touch me!" Nolan hit the floor hard, landing right on his backside.

His little face went blank, eyes wide. A smirk played on Gemma's lips. In the past, whenever Nolan even tried to hug me, she would make snide comments and pull him away.

Last Mother's Day, Nolan had colored a card for me. Gemma lost her mind.

She walked right up to Tristan, locked her arms around his neck, and kissed him dead on the mouth right in front of me.

She had wiped her lipstick and smiled. "You try to take my son, I'll take your husband." Chapter 3 I wanted to lunge at her. I wanted to tear her apart.

Tristan grabbed my arms, pinning me back. "You accepted her son's Mother's Day gift! She just gave me a kiss.

It's not a big deal!" I had trashed the entire room, shattering everything in sight. But Gemma treated my meltdowns like an entertaining game.

Every time Nolan showed me affection, she draped herself over my husband.

She hid safely behind Tristan's broad shoulders, a sickeningly sweet smile on her face, watching me lose my mind again and again.

Now, Gemma glanced down at Nolan sprawled on the floor.

She didn't even bend down to help him up. "Kinsley, what's wrong?" Gemma pouted. "Nolan adores you. "He just wants to give you a hug.

While you were resting this past month, he cried for you every single day." Tristan strode into the room, holding Zander against his chest. A hard line formed between his brows.

He shot Gemma a dark look. "I told you not to bring him in here." Gemma ushered Nolan out the door. Then she stepped right up to Tristan, slipping her arm through his.

She leaned her head against his shoulder. "I just thought Kinsley would want to hold her own son." She knew. She had known all along that Tristan had told me the truth.

She paraded Nolan in here purely to torture me. I grabbed the heavy glass vase from the nightstand. I hurled it straight at her face. Tristan yanked Gemma out of the way.

The vase shattered against the wall. The veins in Tristan's neck bulged. "Kinsley, are you insane?!" "Yes!" I lunged forward. I wrapped my hands around Gemma's throat.

A brutal force slammed into my stomach. Tristan's boot connected with my abdomen. Whether it was an accident or on purpose didn't matter.

The impact hit right where I was still healing. It felt like my womb was being ripped open all over again. A cold sweat drenched my spine.

I curled into a tight ball on the floor, gasping for air. "Kinsley…" The rage in Tristan's eyes faltered. He took a halfstep toward me.

Thick, choking black smoke suddenly rolled through the doorway. "Fire! The house is on fire!" Screams erupted from the hallway. Tristan didn't hesitate for a single second.

He grabbed Gemma's hand. He sprinted out the door. I lay on the floor, my body weak from childbirth and paralyzed by the agonizing pain in my stomach. I couldn't move an inch.

Smoke filled my lungs. The world tilted into darkness. Heavy footsteps pounded through the haze. A tall silhouette burst into the room. "Kinsley!

Where are you!" I forced my stinging eyes open. I squinted through the gray fog. The man's face came into focus. All the blood froze in my veins. My muscles locked.

Memories of that suffocating dark room bit into my skull like venomous snakes. "Don't touch me! Don't touch me!" A raw shriek ripped from my throat. I thrashed wildly.

Kael tackled me to the ground. He pinned my arms and legs down with a crushing grip. Just like he did in that dark room. "Stop moving!

Do you want to die?" Being touched by him was a million times worse than burning alive. I clawed. I kicked. I screamed until my vocal cords bled. My stomach revolted.

I dryheaved, retching onto the floor. We reached the front lawn. Kael's arms were covered in bloody scratches from my fingernails. He dumped me onto the hard grass.

I hit the ground with a sickening thud. The world went black. When I finally opened my eyes, the stark white ceiling of a hospital room greeted me. Tristan wasn't by my bed.

He only gave me a phone call. "I'm sorry.

Gemma was standing right next to me, and I had Zander in my arms… "But the second I got outside, I yelled for Kael to go back in and get you… I'm swamped right now. "I have to take care of Zander and deal with the fire investigators.

Kael will stay at the hospital and look after you for now." Chapter 4 "Tristan, what did you just say? You know exactly what he did…" The words scraped against my throat.

My vocal cords seized up. Tristan let out a sharp exhale. "Stop being so dramatic.

It happened a long time ago." A highpitched voice filtered through the speaker. "Tristan, I need to use the restroom! Come carry me!" Gemma. The line went dead.

A dial tone buzzed against my ear. The ground dropped out from under me. He wasn't just busy with Zander. He was busy playing nurse to Gemma's twisted ankle.

He chose to drag her out of the fire. He chose to dote on her. And he tossed me to my rapist. He let him play the hero. Let him play the caretaker.

The fiveyearold blade buried in my chest twisted, ripping open old scar tissue. My lungs burned. A silent scream tore up my throat, but no sound came out.

And Tristan called me dramatic. Kael poured a cup of water from the plastic pitcher. A sickeningly smug smirk stretched across his face as he held it out to me. I slapped it away.

Water splashed across his dress shirt, soaking the cuff.

His smirk didn't budge. "Don't be so hostile." He leaned closer. "They say one night of passion creates a hundred days of affection.

So, how many days of affection do we have tallied up?" The metallic taste of blood flooded my mouth. I chewed the inside of my cheek raw.

My fingers locked into the white hospital sheets until my knuckles turned stark white. Kael's gaze dropped to my bleeding lip.

A dark hunger flashed in his eyes. "You still love biting your own mouth, don't you?" He reached a hand toward my face. Pure fightorflight hijacked my brain.

I grabbed the glass vase off the nightstand and smashed it against the metal bed frame.

I snatched a jagged shard of glass and slashed it blindly across his outstretched arm. "Get the hell out!" The sharp edge sliced deep into my own palm.

Hot blood dripped onto the linoleum floor. I didn't feel a thing. Kael stepped back. His eyes widened. He turned and walked right out the door. Discharge day.

Tristan finally showed up. He carried a bouquet of my favorite begonias.

He drove us straight to our old datenight restaurant and ordered the spicy Mapo Tofu I'd been craving my entire postpartum recovery.

On the drive home, he talked a mile a minute about Zander. A huge grin was plastered across his face. To him, even getting peed on during a diaper change was an absolute blessing.

I stared out the passenger window. My chest was a hollow, empty cavern. We passed the county courthouse.

I spoke my first words of the day. "I want a divorce." Tristan slammed on the brakes.

The tires screeched against the asphalt. "What did you just say?" He whipped his head toward me. His pupils dilated, his face going slack.

Five years ago, even when I caught him cheating, I hadn't dared to leave. Now, the word slipped right off my tongue. His phone lit up in the center console.

A text message. [ Are you busy today? Kinsley is getting discharged. Do you need me to go pick her up?—Kael ] A dark, ugly red flushed up Tristan's neck.

The muscles in his jaw ticked rapidly. "Is that why you want a divorce?

Because of him?" He gripped the steering wheel until the leather creaked. "It's only been a few days, and you're already hooking up with him again!" He leaned across the console, trapping me against the door. "What?

You found out you share a kid, and you just couldn't wait to crawl right back into his bed? "Did you miss the feeling of him forcing himself on you?

You slut!" The words struck me like an openhanded slap. A tremor rocked my shoulders. This was exactly how he viewed me. "I didn't—" Tristan unbuckled his seatbelt.

His heavy frame boxed me into the passenger seat, cutting off all my oxygen. "You love it when men force themselves on you, don't you!" He grabbed the collar of my blouse.

The fabric ripped. Buttons popped off and bounced against the dashboard.

His teeth sank into the skin of my neck. "Tristan, let go of me!" I shoved my palms against his chest, throwing all my weight forward, and cracked a hard slap across his cheek.

I glared right into his eyes. "Get out! Go find your bastard lover!" Bloodshot veins spiderwebbed across the whites of his eyes. He shoved the passenger door open and pushed me out.

I stumbled onto the curb. My blouse hung open. Pedestrians stopped and stared at my exposed skin. The engine roared. His tires squealed as he sped away.

I wrapped my arms around my chest, gripping the torn edges of my shirt together. I ignored the burning whispers and pointed fingers, dragging my feet down the pavement toward home.

The house that burned down wasn't just a house. It was a climatecontrolled smart home Tristan had bought specifically for my postpartum recovery. Back then, he took care of me.

He took care of the baby. Even with a hired night nurse, he did everything himself. Now, the house was a pile of ash. That perfect, quiet illusion burned down right along with it.

Chapter 5 I pushed the front door open and walked straight into the living room. Tristan and Gemma were tangled together on the sofa.

They didn't even flinch or pull apart when I walked in. I didn't give them a second glance. I bypassed the couch and headed straight for the bedroom.

I was tossing clothes into a suitcase when Gemma strolled in. She wore a sheer, barelythere lace slip.

Dark, blooming hickeys painted her exposed collarbones and thighs. "Kinsley, my husband slept with you for free for all those days. I've only slept with Tristan twice.

I'm still coming up short." I kept my mouth shut. I grabbed a stack of shirts and shoved them into the bag. My silence wiped the smirk off her face.

She marched over, snatched the tiny sweater I had handknit for my first baby off the bed, and dropped it to the floor. She ground her heel into the soft yarn. "He's dead.

What's the point of keeping this trash?" She leaned in, lowering her voice into a sickly whisper. "You didn't know, did you?

While Tristan was playing house and taking such good care of you during your postpartum recovery, I told him I had a nightmare. "I told him your dead baby's ghost was coming after me.

And guess what?" My hands froze over the suitcase.

A vicious, triumphant smile stretched across Gemma's face. "Without a second thought, he took your baby's ashes, hired some shady spiritualist, and buried the urn deep in the dirt right next to the city dump to trap his soul…" A grenade went off in my skull.

I tackled her to the hardwood floor. I ripped at her hair. I clawed at her face.

My fingers clamped down on her windpipe like a vice, squeezing with every ounce of strength I had left. Tristan bolted into the room.

He yanked me backward by my shoulders and backhanded me across the face. A highpitched ringing pierced my eardrums. He slammed a stack of papers onto the vanity table.

The divorce agreement. His signature was already slashed across the bottom line. "You better think this through, Kinsley.

If you divorce me, do you really think Kael is going to marry you?" I let out a dry, cracked laugh. I didn't even look at him. I picked up the pen and signed my name.

Tristan's jaw clenched so hard a muscle twitched in his cheek. A loud wail pierced the tension. Zander was awake. He was hungry.

Tristan stared down at me with eyes like chips of ice. "I get full custody of Zander." He pointed toward the crib. "Since you're leaving, you can breastfeed him one last time." I stared at him in disbelief.

I had never breastfed. Zander had been strictly on formula since day one. I pumped and dumped everything.

I remembered when the night nurse made a snide comment under her breath. "So cruel.

She'd rather dump the milk down the drain than feed her own child." Tristan fired her on the spot. He had held my hand and comforted me. "Kinsley, it's okay.

I know you're terrified of the pain.

Formula has just as many nutrients as breastmilk…" Now, he scooped Zander out of the crib and shoved him toward my chest, treating me like nothing but breeding livestock. "I'm not feeding him!" I grabbed the handle of my suitcase and turned toward the door.

A brutal grip clamped around my wrist, jerking me to a halt. "You're going to feed him whether you want to or not." His voice dropped to a lethal, freezing pitch.

He dumped the screaming baby onto the mattress. He grabbed both of my wrists and wrenched them behind my back, pinning them in a crushing, onehanded grip.

A sickening rip tore through the room. He grabbed the collar of my torn shirt and ripped it open. I thrashed wildly against his iron grip. "Tristan! You bastard!

Let go of me!" Chapter 6 Kael followed the noise. He and Gemma stood right in the doorway, watching. Tristan didn't stop.

His iron grip on my wrists didn't loosen a fraction of an inch. Zander's gums clamped down greedily.

The last shattered pieces of my dignity turned to dust. "Why…" My voice was a broken, wet rasp. "Why are you doing this to me…" Tristan leaned down.

His hot breath brushed my ear. "Kinsley, look. Look how happy Zander is." His voice was a sickeningly sweet whisper. "Could you really bear to leave him without a mother?" Pain.

Searing, humiliating pain. I squeezed my eyes shut. Hot, stinging tears leaked through my lashes, tracking down my temples into my hairline.

An eternity dragged by before the crushing pressure on my wrists finally vanished.

Tristan released me. "Think it over, Kinsley." He stood up and adjusted his cuffs. "Me and the baby.

Can you really throw us both away?" He scooped up the milkdrunk baby and strode out the door.

Gemma and Kael, having enjoyed their frontrow seats to the show, trailed right behind him. I lay paralyzed on the ruined sheets like a discarded ragdoll. My tears dried up.

He asked if I could bear to leave them. How could I not? Him. I didn't want him anymore. The baby. I didn't want him either. I dragged myself off the mattress.

I pulled on a fresh blouse, buttoning it all the way up to my collarbone.

I pulled a folded medical document from my bag and set it flat on the vanity table, right next to the signed divorce papers.

Then, I grabbed the handle of my suitcase and walked out of that freezing hellhole. … Tristan pushed the bedroom door open again.

He expected to see Kinsley on her knees, crying and begging for his forgiveness. Instead, a dead, hollow silence greeted him. The closet doors hung wide open. Her suitcase was gone.

She actually signed the papers. She actually left. He grabbed a heavy glass ashtray and hurled it against the wall. The glass shattered into a hundred pieces.

Then, his eyes locked onto the papers on the vanity table. His face turned the color of ash.

His hand trembled as he snatched up the thin, crisp sheet of paper sitting next to the divorce agreement. A DNA test. It was a paternity test for him and Zander.

Tristan's eyes nailed themselves to the final line of ink at the bottom of the page. [ Probability of Paternity: 0.00%.

The tested parties, Tristan and Zander, do not share a biological relationship. ] The world went terrifyingly quiet