Chapter 2 – The Contract

The next morning Clara woke up in a room that did not feel like hers. Her body was in a new bed, but her mind was still in her old apartment. She remembered the moment she signed the paper. Her name on that page had changed her life. She touched her stomach and whispered, “Nine months.”

A woman in a white coat entered. “Good morning. I’m Dr. Grace. I’ll check on you daily.” Clara nodded quietly. The doctor smiled softly. “Everything will be arranged for you. Just follow the instructions.” When the doctor left, Clara looked around the quiet house. She felt strange, like she was safe but not free.

That afternoon Ethan came to her room. He stood near the door, holding a folder. “You’ll stay here for nine months,” he said in his calm, low voice. “You’ll have regular checkups. The baby’s health is most important.” Clara nodded. “I understand.” Ethan paused, then added, “You cannot go out. You cannot call anyone. This is private.” She looked at him carefully. “What if I want to talk to my friend?” Ethan’s eyes turned cold. “You can’t. It’s part of the agreement.”

Clara looked down. “Alright,” she said softly. Ethan turned to leave but stopped. “If you need something, tell the staff. I’ll make sure you’re taken care of.” He left without another word. Clara sat still, trying to understand her own feelings. She wanted to be strong, but a quiet sadness filled her.

Days passed slowly. The doctor came every morning, checked her pulse, and smiled kindly. Clara asked her once, “Do many women do this?” The doctor looked at her and said, “Not many. It takes courage.” Clara nodded. Courage. She was not sure if she had it, but she wanted to believe she did.

Every meal was served on time. Every night she lay in silence. She wanted to hear music, a voice, something human. Once, she heard Ethan speaking on the phone in another room. His tone was strict, almost cold. “I said I don’t want to talk about it again,” he said. She heard him hang up, and then silence returned.

That night she could not sleep. She sat by the window and whispered, “Why does he live like this?” She thought about his eyes — there was something behind them. Not cruelty, not hate, but deep pain.

The next day Ethan called her to the living room. He was reading some papers. “Sit,” he said. Clara sat across from him. “You’ll get your first payment next week. The rest after birth.” Clara nodded. “Alright.” He looked at her, his expression calm. “Do you have questions?” Clara hesitated. “Why are you doing this? You could adopt.”

Ethan looked away for a moment. “Because I want a child that is mine,” he said slowly. “I lost everything two years ago. I’m trying to build something again.” Clara listened quietly. There was a long silence. She wanted to say something kind but didn’t know what. Finally, she whispered, “I’m sorry for your loss.” Ethan looked surprised. He nodded slightly and said, “Thank you.”

That night Clara thought about his words. I lost everything. She felt something in her heart. Not love, not yet, but understanding.

Weeks moved quietly. She started writing in a small notebook Lena had once given her. She wrote about her feelings, her fears, and her memories. She wrote, I miss the sound of laughter. I miss the city. But I must stay strong.

One afternoon she was walking down the hallway when she heard soft piano notes. She followed the sound. Ethan was sitting at the piano, eyes closed, playing slowly. Clara stopped near the door. “That’s beautiful,” she said softly. Ethan opened his eyes. “My wife loved this song,” he said. “She played it every evening.” Clara stepped closer. “It’s a sad melody.” Ethan nodded. “It is. But it reminds me of her smile.”

They stood there for a while, saying nothing. For the first time, Clara saw the man behind the rules. A man who was broken.

Later that night, Clara sat on her bed and wrote again in her notebook. He is not cruel. He is lost. Maybe I am too.

The next morning, the doctor smiled and said, “You’re doing well, Clara. Keep calm. The baby is growing.” Clara smiled for the first time in many days. She whispered, “Thank you.”

When Ethan came to check on her, she said quietly, “The doctor says everything is fine.” He nodded. “Good.” Then he surprised her by asking, “Are you comfortable here?” She looked at him carefully. “It’s quiet,” she said. He smiled faintly. “Silence can be peaceful, or it can be heavy.” Clara replied, “Sometimes it feels heavy.” Ethan looked at her for a long second and said, “Maybe it will change.”

That small exchange warmed her heart. Later, she thought about those words. Maybe it will change. She didn’t know why, but she believed him.

That night, she dreamed of her old life — Lena laughing, her mother’s photo, the little painting she once sold. When she woke up, tears were on her face. She wiped them away and whispered, “I can do this.”

Nine months suddenly felt both long and short. She didn’t know what waited ahead — pain, joy, or heartbreak. But for the first time since she lost her job, she felt a small light of purpose.

She touched her stomach and said softly, “We’ll be okay.”

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