Chapter 19 Chapter 19: Casual Threats
Catherine’s P.O.V
Something ugly twisted in my stomach as the pieces clicked together, slow and painful. “So this,” I said, gesturing vaguely, my voice trembling now, “this whole surrogate situation… she just dropped it on us because you were already warned. Because she knew you wouldn’t say no.”
He didn’t deny it. He just nodded once, stiffly. “She told me it was necessary,” he murmured. “That the family needed an heir, and that I needed to stop being selfish and think about my future.”
I let out a hollow laugh that sounded nothing like humor. “Your future,” I repeated. “By threatening to take it away.”
I stared at him, my heart aching in a way I hadn’t expected, anger and sadness crashing together. “I can’t believe this,” I said. “I knew Lydia was difficult, controlling even, but this?” My voice broke. “How do you become so vicious to your own son? Over one heir?”
Xavier looked down, his shoulders slumping. “She’s always been like this,” he said. “Control first. Love second. If it even comes at all.”
I stepped closer, my chest tight, my words spilling out before I could stop them. “And you’ve just been carrying this alone? Letting her use your fear against you?”
He exhaled shakily. “I didn’t know how to fight her without losing everything,” he admitted. “And now I’ve dragged you into it. That’s what hurts the most.”
I felt tears burn behind my eyes, not just for myself, but for him too. “I’m angry,” I told him honestly.
“I’m angry at her, and I’m angry that she put you in this position.” I paused, my voice softening despite myself. “But I hate that she thinks she can break you like this.”
He looked at me then, really looked at me, and for a moment his voice cracked. “I didn’t want you to see this side of my life,” he said. “I didn’t want you to know how much power she still has over me.”
I reached for his hand, squeezing it tightly. “Well, I see it now,” I said. “And it’s disgusting. No inheritance is worth this kind of cruelty.”
I looked at Xavier and shook my head slowly, the words burning my throat before they finally spilled out. “We are so young,” I told him, my voice trembling despite how hard I tried to steady it. “We are both so young, Xavier. If we had just tried another treatment, or waited another year, maybe two at most, I would have become pregnant. I know I would have. My doctor said it wasn’t impossible. It was just a matter of time.” I laughed softly, but there was no humor in it.
“But Lydia couldn’t wait. She just couldn’t. It was like my body was on a deadline she decided for me.” I pressed my lips together, feeling the sting behind my eyes. “Do you know how that feels? To be told that your time is up when you’re not even done hoping yet.”
Xavier exhaled slowly, rubbing his palms together like he was trying to scrub something invisible off his skin.
“Cathy,” he said quietly, then sighed again when I looked at him. “I know. I know this isn’t fair. I know it hurts.” He hesitated, then met my eyes. “But right now, we don’t have a choice. This is our reality, whether we like it or not.”
I opened my mouth to argue, but he continued before I could. “Fighting it will only make it worse. My mother has already decided. Caroline is coming, and the baby is coming with her. That part isn’t changing.” His voice softened then, almost hopeful.
“Maybe… maybe it won’t be as terrible as we’re imagining. Maybe it’ll even surprise us.”
I let out a sharp breath. “Surprise us how?” I asked. “By reminding me every single day that my body failed at the one thing it was supposed to do?” I swallowed. “By putting a child in my house that isn’t mine, but that everyone will expect me to love like it is?” My voice cracked. “You say surprise like it’s a gift, Xavier, but right now it feels like a punishment.”
He leaned closer, his tone gentle, almost pleading. “That’s not what I mean,” he said quickly. “I mean maybe you and Caroline will get along. Maybe you’ll find some common ground. Maybe it won’t be this constant war you’re expecting.”
He paused, then added, “And maybe… maybe bonding with the child won’t hurt as much as you think. Maybe it’ll help. Maybe it’ll fill some of that emptiness.”
I stared at him, my chest tight. “You’re asking me to be optimistic about losing something I’ve been dreaming about my whole life,” I whispered. “You’re asking me to smile and play house while I’m still grieving.” I wiped at my cheek angrily.
“I wanted our baby, Xavier. Ours. Not a situation. Not a compromise.”
He nodded slowly, his eyes heavy. “I know,” he said. “And I’m so sorry you’re going through this. I wish I could change it. I really do.” His voice dropped. “But since I can’t, all I can do is hope that somehow, in the middle of all this mess, you might find a way to be okay. Even if it takes time.”
I looked away then, my voice barely audible. “I don’t know how to be okay with this,” I said. “I don’t even know where to start.”
Xavier reached for my hand and squeezed it gently. “Then we’ll start wherever you are,” he said. “Together. Even if it’s painful. Even if it’s slow.”
I nodded faintly, though my heart still felt unbearably heavy, and whispered, “I hope you’re right.”