My Boyfriend Talked Me Into Surrogacy — Then Stole My Payout
Part 1
I rubbed my sweaty palms against my worn jeans, staring at the eviction notice taped to my door.
The landlord had banged on the wood for ten straight minutes before finally leaving.
My rent was three months past due.
Graduating from university was supposed to be my ticket out of poverty.
Instead, it handed me a useless degree and a mountain of unreturned job applications.
My stomach let out a hollow growl, reminding me I hadn’t eaten since yesterday’s plain rice.
My phone vibrated in my pocket.
Tyler’s name flashed across the cracked screen.
He was the only good thing in my life, the guy who promised to marry me once we both found our footing.
I swiped the green icon, holding the device to my ear.
Tyler’s voice rushed through the speaker, breathless and excited.
He claimed he found a job for me, a contract position paying an unbelievable sum.
Ten million naira for nine months of work.
My heart slammed against my ribs.
That kind of money could buy my mother her medications for years.
It could pay off my debts, set us up for a real future, and finally let me breathe.
I begged him for the details.
The line went quiet for a few seconds before he dropped the bombshell.
It was surrogacy.
A wealthy, anonymous client needed a healthy woman to carry their child.
Panic immediately tightened my throat.
I had never even been with a man before.
Tyler quickly explained the medical process, assuring me it didn’t involve any physical contact with the client.
He promised we would use the money to build our lives together, travel abroad, and escape this wretched neighborhood.
His smooth reassurances slowly chipped away at my fear.
The thought of seeing my mother healthy again pushed me over the edge.
I agreed.
The clinic smelled intensely of bleach and sterile packaging.
Bright fluorescent lights reflected off the pristine white floors, making my cheap sandals look even dirtier.
A polished administrator slid a thick stack of contracts across the mahogany desk.
She explained that the intended parent required absolute confidentiality.
Tyler leaned over my shoulder, tapping the signature line with a borrowed pen.
He had positioned himself as my brother, managing the paperwork and the payments so I wouldn’t have to stress.
I signed my name at the bottom of every page, trusting him completely.
The administrator handed me a transport allowance of one hundred and fifty thousand naira.
Tears blurred my vision as I clutched the crisp notes.
It was more cash than I had ever held in my life.
Tyler wrapped his arms around me, kissing the top of my head.
He told me everything was going to be perfect.
I paid my rent that afternoon, bought a proper meal, and finally sent money home.
Weeks turned into a blur of hormone injections, mild cramping, and endless anxiety.
The doctor eventually confirmed the procedure was successful.
I was pregnant.
A strange flutter of protectiveness stirred in my chest, even though the baby wasn’t biologically mine.
I reached for my phone, dialing Tyler’s number to share the good news.
The automated voice told me the subscriber was unreachable.
I tried again, pacing the length of my tiny room.
Still nothing.
A cold knot formed in my stomach.
I called his best friend, begging for any information.
The friend sounded confused, asking why I didn’t know Tyler had boarded a flight to Ghana that very morning.
My phone slipped from my sweaty fingers, hitting the floor with a sharp crack.
I grabbed my bag and rushed straight to the surrogacy agency.
The receptionist led me into the manager’s office.
My hands shook as I demanded to know when the initial payment would be released.
The manager adjusted her glasses, frowning at her computer screen.
She stated the funds had been transferred yesterday.
Twenty million naira, completely paid out.
Because of my pristine health record, the anonymous client had doubled the initial offer.
Tyler had collected the entire sum and vanished.
The room spun around me.
The agency manager slid a fresh copy of the contract across the table.
She pointed to the section where I had legally authorized Tyler to receive all compensation on my behalf.
I had been sold out by the man I loved.
