ISN'T SHE LOVELY | hs

1 | RIOT GIRL

| HARRY |
Sunday 15th May, 2022

"Hey, Mickayla is it? Lovely name. How's it going? Good, good, can I please borrow your womb?" I'm rehearsing quietly to myself for the hundredth time today and the millionth time this week, still trying my best to get it right.

It's all wrong, though, my hand now running down my face with exasperation as I let out a heavy sigh knowing so, "God no. You can't say it like that, idiot."

I'm fucking nervous. I should've turned my tea Irish like Ariza suggested yesterday, even if he doesn't know the reason behind my stress. His answer to everything is always booze.

Taking a sip of it now, I grumble at how non-alcoholic the drink is while staring out across one of the Heath's many ponds. I'm sitting by my favourite one, though, on my favourite bench, just like I do at least once a week. It's the most perfect and peaceful place on Earth in my opinion, although I feel like I've tainted it slightly today with my abnormal anxiety levels.

This meeting has been pencilled into my diary for a little over a week now. My tense state hasn't lessened with each day that's passed by since.

Sarah told me to stay relaxed, that Mickayla knows exactly what my proposition is, but that's easy for her to say. She doesn't have to meet with a stranger to ask them to be a surrogate. Hell, I don't even think I can ask it, and I'm the one that has to. Every way I've rehearsed it just feels weird. I should've told my Mum about it and brought her to ask Mickayla on my behalf.

Going the surrogacy route was her suggestion a few months back, one I brushed off at first and didn't return to thinking about until a couple of weeks ago. I had no clue where to start on that journey and as desperate as I am to become a Dad, I had more cons than pros on my list when it came to that avenue. It's why I put it off for so long.

I did my research, as any sensible person should do, and found myself hooked up on the stories where surrogates struggled to give up the child afterwards. Of course, I can empathise with that because it's a completely natural thing to happen, but I just selfishly didn't want it to happen to me. I'm not looking for a mother for my child. I just want to be a father. More than anything.

I've always been great with kids. From a young age, I begged my Mum's friends to let me babysit their young ones. When my own friends started having babies, I was one of the few people that stuck around. You always hear new parents saying that you don't know who your true friends are until you have a child, but I've proved my loyalty time and time again. It's how I've ended up with three godchildren, all of whom I love fiercely, but I want my own. I've wanted my own for the longest time.

Becoming a Dad seemed like it was on the cards for me a handful of years ago when I met Alicia, but now I know I was silly to think such a thing. The woman didn't have a maternal bone in her body and always screwed her face up whenever I even mentioned my godbabies, never mind brought them around her. She'd all but run away.

I should've known it from the get-go that she didn't want kids, and it's totally fine that she felt that way. Her body, her choice. I just wish I'd known sooner, wish I'd asked her early on in the relationship. We could've prevented a lot of fights and saved ourselves a lot of heartache, too. Four years worth is fucking exhausting.

I've been single for two years now and plan on keeping it that way for, well, forever. It turns out I'm not a relationship person; not after Alicia. She kind of ruined the concept for me because not only did we have opposite opinions on our futures, but she was too busy cementing hers with someone else.

I found out that she was cheating on me for the last year of our relationship. Sarah saw Alicia with another guy and, like the good friend she is, she told me immediately. She even helped me smash up Alicia's car, too. I bought it for her, so it was only right that I was allowed to break it.