Ayla let out a deep sigh as the car came to a halt in front of a magnificent building. The door to the penthouse, prepared especially for her, opened, and Ayla stepped out, her heart still filled with doubt. A luxurious apartment awaited her a place adorned with opulence yet her heart remained hollow. She felt uneasy, ensnared in a decision made for a future she couldn't clearly envision.
Upon entering the penthouse, Ayla was taken aback by the sheer size of the place. Every facility was present: a spacious living room with large windows overlooking the city, and a bedroom equipped with every comfort imaginable. But accompanying her arrival was something even more significant awaiting on the living room table something that would bind her to an agreement she couldn't evade.
On the table lay a neatly arranged document, complete with official seals. Ethan sat nearby, accompanied by a lawyer who appeared to be the family's attorney, and Cannor, the man always by Ethan's side.
"You need to read and understand everything, Ayla," Ethan said in a low voice. "This is an important step. After this, we'll move forward and do what's necessary."
Ayla looked at Ethan, blinking. She felt as if she stood at the edge of a cliff, unsure of where to step. Yet, she knew she had to face it, whether with fear or reluctance. Ayla approached, sat in the provided chair, and began to open the first page of the agreement.
"Everything we've agreed upon is written here," Ethan's firm voice filled the room. "But before you decide anything, make sure you fully understand."
Ayla began reading. With each page, her heart grew more uncertain, yet one thing was clear: every sentence in the document outlined significant benefits for her, not just in her career, but also financially and personally. A house, a car, and even the possibility of opening her own hospital or clinic, should she choose to.
However, one condition felt burdensome, and Ayla sensed it from the start. The agreement stipulated that she must meet with her child monthly, even though she was no longer breastfeeding. Ayla read that section repeatedly, trying to digest the reality written there.
"I can't accept this," Ayla said, her voice weaker than she had hoped. "I've told you, I don't want any ties. I don't want to feel like I have a child and end up being labeled a homewrecker. I also don't want him to know about his true identity. Haven't I told you not to let him find out who he really is?" Ayla asked, looking seriously at Ethan.
Ethan gazed at her with understanding. "Ayla, I understand. But these meetings aren't meant to burden you. They're to maintain balance. I want this child to know he has a mother who carried and nursed him with love, even if he doesn't grow up beside you."
Ayla fell silent for a moment. "But I don't want to be tied anymore. I've sacrificed enough for all of this. I don't want to form a bond with that child. I've already made enough sacrifices."
Ethan's family lawyer, who had been silent, now spoke up. "Ayla, I understand your concerns. But you must realize this isn't just about you and Ethan. It's about the child's future. You and Ethan have committed to ensuring this child doesn't feel a loss, including his identity."
Cannor added, "And I want to make sure you won't be labeled as a homewrecker. We'll protect you from that. Whatever happens out there, we'll take responsibility. No one should slander you."
Ayla looked at them, feeling pressured. "But this is too much. If I accept this, if I sign this agreement, I'll become part of something bigger. Something that could destroy my life. How can I know if all of this is truly in my best interest?"
Ethan rose from his seat, approached, and sat beside Ayla. His voice was softer this time, yet still carried undeniable firmness. "Ayla, this isn't just about us. I can't change the past, and I won't force you to be more involved in my life than you want. But this child, he's innocent. I want him to know he has a mother who cares for him, even if it's only through brief meetings."
Ayla exhaled slowly, holding back her emotions. "What about your wife? She has more right to be known as his mother than I do. Think about your wife too," she said, her face tense, her eyes reflecting deep doubt.
Ethan looked at her directly, seriously. "She has her place. She will continue to be the mother of our child the one who will be with him every day as he grows. But you're also his mother, Ayla. The mother who risked her life to give birth to him. Our child will have two mothers, and I don't see that as a problem."
Ayla fell silent, her eyes scanning the lines of the agreement in her hands. Everything seemed like an offer too good to refuse: a luxurious home, a personal vehicle, and facilities enabling her to open her own medical practice. A stable and established life all packaged in one agreement now awaiting her signature.
However, what weighed heaviest on Ayla wasn't the numbers or the facilities offered. It was the bond the connection between her and the child she had given birth to. A child born from an impulsive decision, from an uncorrectable mistake. She had never planned to become a mother, especially not in such a complicated situation.
After some time, Ayla looked at the document with resolute eyes. "I'll sign it," she finally said, her voice heavy yet firm.
Ethan nodded slowly. His face showed relief, as if a significant burden had been slightly lifted from his chest. "Thank you."
Ethan's family lawyer immediately documented all the decisions made. The document was officially signed, witnessed by parties bound by confidentiality oaths. Once everything was completed, Ayla felt as if she had just passed through a grand gate—a gateway to a life she had never planned.
After everything was settled, Ethan looked at Ayla again. This time with a different gaze, warm, yet deep. "Thank you, Ayla," he said again, this time more softly, yet equally sincere.
There was something in his eyes he couldn't hide. Something beyond mere gratitude. Perhaps guilt. Perhaps hope. Or perhaps something even Ethan himself didn't fully understand.
Ayla simply nodded briefly. She didn't know what words to respond with. Her feelings were too complex to be explained in simple sentences. She knew that even though the agreement was finalized, her journey wasn't over. In fact, everything had just begun, and one thing was certain, this decision would change her life forever.