My Husband Asked Me to Be a Surrogate Twice Until I Learned Why He Really Needed the Money

my hands on the steering wheel. They are a nurse’s hands, capable and plain, with short nails and a scar on the left thumb from a kitchen accident when Jacob was a baby. They are not young hands anymore. But they are mine, the way everything is mine now, the apartment and the clinic and the group and the mornings and the quiet and the boy asleep upstairs continue reading …