GAY Sugar Daddy

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"Cleo texted me to be here before 10."

We spent an hour on the couch last night, which I remember word by word how he confessed he's still feeling uncomfortable to be with me because of this IVF but at the same time he promised he would never abandon me again so he'll try his best to be with me the most he can.

I didn't think it'd be this soon. Like in less than 12 hours since the talk soon.

Last night when I was already asleep, Cleo woke me up around 2 a.m., breaking down because her husband met with an accident at London. It wasn't major according to Mr Montgomery's assistant but she was in a mess that I had to pack all her stuffs while she sobbed on the bed.

"Brought breakfast," he shakes the paper bag he's holding then invites himself in when I'm still standing next to the door, dumbfounded.

The last I've heard from Cleo was at 4 a.m. when she called me from the airport, right before she left in the private jet. She said nothing about this wake-up call service. Which reminds me, "What time is it now?"

He's already taking two plates out when he replies, "Nine. I sent Pao to school then I come here rightaway in case you're still not up for our appointment."

"Our appointment?" I hop on the high chair as I watch him carefully plating my breakfast; there's a chocolate muffin, an omelette -my favorite-, bacon and sausages, and two mini pancakes. With a few petals of roses and orchids; him and his plating obsession.

"What? No dry ice this time?" I ask him when he puts the plate in front of me.

He grins, "Save that for dinner tonight."

"Oh? There's a dinner service too? How much did she pay for this package?"

He didn't answer as he's busy ransacking my fridge to look for whatever he intends to find. I don't bother much and eat my food, only to realise I've been staring at his ass the whole time he's backing me. Shit.

No wonder I feel hungrier than usual. No wonder the food taste like heaven.

"It's like the one I always make for you but this time I change mango to apples," he tells me the moment he puts a glass of smoothie next to my plate.

Even the sound of my smoothie blender couldn’t shake my thoughts off his sexy toned butt. For the fact he’s wearing a pair of jeans that’s not even tight! Damn. My imagination has really gone to places despite it’s still early in the morning.

“Because I can only find apples and lemons in there. We have to do grocery shopping after the appointment.”

I nod when he says it with his eyes looking straight at me. Alright.

Wait. Now grocery shopping?

He must have seen the confusion so he clarifies, “I mean appointment, pick up Princess Pao, lunch, then grocery shopping. Hey Siri, add mango to the shopping list."

He opens the fridge again then continues adding stuffs to the list, while I try my best to comprehend what I just heard. Appointment, pick up Princess Pao, lunch, grocery shopping. And there's dinner with the dry ice too.



"You're here because..."

"I'm your male Cleo." The way he says it while still minding his business with the fridge, I just, uhh, "Male Cleo?"

He finally turns around to look at me, at my confused-plus-surprised face.

Yes I am very much confused, very much surprised right now, "Did I say anything last night? I mean about this. Did I? Because I don't think-"

"Cleo called me when she's on her way to the airport. She asked me to take care of you while she's gone,” Awww I have the best best-friend ever, “Which is the wisest thing to do. I'm the prefect guy for this job. I've done this three times with you, remember?"

Oh how could I ever forget.

"It'd be much easier if we can stay at my place since I do have a guest room ready for you, and Pao's there so I don't have to come here back and forth every day but hey, anything you're comfortable with, okay Precious? I'm good with travelling, I have Philip to take me anywhere. And Nancy can handle Pao for a few days so don't worry, I've got this. We've got this." He winks.

He fucking winks, when I'm trying to catch the words and process them as fast as I can.

"So... you're my babysitter now?"

"Yes baby, yes I am." He winks again, then turns around to the fridge to continue his grocery list.


How I wish I have Cleo by my side right now, because I feel so embarrassed to have Owen next to me when the doctor revealed the bad news.

Suddenly it's like nine years ago when the doctor told us about my low egg reserve. Or the moment when we were told I only had five mature eggs during the ultrasound.

And now, the nightmare is back, but it has gone worse than I've ever imagined.

"What we normally do is to cancel this cycle, cancel the egg retrieval." I can't help but to tear up upon hearing the word cancel. So I'm beyond saving?

"I'm sorry Estelle but we only have two viable follicles. The minimum count for egg retrieval we practice here is three so I suggest we cancel this cycle."

A strong hand pulls me to a warm chest. I do feel the support he provides but I can't help but let go more tears. From ten to two, is this God's hint for not wanting me to have my own baby?

"But the good thing is, I now know this cocktail doesn't work for you. So for the next cycle, I'll administer a different dosage, different protocol." It sounds like a promise, that it will be a success if we were to try again.

"So what's gonna happen to the two I have now? Can't we just harvest it?" I had to ask, because there is no guarantee the next cycle would give a different result. A better result.

"We can. We put a condition to harvest only if there is three or more mature eggs, mainly because of the high cost. I understand money is not an issue for you, but the percentage of success is very low."

"But there is still a chance of success."

She keeps quiet then looks at the man who's holding me, as if wanting him to back her up.

"I think we better put the money for the next cycle," she continues when Owen remains silent, "But if you insist on continuing, perhaps we can go with IUI or timed intercourse, which is much cost efficient."

"I don't want cost efficient, I want a baby." There's a reason why I'm this successful at such a young age; because of my stubbornness and my determination.

"I don't care if I'm burning my money, but I want to proceed with the IVF." I'm not giving up, if there is still a chance of success. Never.


"I have all the money in the world if you wanna go for a thousand IVF cycles. I don't mind being poor if it means I can give you a baby. But you're not in your right mind. There's a reason why she suggested to cancel."

"I don't need your opinion, Owen. It's my money, my body, my baby. If it fails, at least I know I tried my best. I fought for it. If you don't wanna be on my side, you can leave. I don't need you Owen. I don't fucking need you!"

He runs his fingers through his hair, showing how stressed he is at this situation. But I don't care. This is my life. I get to decide what to do with it. You can't just march into my home in the morning and two hours later demand me to drop it. No.

"I'm not leaving." He whispers in defeat, looking at me with a white flag.

"I'll never leave again, no matter what."

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