Mr Reluctant Billionaire || BWWM

Fifty

I am pregnant.

Three words. Three words I don’t want to be associated with. Brandon’s hand returns to my knee but it weighs a ton, I shrug it off, I don’t want his support. My lung closes, the pressure in my chest spreads. I wheeze, a cold feeling of fear whips through me. My breath catches in my throat, a strangled sound escapes me. I don’t want to be pregnant.

Reaching for something close to me to keep from drowning in this sea of nothingness, my hand closes around thin air and I gasp. The image of the doctor blurs, I cradle my head in my arms and choke on a sob. I don’t want a baby.

“If you want, we could–”

I jump, flailing my arms in protest, we shouldn’t have come. “I don’t want anything.” My chair clatters to the floor, Brandon hisses, a look at his face shows a nail scratch on his cheek. The thin line turns red, looking scarier than it should because of his pale colour. But I don’t apologise, he put the baby in me. Staring at the wall, I ask, “Can we go now?”

Though I asked that, I don’t wait for their responses before storming to the door. I have nothing with me, my purse is inside the car which is locked and if Brandon doesn’t meet me outside, God help me because I’ll be walking home, far, far away from this building.

“Mrs Stark?” The doctor’s pleading tone is the only reason I turn with my hand closed around the knob. I clear my throat. Brandon hasn’t moved an inch from his seat like he is still processing the new development. I can’t. I don’t want to. “Are you on the pill?”

Casting Brandon a furtive glance, my gaze darts to the doctor and I mutter a shaky, “No.” We spoke about it but I never got a chance to explore my options. My heart leaps into a sprint, thumping so hard I have to cough to cover up the sound. “Is there a problem?”

“Well,” he draws out the word, his eyes shifting between me and Brandon. I can’t shake off that feeling of trouble looming over me especially with my darling husband ignoring me and fear seizes my body. “You have an unusual level of oestrogen and progesterone.”

“What?”

He waves my result, I straighten up with a scowl. He is the doctor, not me. “Hormones. They are found in most contraceptive pills.” My jaw hits the floor, I have to place a hand over my mouth. He smiles kindly at me, my lips twitch, I don’t understand. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of but I suggest you stop taking them now you have a baby on its way.”

Forcing a smile on my lips, I nod. “Yeah, I will. Thank you. Thank you for your time.”

With a moronic elegance, I sashay out of his office with an award-winning fake smile plastered on my lips. Brandon is right behind me so he wastes no time in opening the passenger’s door of the car. I hop in, fasten my seatbelt with shaky hands. Why is he taking so long? I raise my head to see him frozen on the spot with his hand still attached to the door handle. Our gaze meets, he snaps out of his trance and sends me a tiny smile.

My breath comes out in measured rasps, the air in the car seems to evaporate once he enters. I count to ten painfully slow and reach for the dashboard to have support for the answers I might hear. I don’t want to relive those moments inside but I need to ask.

“Contraceptive pills. Do you know anything about that?” I ask in a whisper. His grip on the steering frightens me, blood has drained from his palms. “Please don’t lie to me.”

The answer comes in a solemn voice. “Yes.”

Closing my eyes, I force the next question out. “Was it the supplements you flushed?”

“Yes.”

And my breath ceases. I lift a trembling hand to my lips, dig my teeth into my knuckles. The seatbelt tightens around my chest, my throat closes and a shrill sound spills from me. He is lying. He wants to be a better man. Blood rushes to my ears, I heave, clawing at the seatbelt in an attempt to get out of the car. Away from this man I call my husband.