The Billionaire's Betrayed Love.

19: A Shocking Reveal.

ALMA

"I'm pregnant. I'm carrying Carl's child," Linda revealed with a big smile, and all air was suddenly sucked from my lungs. And it choked out, weighing the word from edge to edge to see if a knife was twisted in between them and why it was directed straight to my chest.

The shock punched me in the face, and I gawked stupidly, trying hard to retain an unfazed exterior, but that wasn't working out well for me. Never in a thousand years would I have hoped to be present when this kind of revelation occurred. I'd never thought of it, nor prepared for it, so frankly, I was left blank.

Why was I so disgusted that she was pregnant? Why did it make me so bad? My heart thumped at a doubled pace, and I couldn't keep from looking at Carl, who had that expression of shock etched on his face. His green eyes widened, and he glared at Linda for a while, before looking at me and catching my eyes on him.

I tensed up and looked away immediately, forcing a fake smile that contradicted the jungle party that went on in my stomach. I didn't want to get zoomed in on and tagged as the villain in their love story. My reputation was the main reason I was here in the first place. I seem to have forgotten that. Breathe, Alma. Breathe.

"Oh my!" The reporter chimed excitedly. "That's beautiful news, especially considering the fact that a lot of people have been expecting a Harrison junior! Congratulations to you both! This news just made our interview a hundred times better!"

The director called our attention to the teleprompter that clearly communicated how their ratings had risen by ten percent because of the news of Linda's pregnancy and how he wanted the reporter to continue leaning towards that aspect in order to keep viewers.

This was going to be torture for me. Immense torture.

"Like I said," Linda continued, red in the face and slowly patting her cheeks as she leaned toward Carl and glued to him like a fucking magnet. No, I didn't care. I was just disgusted. "This news wasn't going to be revealed until after the child was born. My big mouth just couldn't keep it to myself. You know, pregnancy and the things it makes you do! It literally clouds my judgment!"

I certainly wasn't an insane bitch when I was pregnant. I wanted to say, but hey, National Television and maintaining a great reputation, right? It was just me and the big bile in the back of my throat against the world, accompanied by Carl's constant and uncomfortable glances.

Jeez. "Miss Alma, how did the news make you feel?"

"That's an inappropriate question," Carl cut in. What was he doing trying to play the good guy? I scoffed and rolled my eyes.

"Babe, it's just a question. That's what the interview is about anyways," Linda argued, shooting daggers with her eyes. "It's about honesty and transparency. Not to mention, I'm also curious as to what she thinks of my relationship with you. If I were in her shoes, I don't think I'd be happy about it either, but who knows? Alma is a do-gooder. She might be different."

Oh, please. "I'll answer my questions by myself, Carl. Please don't interfere, and Linda, I'm not...bothered actually, and I'm very happy about your child on the way. I mean, you and Carl definitely have similar behavioral features, and that makes you the perfect match for each other. You have my blessings and the whole nation's."

Linda didn't seem very happy with my response, and neither did Carl.

She probed. "So you mean you want nothing to do with my husband? You haven't thought of my husband in a romantic light since you got back?"

"He's barely even that," I slurred, but I meant every single word of it. Calling Carl a husband seemed a bit far-fetched. He was a joke. "I mean, he's barely even someone I'd want to have anything to do with, Linda. Pardon this analogy. It's like...chewed beef. It gets to a point where it's no longer pleasing, and the only option is to spit it out. I spat it out, and it...interested you, which I don't blame you for. People like things that glitter."

"So, Miss Alma, you mean you left Mr. Harrison foe...his now wife?" The reporter asked, and I glanced at a seething Linda.

"Yes, in a way."

"This is a complicated love story!"

I darted my attention to the reporter. "It's really not. The only problem here is people are too concerned about what happened in the past rather than the way things are now. This couple is happy in their marriage, and so am I in my life. Capisce?"

"Are you though?" Linda threw at me again. "Are you really happy with your life? You don't seem--"

"How can you tell?" I responded with a half-hearted smile, trying to maintain the tiniest bit of decency that I could. "You already said your...condition clouds your judgment. I wouldn't want to put serious conversations in your hands right now. For the sake of the child, of course."

Carl had been unusually silent since Linda announced her pregnancy. It had seemed like he had something important to say before, and honestly? I didn't feel sorry for his struggle. They will definitely increase, and he was yet to see anything yet. It would get worse until she finally drove him nuts, just as her mother had almost driven my father to madness when he'd first married her.

Linda's jaw clenched, and the fire in her eyes wasn't even hidden. My response got to her, and that was perfect. Her lips quivered for a while before she finally threw her next statement. It was beginning to feel like this was more of an interview about Linda and me than the topic at hand.

"Of course, you know a lot about pregnancy, considering you have a beautiful girl of your own! It must have been so hard doing it all on your own, and we're...yet to meet her father. I'm sure the almighty Alma wouldn't have had a child for a man who was unavailable. I'm waiting to hear the full gist of it, beautiful sister!"

A broken sigh broke from my lips, and my mind went blank. I hadn't thought she'd mention Velma in the conversation after she'd asked me if she was Carl's daughter in the bathroom. I'd told her I lost the C child, thanks to her, and warned her not to mention it, or I shall spill what transpired between the three of us.

Why did I not see that coming? Why had I thought Linda would be decent enough to keep my five-year-old out of this talk? There was nothing I wanted badly than to reach across the table and land a slap to her face! I gritted my teeth, my fake smile retained as I inhaled through my mouth stylishly. "My daughter--"

"Is not the topic of today's discourse," Carl relentingly finished up my sentence. He leaned closer to Linda and pulled her closer, patting her shoulders. "You did well, my love."

His eyes twitched, and that only happened whenever he was lying. He continued to speak. "I think we've done our part here. All questions related to the pictures have been answered, and we've been running around a circle. So, yeah...that will be the end of today's interview. I'd love to leave now and spend the rest of the day with my lovely wife."

Linda's smile widened as she tried to protest. "But, babe-"

The rest of her protest was swallowed into his mouth. He kissed her immediately, with vigor. He kissed her as though he'd been waiting to do so. My heart told me he kissed her to shut her up, but my brain knew better. It hurt.

It hurt like a bitch.

"This is a beautiful and secure marriage!" The rapper announced as she blushed. "I'd kill to have something like this! And that's a wrap. From the responses and reactions we've received today, it is obvious that those pictures were items of the past and don't, in any way, impose on the lives of the people involved!"

Cameras cut. Lights went off, and I picked myself up, eager to get out of this disturbing scene. "Thank you for doing the interview, sis! I will send you a present!" Linda yelled after me, but I didn't stop, or look back.

My car was the closest thing to home at that moment, and my hands spasmed, so I thought to wait a little before going home. My head was thrown back against the headrest, and a heavyweight sat on my chest. I felt the urge to cry, but I knew it wouldn't happen- I cried so much that I couldn't do it anymore.

A tap on my windscreen sent me jolting and sitting up; when I looked at who it was, my nemesis stared back at me with melancholic eyes. Bad idea. Seriously, this was a bad idea.

I wound down the glass a bit. "What do you want?"

"Can you step out for a bit?" Carl asked in a low tone, but I shook my head immediately.

What happened to spending the rest of the day with his lovely, pregnant, and absolutely insane wife? What more did he want from me? "Say whatever it is from there. Make it snappy. I don't have all day."

Where did he keep his wild dog if he was here, staring at me like a puppy in the rain? I wasn't going to fall for it.

He rubbed his forehead and sighed dejectedly. His lips were tightly pursed, and the veins on his head popped as though whatever he wanted to say had a knife to his throat. I was only going to be patient for five seconds.

"Alma, I-"

Three.

"I..."

Two.

And o-

"I'm sorry!" He muttered something under his breath, something that sounded like a curse word. Carl battled nerves, and himself. "Jesus Christ, Alma.. I'm so sorry! I don't want to do this, I don't want to apologize to you in a fucking parking lot or through the open space of a car's window, but there's...just no better place, no better way to tell you that I've been miserable since the day you walked out of my life and it haunts me every night!"

His voice broke mid-word, mid-sentence, and the tears I thought I couldn't cry were knocking at the back of my eye sockets.

"I've been living like shit, Alma! I've been lying to myself about how I felt about you, how I feel about you! I sincerely, from the bottom of my heart, apologize for the way I hurt you. Yes, I know this shitty story does nothing to help, but if it brings you the slightest bit of peace knowing that I'm suffering for my decisions then you should know that I am. I feel sorry, every day, Alma! Every night!"

Do not cry. Not before him; do not cry. My hands steadied around the steering wheel as I readjusted, sitting more upright. I couldn't let him see me break down.

"I'm at peace. Nothing about you is capable of bringing me peace, and your struggles are yours to deal with," I responded coldly, ignoring the bitter bile. "Suck it up and deal with it. Also, you might want to move away from the car before you lose a leg."

His expression faltered, and he gawked at me as though he sought a hint of recognition. I was glad he didn't find any. He wouldn't ever find any.

I wound up immediately and fired the engine, brushing past his limp figure. I made sure I drove far away from the station before the dam broke, and I parked by the roadside to sob like a fool.

I cried. I yelled and hit the car as I remember how terribly I was treated and how no one recognized my struggles, not even him. Suddenly, he thought a shitty apology could sum up those years of pain?

My heart felt like it'd rip at its seams, but I held on pretty well, until my phone, kindly enough, distracted me from my tears with repeated vibrations.

It was from Vanessa, and the content of the message was a dozen dress pictures.

Vanessa: Please pick a choice for the mask ball coming up.

I squinted in confusion as I glanced through, and then another message from her popped up as if she knew I understood nothing of what she said.

Vanessa: It is the 'silly' business party you had declined the invitation for. I thought you might change your mind, ma'am.