Two weeks later...
Baylee swung her feet slowly beneath the edge of the exam table, her sneakers not quite touching the floor. Her fingers curled into the sides of the paper sheet beneath her as she waited. The sterile room was quiet but filled with a low hum of anticipation.
She was nearly six months pregnant now—her body changing, her emotions sharper, heavier.
Across from her, Niko stood leaned against the wall, his tall frame dressed in work attire, tie loosened, sleeves rolled halfway up. He looked sharp and distracted, flipping through a First-Time Parents magazine without much focus.
It was strange—having him here. Comforting, but dangerous.
She'd invited him for more than just support. She had an ulterior motive, and now that they were alone, she was ready to press her luck.
"So..." She cleared her throat, forcing her tone casual. "Can I ask you a favor?"
"If it's about Lola, the answer is no." He didn't even glance up, eyes still on the page in front of him.
Her shoulders slumped slightly. "Come on, Niko. I..."
"You can't force her to talk to you, Baylee." His tone stayed calm but clipped. "Just let it go."
"I know I can't..." she sighed. "I'm giving up on that, but I just want her to get back the happiness I stole from her."
"Then let her move on." Flip. Another page turned.
She clenched her jaw, the guilt gnawing at her. "I want to get her and Conner back together. Will you help me?"
"Definitely not." He flipped again.
She folded her hands together in front of her like a prayer. "Please... I'm begging—and you know I don't beg. I can't do it without you."
"No." His voice was firmer now. "I won't condone my sister being with a cheater."
"It was all my fault," she said quickly, desperate. "He loves her, and if she could just forgive him, she could have her happiness back."
"She'll find happiness—with someone else."
"People make mistakes, Niko."
He finally looked up. "And not everyone is capable of forgiving, Baylee."
Their eyes locked. Something sharp and unspoken flickered between them—something fragile and close to truth. Her stomach tightened under the weight of it.
Before she could speak again—
Tap, tap.
Dr. Morris entered with a clipboard in hand and a professional smile. "How are we doing today?" he asked, eyes scanning her chart.
"Great..." she replied, forcing a smile that didn't reach her eyes.
"Well," he said, setting the chart aside, "the nurse informs me your blood pressure's a little higher than we'd like. Have you been taking your medication?"
"Yes, sir," she answered quickly.
"Any headaches?"
"Nope."
"Any pain?"
"A little... but nothing serious."
"Have you been resting?"
"For the most part."
The doctor frowned slightly, tone shifting. "Miss Alden... rest is extremely important if you want to have a healthy baby."
YOU ARE READING
BAD WIFE
Lãng mạnExcerpt: Like he was hot or wanted to jump out of his clothes, he takes off his blazer and puts it neatly on the back of his chair. He looses his tie and unbuttons the first few buttons of his shirt. "Clarissa." He breaths out and pinches the bridge...
