Like A Millionaire (Freddie Mercury + Cherie series) FINAL BOOK

4.) You Had to Kill the Conversation

"Just a fling. She means nothing." I say, following her through the hallway as we make our way into the kitchen.  "Just a mistake. I honestly didn't even know it was happening, I was so pissed—"

"Doesn't matter," she waves. "Who am into judge?"

She cuts me off and for a moment I had forgotten our entire situation. I forgot that she doesn't love me. She's not in love with me anymore, anyway.

"Right." I try to play off my sudden realization.

"I said I'd call you just as soon as he—," she makes eyes at me after abruptly answering her phone. As if telling me it's time to leave. She can come off so cold these days.

"Yes, in just a minute," She hisses into the phone. "I'll show you when you get here...," she hesitates a moment, then walks away. My guess is to coddle the leech on the other end of the line.

Just as soon as I decide to leave with my tail tucked between my legs. I notice a roll of photographs....sprawled out on the counter...

I shouldn't look. But I have to. It takes everything in me to contain myself for a couple of fleeting seconds, but ah... that common sense doesn't even win!

I grab the photos, lay them out flat in front of me...

An ultrasound scan...I suspected as much, but... it's just..

"Freddie? What are you still doing here—," she quits the cold stare for a moment when she realizes I'm looking at the black and white outline of my heartbreak.

"Oh, uh," At a loss for words, hmm. Not very typical for her. she has such a sympathetic look in her eyes. She's here now. My girl. In this moment. With that face— but she's clearly moved on...

I stiffen up, feeling the ice box pleading with my bleeding heart to come and take itself a break. A temporary hesitation keeps us silent before I place the scan photos back down pretending not to have missed a beat.

"Congratulations, my Angel," A tight smile. "A little girl...," A cruel thought jots across my mind.

Do I dare?
Or should i keep it to myself.

"I didn't think you'd actually look through my stuff—"

"Our stuff."

"W-what?," she looks at me, momentarily confused. That is until my big mouth meets my big brain and zaps the neurons in between to tumble down into a new low— even for me.

"I should see to it that our daughter's scans are normal and healthy, wouldn't you say so, love?"

Well, I've said it now. There's no taking it back.

I step away, trying to walk out of the load my own mouth was dropping.

"Don't be ridiculous, Fred," she crosses her arms, brow raised in defense.

She's acting disgusted. Why does she have to look as though the thought of another child by me would be such a blasphemous thing? She's only baiting me further.

"Until we are completely over—"

"Oh, we are sooo over, Freddie!," I'll admit that hurt. Badly. "I'm having another mans child—"

"Tsk. Tsk.," I shake my finger at her. I can't help the smirk. It's harmless...well on my end of things it is. But, Cherie's close to tears. I hate to be cruel.

"Our child! She's ours!," I take a breath. Trying to reel myself back to firm ground. My knees feel shaky, my adrenaline is pumping. My mouth keeps trudging on.... "That is legally true, you know, as long as you're my wife..."