Billionaire, Let's Divorce!

AIDEN

I rolled around in the swiveling chair I sat in as I replayed the phone call I just had in my head.

She had sounded timid but the excitement and relief was evident in her voice.

"Um hi."

I had remained silent, unable to trust my own voice.

"Aiden, are you there?"

I cleared my throat, "I'm listening."

"Okay. I just called to tell you that the procedure worked."

My heart did a little somersault before she voiced, "I'm pregnant."

I stayed silent for a long while, not sure how to take the news. I was surprised she hadn't even ended the call.

"That's good news," I finally said.

"Yeah," she drawled. There was a short silence then the call ended with a sharp click.

After that call, I'd been unable to get back to work. Unable to stop her words from replaying in my head.

I was happy, no doubt. My daughter now had a higher chance of being saved. A chance of her getting to know me as her father.

But the guilt grew by the second. The way it had been growing since the day the procedure took place. Yet, it did nothing to put a reign on my renewed attraction for Ana.

I had thought I had gotten over. Okay, in all honesty, I knew I had not completely gotten over her but I was getting there. I knew it was only a matter of time before I'd start to love Sharon as she deserved but when Ana returned with the stunning revelation that we had a child... All my efforts were out to vain.

The anger I first felt had reassured me that I would never feel anything for her again but as I spent more time with her, going over reports and tests, the rekindled spark I felt for her had hit me like a sudden punch to the gut. I hadn't seen it coming. And I would never have imagined that it would be this fierce.

As much as I would like to see how Amie was doing, even though she was not yet aware that I was her father, I had to stop myself from visiting her just to suppress the raging want for Ana. Anastasia...

Just the mention of her name fueled my guilt.C0pyright © 2024 Nôv)(elDrama.Org.

It was unfair to Sharon. Since we got married, heck, since the marriage contract was signed, she had been the best. She ignored the attitudes I gave her and stuck with me. She knew I wanted another woman but she gave me time and remained with me, hoping that someday, I would see her the way she had always yearned.

It was simply unfair. And it made me feel like an asshole.

I closed my eyes and rubbed my forehead with my fingers. When I opened them again, I reached for my phone and dialed her number.

I sighed as it went straight to voicemail. Again. It's been like that since I agreed to do what will save my own daughter.

She had a kind heart so she wouldn't go to the extreme to stop me. But she very well will make it hard for me.

Since the day she returned home

drunk, she had became scarce, spending insane hours working with little rest was worried that she

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might harm herself. If she continued to work so much, she would

definitely regret it in the long run.

I've tried to talk to her, to meke her see reason even though she already saw reason but all my efforts were to no avail.

Apart from the first time that she

muttered a succinct, "I don't want to

talk about it," with her gaze fixed on her laptop's screen, she has refused to say a thing to me about itor anything else.

And we had to talk this through. It was the only way we could salvage what was left of our union.

I sighed again. She needs to hear this from me.

Even though she has refused to say anything to me, I continued to update her about every stage and process that Ana and I went through.

Not that she demanded to know it. It

was the guilt that pushed me each time I opened my mouth. Besides, if I wanted this to work, I needed her to see that I was willing to be transparent. She deserves

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The last time, I'd told her that we were waiting to see if the procedure worked out.

Sluggishly, I tidied up my desk and grabbed my car keys.

I managed a nod here and there as my employees greeted me on my way to my car.

Thankfully, there was no traffic so the journey home was swift.

The probability that I'd meet her home was low. I just came home early so I'd catch her if she comes home to pick up something like she does sometimes.

But she was home. I heard her voice and followed it to the kitchen. She had an apple in her hand, her phone trapped between her ear and shoulder as she swiftly dished out instructions.

When she turned and saw me, she froze as though she had just seen a ghost. Then she recoverered herself and continued her array of instructions.

All the while, I pretended to rummage through the fridge. When she ended her call, the kitchen echoed with silence.

"You're back early," I commented lamely in an attempt to break the tense silence.

She nodded.

"Will you go back?"

She shook her head no.

I called out to her when she started to walk out of the kitchen, "The procedure was successful."

She stopped few feet from the door but said nothing. I waited, hoping she would turn back and say something but she didn't.

I cleared my throat. "She's pregnant."

She waited for about a milisecond then she barged out of the kitchen.

I heard her heavy steps as she climbed up the stairs. Then the resounding sound of her slamming her door close reverberated through the house.