She Was Never Just a Pretty Face novel Chapter 156

Luther stared at her pregnant belly for a long time.

When he finally spoke, his voice was barely a whisper. "Whose is it?"

It was early morning.

Hearing his question, Hilda couldn't help but give a bitter smile. He always seemed to be asking whose child it was.

Instead of answering directly, she asked, "Can I help you?"

Luther's voice turned icy. "I said, whose child?"

Hilda didn't answer.

Her silence was an admission.

She was clearly showing, meaning she had to have gotten pregnant around the holidays—when they were still together. Luther realized the truth almost instantly, his Adam's apple bobbing sharply. In that moment, he completely forgot about Jolie, even forgot about his dying grandmother. Only one thought consumed him:

They were divorced, and Hilda was carrying his child.

His tone became harsh. "When did you find out you were pregnant?"

Hilda didn't hide it. "After the holidays, the first time you brought up divorce."

Luther locked his eyes on her face.

The golden morning light poured over her, dusting her skin in a golden glow.

It highlighted her flawless bone structure.

Her features were delicate and exquisite; even in pregnancy, she was breathtakingly beautiful.

But she didn't belong to him anymore.

And she was carrying his child.

When he spoke again, there was a barely perceptible tremor in his voice. "Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't you say you were pregnant? Why did you lie to me and say you were with Harrell? Hilda, tell me why."

Hilda lowered her gaze and smiled.

"Tell you?"

"Would it have made a difference?"

"Luther, didn't we already have a child together? If you had cared about Annie even a little, you wouldn't have thrown us out so casually."

"Left us with absolutely nothing."

"Tell me, how is that any different from kicking us to the curb?"

"Did you ever treat me like a wife?"

"In your heart, I was always just a woman who slept in your bed for money. All my sacrifices, even having your child, were just transactions to you. When you were happy, you tossed me some change. When you weren't, I was worthless, and you blamed me for things I never did."

"I'm exhausted. I don't want this anymore."

"If there's nothing else, please leave."

"When we divorced, we made it very clear: we wouldn't interfere in each other's lives."

She went to close the door.

The car parked.

Hilda was about to get out when there was a soft click.

Luther had locked the doors.

He gripped the steering wheel with both hands, staring straight ahead. They needed to see Matilda immediately, but there was one thing he desperately needed to ask. After a moment of hesitation, he spoke.

"Hilda, what if..."

"If we..."

Though he only got halfway through, Hilda knew exactly what he meant.

Sitting upright in the back, her face luminous in the dim light, she looked incredibly serene. She said softly, "Luther, there are no 'what ifs' between us. And there is certainly no 'us'."

It had been over for a long time.

Over since the moment he shattered everything between them.

A child was supposed to be a bond of love.

Not an excuse to settle.

She had made herself perfectly clear.

There was zero possibility of them getting back together.

His fingers curled slightly around the steering wheel before he reached over, pressed the button, and unlocked the doors.