The Billionaire Regretted Losing His Invisible Wife novel Chapter 66

Chapter 72 Unexpected

Mia’s POV

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Weekend sunlight filtered through my curtains, painting warm stripes across my bed. For once, I let myself luxuriate in the quiet morning, no alarm pushing me toward meetings or site visits. Gas’s gentle snoring from his bed in the corner provided a soothing backdrop as I stretched, my muscles protesting slightly from yesterday’s workout.

“Just five more minutes,” I mumbled into my pillow, though I knew it was closer to nine than my usual six AM. The sounds of Mom puttering in the kitchen drifted through my door – the gentle clink of her favorite teacup, the rustle of newspaper pages turning.

When I finally dragged myself up, the wooden floor was cool under my bare feet. I padded to the window, pulling back the curtains to reveal a perfect autumn morning. The maple tree outside my window was just starting to turn golden at its edges.

“Time to adult,” I told my reflection as I moved through my morning routine. The face in the mirror looked different lately – more relaxed, maybe. The dark circles under my eyes had faded, and my cheeks had filled out slightly now that I was actually eating regular meals again.

The apartment needed tidying – working late on the children’s center designs had left various sketches and material samples scattered across every surface. I gathered papers into neat stacks, watered Mom’s rapidly multiplying plant collection, and started a load of laundry.

It wasn’t until I was organizing the bathroom cabinet that I froze, a box of tampons in my hand. When was my last…?

“No,” I whispered, the box clattering into the sink. “No, no, no.”

I grabbed my phone, fingers shaking as I pulled up my period tracking app. The little calendar stared back at me accusingly. Six weeks. How had I not noticed for six weeks?

“It’s just stress,” I told my reflection firmly. “The hospital, Mom’s recovery, the move – of course I’m irregular.”

But my mind kept circling back to that night. Scarlett’s birthday. Paradise. Kyle. The memories I’d been trying so hard to forget came rushing back – his hands, his mouth, the way he’d… No. He’d used protection. I distinctly remembered seeing the evidence in the trash the next morning.

“Mia?” Mom’s voice carried through the door. “Everything okay in there?”

“Fine!” My voice came out higher than intended. “Just… organizing!”

“Well, come eat something when you’re done. I made pancakes.”

Pancakes. The thought made my stomach roll unexpectedly. Come to think of it, hadn’t I been feeling queasy lately? I’d blamed it on takeout, on working too hard, on anything but…

“This isn’t happening.” But even as I said the words, more signs clicked into place. The exhaustion I’d attributed to stress. The way certain smells had been bothering me. The slight tenderness in my breasts that I’d ignored.

My keys were in my hand before I’d consciously decided to move. “Mom?” I called, grabbing my jacket. “I need to run to the store. Back in twenty!”

“But your pancakes-”

“Save them for me!”

I half-ran to the corner pharmacy. I tried to calm down but failed.

“Can I help you find anything?” The pharmacist’s cheerful voice made me jump.

“No! I mean, no thank you. I’m good.”

Chapter 2 fexpected

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I grabbed three different tests, avoiding eye contact with the cashier as I paid. The walk home felt endless, the paper bag burning a hole in my jacket pocket.

Gas greeted me at the door with his usual enthusiasm, but even his joyful face couldn’t calm my racing heart.

“Honey?” Mom appeared in the hallway “Your pancakes are getting cold.”

“Sorry, I just need to…” I gestured vaguely toward the bathroom, probably looking as panicked as I felt.

Her eyes narrowed slightly. “Everything okay?”.

“Fine. Everything’s fine.”

I locked the bathroom door with trembling fingers, emptying my purchases onto the counter. Three tests. Surely they couldn’t all be wrong?

The instructions blurred as I read them, my hands shaking so badly I almost dropped the first stick.

Three minutes. That’s all I had to wait. Three minutes that felt like three years as I paced the small space, trying to breathe

normally.

Gas whined outside the door, picking up on my anxiety. “I’m okay, buddy,” I called softly, but my voice cracked on the words.

The first line appeared slowly, then the second. Clear and undeniable. Positive.

“No.” I ripped open the second test with numb fingers. “No, no, no.”

But the result was the same. And the third. Three identical pink lines stared back at me, each one feeling like another nail in my carefully constructed new life.

I sank onto the closed toilet lid, my legs refusing to hold me up any longer. This couldn’t be happening.

Gas managed to nose the door open – I must not have locked it properly in my panic. He bounded in, tail wagging as he snatched

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