The Billionaire's Silent Wife (Ryan and Eve) novel Chapter 22

22 Evelyn Roderigo

22 Evelyn Roderigo

Eve’s POV

+25 Points>

By the time three months had passed in Westwood Eve no longer answered to her old name.

She had become Evelyn Roderigo.

It had been Miter Rodrigo’s idea first, though the final choice had been hers. He had introduced her one evening, half-proud, half-protective, to his wife Kamila as the daughter they had never had. At first, Eve had resisted. The name felt like a mask, the title like charity. But Kamila’s warm hand on hers and Rodrigo’s gruff nod had slowly worn her down.

“Evelyn,” Kamila had said, smiling softly. “It suits you. It’s not a disguise, it’s a beginning.”

So Evelyn she became.

The papers were adjusted, the name attached to her new lease, her bank account, her job. In Westwood, no one looked at her and saw a woman trapped in a marriage born of leverage and

silence. They saw only a young so

chef with sharp skills, a quiet determination, and a fatherly

boss who spoke of her as his own.

She didn’t let it get to her head. She couldn’t.

She carried her baggage silently, folding it neatly beneath the long hours of work and the nights of study. She gave Rodrigo’s kitchen her all, each plate a testament to her discipline. She studied until

blurred, every late-night page a reminder of the life she still dreamed of, one she could

finally own.

her eyes

The weight of her past followed, but she refused to let it crush her.

It was in the middle of those months, when life had just begun to feel stable, that the ground

shifted beneath her feet again.

She had been sick for days, chalking it up to exhaustion. Too much work. Too many sleepless

nights bent over her textbooks. But when Kamila caught her leaning over the sink one morning,

pale and trembling, she pressed a hand to her shoulder.

“You should see a doctor,” Kamila urged.

Eve hesitated. Fear prickled down her spine. But she went.

The sterile room, the doctor’s calm voice, the test results, they all blurred together until the only

words she could hear were the ones that would change everything:

You’re pregnant.

The world tilted.

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<22 Evelyn Roderigo

+25 Points

She sat there frozen, staring at the white floor tiles, her heart hammering. Pregnant. With Ryan’s

child.

Her hands trembled as she pressed them against her stomach. How? She had taken the pills religiously, never missing a single one, until that morning she had left. She had been too distracted, too shaken, too consumed by escape. And the night before, Ryan had touched her. Claimed her. That one moment, that one slip, had rewritten her future.

She stumbled home in silence.

In her small apartment above the restaurant, she sat on the bed, staring at the wall, whispering the

same quon again and again.

“How come?”

Her instincts screamed to tell him. To pick up the phone, call Ryan, and break the silence. But fear

crushed the thought before it formed fully.

She remembered his voice, flat and cold: Are you still on the pill? Good. No children will come from

this. Whatever this is.

He had been so clear. He didn’t want children with her. Not then. Not ever.

So what grew inside her now was, in his eyes, an unwanted child.

The first week was agony. She contemplated abortion, pacing the small apartment with shaking

hands, her mind filled with dark spirals. Could she provide enough for a child? Could she raise one

alone, without Ryan, without her family? Could she give a child the balanced life of two parents she

herself had never known?

But every time she thought of ending it, she felt her heart twist.

In the silence of those nights, when she pressed her palm to her belly, she realized she couldn’t do

1. She couldn’t erase the only part of Ryan she would ever get to keep.

At the last minute, she made her choice.

She would keep the baby.

She would love Ryan’s child, even if he never did.

When she told Kamila, the woman took her hands in both of hers, her eyes steady, warm.

“You won’t do this alone,” Kamila promised. “Miter and I will help you. This child will never lack for family. Not while we’re here.”

Eve’s throat tightened. “Why would you do that for me?”

Kamila smiled softly. “Because sometimes we don’t choose our daughters. They find us. And when

they do, we love them as if they’ve always been ours.”

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22 Evelyn Roderigo

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Miter Rodrigo grunted his agreement, though his eyes softened as he patted her shoulder. “You’re stronger than you think, girl. Strong enough to carry this. Strong enough to make it work.”

For the first time in weeks, Eve felt something like hope.

But nights were still hard.

The emptiness lingered. Even with Kamila’s support, even with Rodrigo’s gruff encouragement, her heart ached. She lay awake, one hand curved protectively over her stomach, and thought of Ryan.

She imagined his face if he ever found out. The anger. The disgust. The cold dismissal.

She told self he was happier now. Free of her. Relieved. Leah wouldn’t be pushy anymore, and he could finally be with Luan, just as it had been meant to be before her father forced his hand.

The thought hollowed her, but she clung to it as truth.

And still, her body betrayed her.

She missed his touch. His jealousy. The way he had claimed her, even if it was out of anger. The

memories haunted her, heated her skin, twisted her heart.

But she reminded herself again and again: it was fantasy. Nothing more.

Reality was here, in Westwood. Reality was the child growing inside her, the degree she still

chased, the job that gave her life shape.

She buried her grief in work, her longing in study. She whispered to her unborn child, promising love, promising devotion. If she could never have Ryan, then she would pour all her love into the

only part of him she still carried.

The road ahead would be bumpy. She knew it. But she was ready.

Because this child, Ryan’s child, was the only beautiful thing to come from the ashes of that

marriage.

And she would not let it go.

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