The Secret Pregnancy of the Billionaire's Ex-Wife novel Chapter 93

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The Secret Pregnancy of the Billionaire’s Ex Wife

Chapter 93: The Last Goodbye–1

Angela POV

Manning sunlight filtered through Sophia’s guest room curtains, racing unfamilia

emperary keď

My phone burred on the nightstand, and I felt my henit stutter at the tight of Sean name itheminating the sermon.

a

When will you come get your things? His voice carried an edge I couldn 1 quite name hitterness, perhaps, ce regret.

Ill stop by this afternoon.” I replied, fighting to keep my voice steady. Unless that’s inconvenient for you?

Do whatever you want.” The line went dead before I could resprind.

1 pressed my fingers against my temples, fighting back the familiar ache that seemed to accompany every interaction with Sean

these days.

The day ahead loomed large–Elizabeth was expecting my visit, and then there was the d married life–into whatever pieces 1 could bear to take with me.

daunting task of packing up two years of

The hospital corridor stretched longer than usual as I made my way to Elizabeth’s room. Her face brightened when she san though I caught the concern shadowing her eyes.

“You look tired, dear,” she observed, patting the space beside her bed “Come, tell me about your day.”

I settled into the familiar chair, sharing small stories about Sophie’s cat knocking over a vase, about the barista who always remembered my order–anything except the truth weighing heavy on my chest.

Elizabeth listened with that knowing smile that had always made me wonder how much she really understood.

“You know,” she said softly as her eyes began to drift closed, “sometimes the bravest thing we can do is admit when something isn t working. She squeezed my hand gently before sleep claimed her.

I sat there a moment longer, watching the peaceful rise and fall of her chest.

The sound of footsteps in the doorway made me

e turn–Sean stood there, his expression unreadable.

Dark circles shadowed his eyes, and his usual impeccable appearance seemed somehow diminished, as if he hadn’t been sleeping well.

He opened his mouth slightly, then closed it again, whatever words he’d meant to say dying before they reached his lips.

It struck me as odd, seeing him like this. Shouldn’t he be happy now Free to be with Christina openly?

But then I remembered Victoria’s stern disapproval, the way she’d made her feelings about Christina crystal clear, Perhaps that was the source of his obvious exhaustion–caught between his mother’s expectations and his heart’s desire.

Our eyes met briefly before I rose, slipping past him without a word,

That familiar citrus scent that always clung to him walled between us, achingly intimate yet somehow foreight now.

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11:41: Tue Apr B

Chapter 93: The Last Goodbye–1

the trailed off, The penthouse felt different tow, though nothing had physically changed, Sarah granted ma a steaming cup. “Your favorite cinnamon apple tea, Mrs. Shaw. Or could i

“Thank you, Sarahs.” I accepted the cup with a small smile. “But Mr. Wilson is fine nose.

ms with purpose, collecting only what I couldn t bear to leave behind my mother’s jeestry I moved through the rooms cherished books, the cashmere sweater I’d worn on cold mornings in the library,

Everything else could stay.

They were just things, after all, and I had no desire to strip the wallshare of my presence,

James,

the building

gmanager, approached me as I waited for the elevator. He held out an

“Mrs. Shaw,” he said with his usual formal warmth, “I hope you don’t mind, but I wanted to give you your Christmas

year.”

Inside the card was a delicate hand–drawn sketch of Sean and me, arms linked as we walked through the busing detail was remarkable–the way Sean’s hand rested protectively at my elbow, the slight tilt of my head

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The Secret Pregnancy of the Billionaire’s Ex–Wife

Chapter 93: The Last Goodbye–2

A moment from happier days, captured in gentle pencil strokes,

“Ive been working on it for a while, James explained, a hint of pride in his voice. “I hope you like it.”

I smiled, carefully tucking the card into my bag.

“It’s beautiful, James. Thank you.” The words caught slightly in my throat, but I managed to keep my voice steady.

I couldn’t bring myself to tell him that the couple in his drawing no longer existed, that the woman who smiled so trustingly up at her husband was already gone.

That card, I thought as the elevator doors closed between us, would probably be the only proof of my two–year marriage that I’d take with me.

Standing in what had been our bedroom one last time, I allowed myself a moment to remember: morning light streaming through floor–to–ceiling windows, quiet Sunday breakfasts on the terrace, the way Sean’s cologne would linger in the air long after he’d left

for work.

Two years of memories, both bitter and sweet, wrapped in silk and cashmere and Egyptian cotton.

Silent tears slid down my cheeks, blurring everything before me into a soft, indistinct haze of colors and shapes–as if the room itself was fading away, just like the life I had built here.

Sophie’s apartment welcomed me back with the comfort of friendship and understanding.

“I think I need to leave for a while, 1 admitted as we sat

t in her cozy kitchen. “Not forever, just… until things settle.”

“I know.” Her eyes were soft with sympathy. “I’ve been expecting this conversation.”

The knock at the door announced Christopher’s arrival. He entered th his usual quiet grace, though something in his expression suggested news beyond a casual visit.

“I saw your father yesterday,” he said without preamble. He sends his love. And his understanding” He settled into a chair, his amber eyes meeting mine.

“He also mentioned that the villa in Tuscany is empty this time of year. If you’re interested in a change of scenery,”

Sophie busied herself with packing snacks for my journey, her movements betraying the emotion she was trying to hide.

“You’ll need something for the flight,” she insisted, tucking homemade cookies into a paper bag

The city lights were just beginning to twinkle to life as Christopher’s car pulled up to the airport terminal.

Sophie’s embrace was fierce, her whispered “Call me, promise you’ll call me making my