Divorce to Destiny: Reclaiming My CEO Husband

(Lisa)

Staring at my bedroom ceiling won't change anything. But I don't know what else to do.

Arms crossed over my stomach, pressing down like I can stop this from happening. Like I can physically hold it all in-this pregnancy, this entire fucking disaster.

This isn't happening. It can't happen.

But it is.

The numbers keep running through my head. Twelve weeks. Three months. That's a whole damn trimester. This is real, and there's no taking it back.

How the hell can this be happening?

I squeeze my eyes shut, jaw clenched. I know exactly how. The last night with Lance. The one where he let himself feel what we had. The one where I thought-stupidly, so fucking stupidly-that we might actually get it right. That night we weren't as careful as we could've been. But I have contraception, I thought it would be fine.

Now he's gone, and I'm stuck holding the last piece of him.

The phone buzzes on my nightstand. Winona.

I hesitate, then grab it.noveldrama

"How'd your day go? You okay?"

"Fine. Just tired. How was your meeting?"

"Nailed it. They signed off on everything. Full control over the marketing budget, rebranding, expansion-all of it."

Of course she crushed it. Of course she's stepping into this role effortlessly, proving everyone wrong. That's what she does. She deserves everything to go flawlessly.

And here I am, drowning in a problem she'd give anything to still have. Pregnancy.

"Knew you would. They're lucky to have you, girl."

"You sure you're okay? You don't sound like yourself."

I squeeze my phone so tight my fingers cramp.

"Stop worrying about me and go spend time with your husband before he leaves."

"He had an entire house built next door today."

"What?"

"Oh, we have a nanny, well two actually. They are going to live out here. I'll tell you all about i t tomorrow night."

"I'll look forward to it. Love you."

"Love you more."

The second I put the phone down, my whole body sags.

I can't tell her about being pregnant. I will tell her about the foundation problems but not yet. She has enough going on.

She lost her baby. Lost her last chance. Had to have surgery to make sure it never happens again. And me? I get pregnant by accident. An accident, like it's some fucking joke from the universe. I press my hands to my face.

She'd be happy for me. I know she would. She'd push through her own pain and tell me it's okay, that I'll figure it out. That I don't have to be a mother just because I'm pregnant. That she'll support me no

swatter

what.

And that's exactly why I can't tell her. Because I don't deserve that unconditional friendship.

I don't want this baby. And that makes me the most selfish person on the planet.

I roll onto my side, staring at the empty glass on my nightstand. No wine. No vodka. No escape. I can't even go out and dance until my feet hurt. Can't disappear into flashing lights and pounding music, into distraction.

Even if I wasn't pregnant, it wouldn't fix anything. None of this fits.

Not me. Not this pregnancy. Not the CEO position. Not fixing the mess Lance's death caused in his foundation.

I should be in Europe right now. That was the plan. Two months of partying, maybe a couple of flings, a detox retreat in Bali afterward to reset. That's what my life was supposed to look like. Not boardrooms. Not nonprofit work. Not babies.

I sit up suddenly, all the air leaves my body.

I can't do this. Not here, not now. I need out.

But how? I can't just disappear. Not with this CEO position hanging over me. I can't run off to have this baby in secret and hand it over to some perfect couple looking for their miracle.

Not when my name is about to be all over these charities.

And keeping it? Raising a child I don't want, a child who deserves more? Unthinkable.

My parents were never cruel, never outright neglectful. They loved me, in their way. But I was always the third wheel in their glamorous, jet-set life. Dragged from one elite event to another, shuffled between nannies,

expected to appreciate my tucky life.

They always told me I was free to do whatever I wanted. That I was lucky not to have pressure or expectations like other kids. But all that freedom just meant I was alone.

I don't want that for this baby. I don't want to be my parents.

But I don't want to be a mother either.

Tears burn in my eyes. Fuck, I hate crying. Hate this trapped, suffocating feeling.

Lance would've found a way through this. He always made the worst situations seem like a comedy show. He was so fucking wrong but he got us through the worst times of our lives and made us laugh about it all.

He never let us feel sorry for ourselves for long but he had this innate understanding that never had to be spoken. It was just known. He supported us, me, Winona, Jayden, no matter what.

He always did. He'd have some ridiculous plan, some loophole I hadn't thought of. He'd crack a joke, make me laugh until my stomach hurt, then casually drop the solution like it was obvious all along. But he's not here.

And there isn't a solution.

A sob breaks out of my chest before I can stop it. Then another. I curl onto my side, pulling my knees up, trying to contain it.

I don't ugly cry. Not like this. Not ever.

But right now, I can't stop. Because this isn't fixable.

And I have no fucking idea what to do next.