Billionaire, Let's Divorce! by BELLA

AIDEN

I rolled around in the swiveling chair I sat in as I replayed the phone call I just had in my head.

She had sounded timid but the excitement and relief was evident in her voice.

"Um hi."

I had remained silent, unable to trust my own voice.

"Aiden, are you there?"

I cleared my throat, "I'm listening."

"Okay. I just called to tell you that the procedure worked."

My heart did a little somersault before she voiced, "I'm pregnant."

I stayed silent for a long while, not sure how to take the news. I was surprised she hadn't even ended the call.

"That's good news," I finally said.

"Yeah," she drawled. There was a short silence then the call ended with a sharp click.

After that call, I'd been unable to get back to work. Unable to stop her words from replaying in my head.

I was happy, no doubt. My daughter now had a higher chance of being saved. A chance of her getting to know me as her father.

But the guilt grew by the second. The way it had been growing since the day the procedure took place. Yet, it did nothing to put a reign on my renewed attraction for Ana.

getting there. I knew it was only a matter

reassured me that I would never feel anything for her again but as I spent more time with her, going over reports and tests, the rekindled spark I felt for her had hit

how Amie was doing, even though she was not yet aware that I was her father, I had to stop myself from visiting

the mention of her name fueled

and stuck with me. She

And it made me feel like

I opened them again,

straight to voicemail. Again. It's been like that since I agreed to do

to the extreme to stop me. But

day she returned

had became scarce, spending insane hours working with little rest was

ines

she continued to work so

regret it in the long

reason even though

the first time

a succinct, "I

with her gaze fixed on her laptop's screen, she has refused to say a thing

this through. It was the only

She needs to

though she has refused to say anything to me, I continued to update her about every

that she demanded

the guilt that pushed me each time I opened my mouth. Besides, if I wanted this to work, I needed her to

last time, I'd told her that we were waiting

tidied up my desk and grabbed my car