Ex-Husband’s Love Dilemma

Chapter 9

Having hardly eaten a morsel all day, Cassandra gave directions to the Dustmeadow Mansion’s chef to whip up some spaghetti as she got back.

The sight of the dish–loaded with carrots and minced meat–should’ve stirred her to chow down. Instead, a swell of nausea swept over her just looking at it.

Initially, she chalked it up to running on empty for so long. But when she tried to lift a spoonful to her mouth, she was hit by a wall of sickness that roared through her.

Cassandra bolted to the bathroom, caught in the grip of violent dry heaves.

It was one hell of an ordeal, feeling as if her insides got caught in a blender. It finally eased after what felt like forever. Cassandra shook it off, only to find herself face–to–face with Orlando.

Sporting a blank stare, Cassandra looked at Orlando, gobsmacked. “When’d you get back?” she stammered. It’s like he ghosted in without a peep.

Orlando’s face was a mask of indifference, his brooding eyes trained on her. “What’s up with you?”

A shadow of panic flashed in Cassandra’s eyes before she gathered herself and lied smoothly, “I’m good.”

“You sure about that?” Orlando pushed, a frown etching itself on his face.

Quick to put him at ease, Cassandra fired back with a bright smile. “Absolutely! What do you reckon happened to me?”

panic before she managed to cloak

fluster. He bore into her with his deep blue eyes, as if trying to see straight into

he said indifferently,

better not be pregnant.”

1/3

Emergency calls only

Chapter 9

fluttered, and an icy

denied the possibility of her pregnancy without a

075% 16:59

“If I was pregnant, would you let me keep

way you could be pregnant,” he retorted, his assertiveness resounding in his voice and mirrored in his steady gaze.

hit hard that he’d never even

the hurt and managed a weak smile. “You seem pretty sure. Why the doubt? You

night when he was too drunk to remember anything. That, however, was not something Cassandra was ready to remind him of. She held her composure, no trace of

him; it was as if a sharp barb had brushed past his

suggested, “If you’re feeling under the weather, why don’t you visit a doctor? I can have Taylor set

was

thanks, I