Mr billionaire's regret chasing his irresistible wife by Gabby Emmanuel

We all need friends like Ashley.

(ARIELLE'S POV)

I was getting vegetables and other cooking utensils ready when I felt a jolt in my stomach. I winced and grabbed the kitchen island, waiting for the wave to die down. I knew it would because it was a feeling I was familiar with.

The feeling had started three days back, and at first, I had attributed it to what I ate. But it happened again, and again, and it's the third day already.

I didn't read much meaning to it because it wasn't painful, just a sharp jolt that rippled through my abdomen like a tide of waves. And seconds later, it was gone like it never happened.

Deciding it was nothing serious, I didn't bother telling my Mum or Ashley about it. They'd freak out and drag me to the hospital, and I hated hospitals. They reminded me of so many ugly memories. And so shoved the thoughts of it aside, deciding it would stop the same way it started. No need to worry anyone.

"Are you alright?" Rebecca inquired, looking at me closely.

I forced a smile; I hadn't realized I'd paused mid-task. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"Are you sure? You look pale, and is it just me, but you've been putting on a lot of weight recently."

I laughed, amused. What does gaining weight have to do with illness? "Rebecca, I'm fine. And about the weight, I only gained a few pounds because I've been frequenting the gym."

"Alright. If you say so," she mumbled, even though she didn't look convinced. I was not in the mood to convince her either, so we both let it slide.

asked, and before I responded, she already took over the

I muttered, and moved on

**********

Ashley came to pick me up. On arriving home, we were surprised to see

I

not," she said, shaking

here, and who brought them?" I asked, eyeing the packages

approaching the packages, but I pulled

What if it's a bomb or something harmful? You're just

Arielle? A bomb, this large? Quit being a scared cat, alright, and let me see

stepped back wearily, watching Ashley like a hawk. She tugged at one of the packages, and a paper stuck to

at the card and then exclaimed, "Aha! It's for you." She turned to me, holding out a card. "See, it's not a bomb. Take

accepted the card

on it. "To you, my dear Arielle." Without a second thought, I knew who it

those boxes," I said

divorced all these gifts translate to nothing but pity. She feels sorry her son left me

sending me gifts."

"Arielle -"

three years, courtesy