The Secret Pregnancy of the Billionaire's Ex-Wife

Chapter 162

Chapter 162: The Last Thing I Need in My Life is Sex

Angela POV

"Mommy."

Aria's voice startled me out of my thoughts. I turned to find her standing in the middle of our living room, her small face scrunched up in curiosity.

"Who taught you to say those things earlier?" I asked, moving away from the window.

She tilted her head, dark curls bouncing. "Nobody taught Aria, Mommy. It was Aria's own

thinking. Mommy came home and went straight to the window to peek. Weren't you looking for Mr. Night?"

My cheeks warmed. "No, I was just closing the curtains."

"But I saw you open them a little bit to look outside," she insisted, her innocent eyes

watching me carefully.

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "Aria, why are you contradicting me so much

lately?"

"Mommy, Aria is just telling the truth," she replied with that childish logic that was impossible to argue with.

I knelt down to her level, meeting her eyes. "Aria, can you promise me something?"

Her eyes brightened. "What is it, Mommy?"

"When we're with Mr. Night, whatever I say is final. You can't contradict me in front

of

him, okay?"

Aria's expression changed to something more thoughtful than a five-year-old should be

capable of. "Mommy, do you not like Mr. Night?"

"No, I don't," I answered firmly.

"Then... do you hate Mr. Night?"

I paused, choosing my words carefully. "Aria, there's a difference between not liking

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and hating them. Not liking means you don't want to spend time with that person, but hating means you feel very strong negative feelings toward

surprising focus. "Then play with Mr.

He's really nice."

to your room for now? I'll call you when

to play with Mr.

about that

skipped

non-

committal answer.

that night, after tucking both children into

desperately seeking sleep.

unbidden images of Sean filled my mind-Sean standing in his penthouse bathroom doorway, water droplets still clinging to his bare

minimal covering, reconstructing his

my face in the pillow. What was wrong with

building my career.

or sex-

such distractions. Yet

seemed to be

children to raise and a company to run. The last thing I

the children earlier than usual, hoping to

leaving before he arrived. We hurried through our morning routine,

to the

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"Ms. Wilson, good morning."

stood near the entrance, and behind him, leaning against a

you to come down so early," Thomas continued. "On our way here, I told Mr. Shaw we didn't need to arrive this early, but he insisted you would try to leave

my lips together, irritated that Sean had predicted my actions

from my grasp and ran toward Sean. He crouched down, opening his arms to

herself at him.

by my side, watching

you and the children must not have had breakfast yet, coming

this

early," Thomas observed.

holding Aria.

for any

Sean said, extending

me, uncertainty

to go but was waiting for my

called from the car where

in a booster seat.