The Secret Pregnancy of the Billionaire's Ex-Wife

Chapter 293

Chapter 293: If I Had Met You First

Christopher POV

Sean and I graduated and went to college together. Two years later, Angela followed us to the same university.

I knew without asking why she'd chosen this school-Sean was here she'd even selected the same economics major as him. Her dedication to following him was both admirable and painful to witness.

But her time orbiting Sean lasted only those two years.

Everything changed after the yacht party incident that became campus legend- when Christina "heroically saved Sean from drowning. What nobody knew was that I had orchestrated the whole thing.

Christina and I had both pulled Sean from the water that night, but afterward, I gave her all the credit. I knew the blonde bombshell had her sights set on Sean, and I deliberately helped her.

Yes, I knew it would hurt Angela, but I wanted a fair chance with her Sean had only met Angela first by coincidence. His feelings for her could never match the depth of mine.

Just as I had anticipated, Christina successfully captured Sean's attention. Day by day, I watched him drift further away from Angela, his focus increasingly consumed by the blonde beauty who had "saved his life."

remember the night I found Angela sitting alone outside the hockey arena, long after practice had ended. It was unusually cold for spring, and she wasn't wearing a coat. As I got closer, I realized she was crying.

"Angela?" I said, approaching slowly.

She looked up, hastily wiping her tears away. “Christopher? What are you doing here so late?"

I explained, sitting down beside her. The scent of alcohol hit me immediately. "Have you

there was no humor in it. "Maybe a little. Or a lot. I

in libraries and cheered the

I asked,

since high school." She

chest ache. I wanted to pull her into my arms, to tell her Sean was an

continued, her words slurring slightly. "Six years I've

idiot," I

now. Maybe, just maybe, this meant I wo chance

inally have a

wonderful Sean." She leaned her head back against the wall. "And who am I? Just Angela Wilson, the

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298 If I Had Met

firmly. "Your cart and brave and fat. Youre the girl who stood up

crossing her face. "You

thought maybe-just maybe he was seeing me. Really seeing

my shoulder, the alcohol finally

get you home,"

my car. By the time we reached her apartment, she was barely conscious. I hall-carried her inside, found her bedroom, and gently laid her on

over her, words I'd kept

I whispered. 'I'll never leave

library. I've loved you every