From Divorce to Billionaire’s Baby

It’s just one more night of pretending to be a happy couple. I keep telling myself this, holding on to the fragile thread of patience that’s frayed more with each passing day. This time next week, I will be free of it all, free of the charade, the forced smiles, the empty conversations. I will sign the divorce papers with no hesitation, close this chapter, and pretend that the last two years were nothing more than a bad dream. I stand in front of the mirror, my heart racing in my chest as I prepare for tonight. My hair is styled in loose waves that cascade down my shoulders, each strand meticulously placed to create a look of effortless elegance. My smoky eye makeup accentuates the green in my eyes, a hint of gold shimmer catching the light with every blink. The deep crimson of my lips matches the gown I am about to slip into, giving me an air of confidence I don’t quite feel. The dress itself is stunning, an exquisite red gown that clings to my curves in all the right places. The bodice, adorned with delicate lace and subtle sequins, sparkles with every step I take. As I zip myself into it, the fabric feels like armour, something to shield me from the turmoil inside. I glance once more at my reflection, steeling myself for the evening ahead. A knock on the door pulls me from my thoughts. “Mrs. Sterling,” Maria calls softly. “Come in,” I reply, trying to steady my voice. Maria steps in, her comforting presence a small relief. “Mr. Sterling sent a vehicle to pick you up when you’re ready,” she informs me. I nod, turning my back to her. “Help me with the zipper?” She steps forward, her fingers pulling the zipper up smoothly. “You look stunning, Mrs. Sterling.” I offer her a weak smile. “Thank you, Maria.” I stare at my reflection one last time, taking a deep breath. It’s just one more night. After this, I’ll never have to wear this mask again. I slip on my shoes and grab my clutch, my hands trembling as I adjust the straps on my heels. “You’ll steal the show tonight,” Maria says with a reassuring smile. “I hope not,” I mutter, dreading the spotlight that always seems to follow me. Ever since I became Mrs. Sterling, life has felt like one long, exhausting performance, always under scrutiny, always on display. But after tonight, it will all be over. I can finally reclaim the person I used to be. Maria helps me with my coat, and I make my way downstairs. The sound of my heels clicking on the marble floor echoes through the grand hall, a reminder of the life I have lived for the past two years, a life built on wealth, but empty of happiness. The car is waiting at the bottom of the steps, the driver standing by the open door. I slide into the back seat, the cool leather a stark contrast to the heat of my anxiety. Maria waves as the car pulls away, her smile warm and unwavering, even though this might be one of our last moments together. I gaze out the window as the city lights blur past. Tonight is the final act of this performance, and once it’s over, I will be free. But why do I feel this strange emptiness, like something important is slipping away from me? The car slows as we approach the venue. It’s Ryan’s end-of-year gala, a tradition for his company. For our company, I remind myself, at least for a little while longer. After tonight, it will be his problem, his responsibility. I’ll finally be free of him. I step out of the car and spot Ryan standing at the entrance, looking as polished as ever in his black tuxedo. His eyes, which are usually distant and cold, seem softer tonight, warmer somehow. My stomach flips unexpectedly. I tell myself it’s just nerves, but the look he gives me is different tonight, and it unsettles me. “Tess,” he says, his voice low as he steps toward me, offering his arm. The way he says my name makes my heart stutter. I have heard him say it a thousand times, but tonight, it feels different. Personal. I force a smile, looping my arm through his. “Let’s not make a scene,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady. He doesn’t react, just nods, and leads me inside. The gala is already in full swing, the sound of clinking glasses and soft conversation filling the air. People turn to greet us, their smiles bright, expecting the perfect couple they believe we are. I smile back, but my thoughts are elsewhere. All I can think about is how this is the last time we will have to pretend. Ryan keeps his hand on the small of my back as we make our rounds, introducing me to his new investors and clients. His touch lingers longer than usual, his fingers brushing against my skin in a way that feels...................intentional. It’s strange. He’s being too nice, too attentive. It’s not like him. By the time we reach the bar, I need a moment to breathe. I step away, but Ryan follows, his gaze never leaving me. “Are you okay?” he asks, his voice unusually concerned. “I am fine,” I lie, taking a sip of champagne. “Just ready for this to be over.” He watches me for a moment, then leans in close, his breath warm against my ear. “Maybe it doesn’t have to be.” I freeze, my heart pounding in my chest. I turn to look at him, but he’s already pulled away, his usual mask of indifference back in place. What the hell was that? As we continue through the evening, his eyes keep finding mine, and every time they do, I feel a strange pull. Something has shifted between us, something I can’t quite name. But I am too afraid to ask what it means. For now, I just need to get through the night.