From Divorce to Billionaire’s Baby

Chapter Five:Decisions

As the sun sets, casting soft shades of orange and purple across the sky, I sink into the plush sofa, every muscle in my body aching with exhaustion. It’s been one of those days that leaves you drained, physically, mentally, and emotionally. My hand instinctively moves to my swollen belly, feeling the comforting flutter of the baby inside. I can’t tell if it’s a reminder of how far I have come or a new layer to the complexities that have unfolded today.

The day started like any other, but it ended in complete upheaval. The shock of seeing Ryan, my ex-husband, the man I thought I had left behind, hasn’t fully sunk in. And now, knowing that he’s discovered I am pregnant, emotions are swirling in ways I am not prepared for. I am angry, confused, anxious… and yes, a little scared. Scared of what he might want, scared of what it could mean for my life and the baby.

Seeing Ryan today brought back a flood of memories, transporting me to the moment when we first met, to when everything in my life began to spiral out of my control. I remember how quickly it all happened, one moment, we were strangers, and the next, we were bound together by the expectations of our families. Our parents had orchestrated the entire thing, suggesting that we go out and see where it would lead. What started as an introduction arranged by them soon turned into something more, but not in the way I had hoped.

Within a month of our first meeting, Ryan’s parents had already planted the idea that Ryan and I would make a beautiful family. They were so sure of it, speaking as if it were a done deal. I fell for it, hard. How could I not? Ryan is incredibly handsome, the kind of man any woman would feel lucky to be with. And at that point in my life, I had no doubts about myself either. I was confident that, together, we could build the perfect family. I even imagined our future children, believing that they would inherit Ryan’s good looks and my charm. What started as a joke between our families, something casual and harmless, quickly developed into a relationship with real consequences. Before I could fully process what was happening, we had a wedding date set, and plans were in motion.

Our wedding was grand, lavish even. It was the kind of wedding most girls dream of, large, opulent, with everyone important in attendance. I remember walking down the aisle, not fully aware of what I was getting into, but the smiles on our families’ faces were all the encouragement I needed to keep moving forward.

Then came the honeymoon. Bali. A place that was supposed to symbolize the beginning of our life together, a time for us to connect as husband and wife. But it was anything but that. Ryan was glued to his phone the entire time, his attention completely focused on work. I spent that week alone, wandering through the streets of Bali, shopping to pass the time, trying to enjoy the beautiful destination without my husband by my side. We never did any of the ‘honeymoon stuff’ couples are supposed to do. There was no romance, no connection, no intimacy, not even an attempt. I began to wonder if something was wrong, if maybe Ryan just wasn’t attracted to me. I told myself it was just a busy time for him, that once we returned, things would settle down, and we would finally begin our life together.

But I was wrong. When we got back home, I was surprised to find out that I wasn’t even going to share a room with him. They had prepared a separate room for me, and from that point on, we lived more like distant roommates than a married couple. I couldn’t understand it, how could we have a marriage without any closeness, without sharing a bed? We had only slept in the same bed during our honeymoon, and even then, there was no real intimacy. Nothing beyond the surface.

I tried to rationalize it, telling myself that maybe this was just how things were with him, that maybe he wasn’t the affectionate type. I even tried to convince myself that I didn’t mind, that it was better this way because it kept things simple. But deep down, I was hurt. I felt rejected. Yet, I swallowed my feelings and ignored them for two long years. Two years of silence of pretending that everything was fine when it clearly wasn’t. I buried my frustration and confusion, telling myself that I would eventually find a way to make this marriage work.

But eventually, the weight of it all became too much. I couldn’t live in that kind of emptiness any longer. I couldn’t pretend that what we had was a marriage when we were nothing more than strangers sharing a house. It took me two years to gather the courage to ask for a divorce. And when I did, Ryan didn’t hesitate, he agreed.

That should have been the end of it. We should have parted ways then and there. But that night, after the gala, everything changed. Ryan and I found ourselves in a situation neither of us expected. We spent the night together, not as business partners or reluctant spouses, but as a couple. For the first time, it felt like we were a real couple, like we were in love. But I knew better. It wasn’t love. It was lust. A fleeting moment of passion that made me forget the coldness of our marriage, made me forget why I wanted to leave in the first place.

That night gave me a glimpse of what we could have had, what I had longed for in our relationship. But it also reminded me of everything that was missing between us. It wasn’t real, it never was. And yet, here I am, caught in this web of conflicting emotions, not sure what to do next.

The sound of the front door opening pulls me from my thoughts, and soon, the comforting presence of my parents fills the room. My mum, Karen, and my dad, Mark, are always here checking on me since I shared the news of caring their grandchild.

Since the divorce, mom always wants to prepare my dinner, dad sits with me and talks to me about my day. They don’t have to be here, I had a chef whom they let go of because they want to be here with me. It’s like they feel guilty about what happened between Ryan and I and claim pregnancy isn’t something I should do on my own.

My mum’s warm embrace envelops me, and for a moment, I feel like a child again, safe and protected.

“Hey, sweetheart,” she says, her voice soft and full of love. “How was your day?”

I sigh deeply, the weight of the day pressing down on me. “Complicated,” I say simply, glancing at my dad, who’s fidgeting with his tie, a clear sign he’s already in problem solving mode.

“Complicated how?” he asks, his brow furrowing as he leans forward. He’s always been the practical one, the voice of reason when I have felt lost.

I bite my lip, hesitant but knowing I need to share what happened. “Ryan came by today.”

The words hang in the air like a thunderstorm about to break. My parents exchange glances, and I can see the concern etched on their faces.

“Your ex-husband?” my mum asks cautiously, as if not wanting to stir up too much emotion just yet. “What did he want?”

I take a deep breath, feeling the tension coil tighter in my chest. “Not sure. But he found out I am pregnant when he saw me. He didn’t know.”

There’s a beat of silence, and I watch my dad rub his chin thoughtfully. “Did he say anything about wanting to be involved? Because that’s a big deal, Tess.”

“Yeah, he did,” I admit, the mix of frustration and confusion bubbling to the surface. “He wants to be a father, but after everything we have been through… can I even trust him?”

My mum sits beside me, her hand gently resting on mine. “Trust is important, love. You need to think about what’s best for you and the baby. But if he truly wants to be involved, maybe it’s worth considering.”

“Maybe,” I murmur, my mind racing. “But he can’t just show up whenever it suits him. He walked out of my life once. How do I know he won’t do it again?”

“Did you ask him why he came to see you now, after all this time?” my dad asks, his eyes narrowing with intensity. “There’s usually a reason for everything, Tess. Maybe there’s something serious he needs to talk about.”

I nod slowly. “I didn’t get the chance to ask. He was so focused on the fact that I am pregnant… it overtook the whole conversation.”

“Then maybe you should reach out,” my mum says, her tone gentle but encouraging. “If he needs something important from you, understanding what it is might give you clarity.”

A knot of anxiety tightens in my stomach. “But what if it’s something that just complicates everything? What if… what if he wants us to get back together?”

The words feel heavy as they leave my lips. It’s the one possibility I’ve been avoiding since Ryan showed up. The idea of him wanting to rekindle anything between us terrifies me.

“Just hear him out, honey,” my dad insists, his voice steady. “You don’t have to make any decisions right away. But knowing what he really wants might give you the peace of mind you need.”

I close my eyes for a moment, feeling the weight of the decision pressing down on me. “Okay,” I say, my voice quiet but firm. “I will hear him out.”

There’s a moment of silence, and then my dad gives a small nod of approval. My parents have always been the ones to guide me, especially when they encouraged me to marry Ryan in the first place. My grandparents, who had been wary of me marrying into the Sterling family, were relieved when the divorce went through, even passing down their company to me afterward.

But now, everything feels more complicated. Ryan is the father of this baby. I can’t just shut him out now that he knows.

I stare out at the darkening sky, the baby shifting inside me, a reminder that this decision isn’t just about me anymore.

What should I do now little one?