Chapter 9
640words
It all started when I discovered the flirtatious text messages his secretary had sent him. In a fit of anger, I demanded that he fire her.
He flipped out on the spot. "Don't overstep! My contacts are not for you to control! You're seriously out of your mind. Go cool off!"
He told the driver to dump me on the side of the road in pouring rain and drove home alone. Emilio found me soaked to the bone, shivering, and took me home.
I caught a cold and had a fever. When Emilio called Harry to let him know I was sick, I overheard Harry's mocking laughter on the other end of the line.
"Don't bother with her. She just loves playing the pitiful role," he sneered. "I've never heard of anyone dying from a fever. Tell her to call me when she's better."
Emilio stayed up all night taking care of me. Now I had already lost count of how many times I had come home in his car. It felt like he had a perfect routine for taking care of me—always bending down to hand me slippers, helping me out of my coat, drying my sweaty hair with a towel, and handing me a cup of hot tea.
He had never truly left my life. He always appeared silently, doing everything for me with such tenderness, yet never once asking for anything in return.
He leaned over, dropping a kiss on my forehead. "Because you always keep that little doll keychain I gave you in your bag. It has a tracker in it. As long as you're carrying it, I can find you anytime, anywhere, and be by your side in minutes."
That doll was my coming-of-age gift from him. It had been with me for almost ten years now.
"How long have you liked me?" I asked.
Without a second thought, he replied, "21 years. I fell for you at first sight, though I didn't understand what love was back then. By the time I did, you were already in love with Harry. Julia, I've never lied to you. I love you, but I believe loving you means letting you be happy, even if it wasn't with me."
His words struck me like a thunderbolt. I had never imagined that he felt this deeply. All those years, I had been so caught up with Harry, blind to all the quiet sacrifices Emilio had made for me behind the scenes.
The tenderness lasted all of three seconds before my stomach lurched. I bolted to the bathroom and barely made it to the toilet before I started vomiting.
"That drug Violet gave me is no joke," I muttered. "I still feel awful the next day."
But as I wiped my mouth, something clicked. "Vomiting? Morning sickness?"
I turned and looked at Emilio, who was still gloriously naked. It struck me that we had skipped the precautions both times.
My period was two months late, which was not a good sign. I thought back to my time with Harry. We were together for seven years, and nothing had ever happened.
Emilio seemed to sense my doubts. Without missing a beat, he called his assistant for a pregnancy test.
Five minutes later, two blazing red lines stared up at us. I threw on my clothes, grabbed his hand, and we rushed to the hospital.
On the way, he kept reassuring me, "Chill, Julia. No matter what the outcome is, I will take full responsibility."
I looked at him and asked the question that mattered most. "Can I choose not to keep the baby?"
We both knew that a child from the Hardin–Nolan marriage contract would lock in Emilio's inheritance forever.
He looked me in the eye with utmost sincerity. "Yes."
