The Billionaire’s Baby(4)

That felt like so long ago. So, so much had changed. Karina had been an enemy, not an ally. Alissa had helped renovate my shop and was now marrying my father in law. I hadn't even known Lewis's name, or Harry's.

And this...this little one inside of me wasn't a part of my life at all. I would never have seen the baby coming, not from a mile away.

My hands smoothed again over my stomach, which hadn't swollen even an inch yet. I didn't know what kind of person this baby would be, or whether it would be a daddy's girl or a mommy's boy, or whether it would love to bake or hate to sing.

How was it possible to care so deeply about something that you couldn't even touch? It was hard to remember it was real sometimes, that a tiny little person was growing inside of me.

Sliding my hands under my shirt, I pressed my palms fully against the bare skin of my stomach, eyes closing, as though I could listen through the tips of my fingers for any sign that there was something in there. Nothing but a slight quell of queasiness responded to me.

The bathroom door opened again, Sebastian slipping back out. He stood in the doorway, where the dim light of fading dusk illuminated his fine-looking, tan face. His expert fingers made quick work of his tie, smoothing out the jacket of his expensive suit.

Hesitantly, he crossed the room, standing in front of me at the foot of the bed, his fingers shifting towards where my own hands rest on my stomach.

For a moment he was quiet, and I cracked open an eye, patiently watched him, curiosity peaking.

Then, his perfect lips parted, lingering question on his lips before he solemnly pursed his lips, abandoning the conversation I could tell he wished to have.

He retreated to the corner of the hotel room where he sat in a chair, sliding thick, expensive black shoes on his perfectly manicured feet.

"You should get ready as well." He finally spoke, twinge of gloom in the musical lilt of his voice.

With only a nod of agreement, I slid to the floor, padding across the soft aqua carpet to the large walk in closet. Deftly, I changed into a simple pink dress. Fortunately, once you get pregnant, apparently no one expects you to care about fashion anymore, showing or not. At least that meant that I wouldn't be judged for my choice of outfit. At least not as outwardly as normal, anyways.

The frock I’d chosen, with a simple shimmery scoop neck and low back, fit snug around the ribs and flared out from there. I looked a bit round in it, but I was more comfortable in this than I had anything else I'd ever been asked to wear by the Davis's. I barely ever even picked out my clothes anymore because everyone else had such a say in it.

"You're representing us every time you step outside, Macy!' Karina always scolded when I tried to escape in a comfy shirt and jeans.

She would refuse to stop pestering me until I changed into stiffly starched blouse and slacks. And believe me when I say, 'sneakers' or 'flip flops' were not words in that woman's dictionary.

The baby had fortunately given me a bit of leverage there, though not much.

"You look beautiful." Sebastian murmured politely, as he always did when we prepared to go somewhere together. It was hard to tell whether he was just being cordial or serious.

I simply smiled back at him, reflecting back his polite civility. This was our marriage now, so chaste and chilly, it was a miracle a baby was produced from the union  . People were bound to think that it was a product of miraculous conception or something.

I gathered my shimmery, champagne colored clutch, momentarily lamenting that I wasn't going to be able to drink anything to help me get through this night.

This wasn't even the freaking real wedding, only the rehearsal dinner. Maybe I could fake some pregnancy sickness and slip out of the reception at least...

Sebastian guided me to the elevator, where we stood side by side, again in complete, stony silence. I'd grown accustomed to this, I didn't expect anything else. Though the billionaire's arm was wrapped carefully around my own, and my fingers rest against his strong forearm, it was as though we were each in our own little bubbles. It was as though we were each on separate worlds, hurtling away from each other at light speed.

Somewhere in my heart, I'd long accepted the fact that Sebastian felt nothing for me. Surely that was the truth, or he would show at least a shred of familiarity with me, a shred of affection, a shred of whatever was brewing in his handsome head.

But he didn't.

Sebastian showed me nothing below a fake smile. I'd known when we got married that we were doing it just for show, that we were joining our lives together for the sake of our businesses and for the sake of money and convenience, and yet, I had expected something to grow. I remembered the flurry of hope I felt six months ago at our wedding, and again on that single steamy night together. Where were those flutters of optimism now? Where had they gone?