Page 52 of A Baby For Her Billionaire BFF

But then there’s Riverside, the property I acquired after years of negotiations. It’s the biggest project I’ve tackled yet, a sprawling development that could make or break my career. The pressure is immense and suffocating, and it’s all I’ve got to cling to — a tangible goal in a sea of uncertainties.

I need to focus, to pour everything I’ve got into making sure it’s a success. No distractions, no slip-ups. That’s what I keep telling myself, even as guilt gnaws at my conscience, reminding me that I’m failing Nora. I’m failing the baby.

“Look, Oliver,” Ben tries again, his tone softer this time. “Whatever it is, you don’t have to handle it alone.”

“I said drop it, Ben!” My voice cuts through the noise of the city, and he noticeably flinches.

But I can’t seem to rein in the frustration, the sheer panic clawing at my throat, threatening to expose every vulnerability I’ve fought to keep hidden.

“All right.” He holds up his hands in surrender, and I know I’ve pushed him too far.

As he walks ahead to hail a cab, I fall into step behind him, feeling the chasm widen with every step.

I should apologize and try to explain, but what would I even say? That I’m terrified of being a father? That the thought of balancing family and business feels like a puzzle with missing pieces?

I feel like a terrible person even admitting those things to myself. I can’t say them to someone else.

Instead, I stay silent, hating myself more with each passing second because I know deep down that I’m making choices I might regret forever. But Riverside won’t build itself, and right now, it demands every shred of attention I can muster.

“Let’s just get back to the office,” I mutter, sliding into the cab after Ben, already dreading the mountain of work waiting for me. A mountain that seems like the only thing standing firm when everything else is slipping through my fingers.

CHAPTER 26

NORA

Iswallow hard, feeling the coolness of my car’s steering wheel beneath my fingertips. It’s been days since I last set foot in the office, days since my life turned into a roller coaster with no end in sight. But today, the persistent nausea has finally granted me a reprieve, and though my stomach still churns with unease, it’s due to nerves rather than morning sickness.

I take a deep breath, trying to muster the courage to face what awaits me. My colleagues, the workload… Oliver.

The thought of him sends a sharp pang through my chest, a reminder of all the words left unsaid between us — words that now feel like we’ll never have a chance to say. We haven’t spoken since the day I told him about the pregnancy, and the silence that hangs between us is heavy with implications I’m not ready to face.

The walk to the office building does nothing to settle my nerves. Each step feels like wading through quicksand, yet somehow, I manage to make it to my desk without falling apart. I power up my computer, the familiar startup sound offering a slice of normalcy.

But even the mundane task of sifting through emails can’t keep reality at bay for long. A new message pops up, the subject line catching my eye: “Job Opportunity.”

Curiosity piqued, I click it open, skimming the contents. It’s from a contact at a local law firm, one smaller than the corporate giant I currently work for but still with a reputation for valuing their staff’s work-life balance. They’re looking for an experienced lawyer to join their ranks — a position that would’ve excited me once upon a time.

Now, however, the idea of starting over, especially with a baby on the way and uncertainty clouding every aspect of my future, feels daunting. Besides, despite the turmoil swirling within me, this job — my current job — is part of who I am. It’s the dream I’ve worked relentlessly to achieve.

“Thanks, but no thanks,” I whisper under my breath, drafting a polite but firm refusal.

The salary they’re hinting at couldn’t possibly match what I earn here, and as much as everything else seems to be slipping through my fingers, I can’t afford to let go of the financial stability this job provides. Yes, things are complicated — to put it nicely — between me and Oliver, but I need to think practically. The pay here is too good to let go of, and soon enough I’ll have a kid to care for.

With a click, I send the email on its way, a small part of me mourning the lost opportunity. But bigger things are at stake now, and I can’t afford to be swayed by what-ifs and maybes — not when every decision I make from here on out isn’t just about me anymore.

A knock on the door draws my gaze away from the screen. Jenna stands there, smiling. “Hey. How are you feeling?”

“Good. Thanks. I’m over the worst of it.” I haven’t told anyone here about the pregnancy yet, and other than speaking with HR to coordinate my maternity leave, I’m not sure I’ll ever mention it.

Especially because people will surely suspect Oliver is the father, and that will stir up more drama than I care to entertain.

“You ready for the team meeting?” Jenna asks.

That’s right. We have a team meeting this morning. With Oliver.

My stomach twists, and I blink. “Uh, yeah. Ready.” With shaky legs, I stand and follow her out of the room.

The boardroom feels more like an ice chamber today. I slide into my seat, clutching the leather binder a little too tightly. My palms are sweating, and it’s not just from the nervousness of presenting my case strategy to the partners. No, it’s the presence of Oliver, sitting across the table, his attention fixed on the screen of his laptop, that has me wound up in knots.

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