Page 59 of Billionaire Temptations

“No. It’s okay. I can see you’re busy. I’m going to go.” In that instant, I saw him break. He turned and started walking down the hallway.

Oh no, he doesn’t. He’s not walking away this time.

“Max, the baby is yours. You’re going to be a father,” I blurted out in the open hallway.

He stopped dead in his tracks and waited a few moments before turning around. He slowly walked back to my door and stepped inside. The most awkward and scariest moment of my life was now happening.

“I thought you were Molly.”

“Sorry to drop by unannounced, but you hadn’t answered my text message, and I figured you wouldn’t answer my calls either.”

“You’re right. I wouldn’t have.” I turned and walked to the kitchen and washed my hands under the warm water.

“Were you painting?” he asked as I had my back turned to him.

The emotions that were running through me were almost unbearable. I felt like it was getting harder to breathe.

“Yeah. I was painting the nursery.” I took in a deep, long breath. I needed to remain calm for the baby’s sake. I dried my hands on the towel, waiting for the question I knew was coming.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were pregnant?”

And there it was. The question I had been waiting for.

“You were already gone.” My voice quivered.

He took a seat at the table and placed his face in his hands. “You could have called.” He slammed his fists down on the table, and I flinched.

“And you could have told me goodbye in person. Not in the form of a fucking letter! You coward!” I screamed.

He ran his hand through his hair and lightly shook his head. “You can’t be yelling like that or getting upset. It’s not good for the baby. Please, Emma. Please come and sit down.”

“I don’t want to sit down! Who the hell do you think you are coming back here to see me? I’ve moved on from you, Max. I got my shit together after you left, and I’m doing what’s right for my baby.”

“OUR baby!” he spoke in anger.

“My baby! This is my baby!” I yelled as I walked over to him with a pointed finger. “I’m the one who’s been sick every day and exhausted, barely making it through my classes. The one who’s done all the shopping and planning and crying while trying to figure out how the hell I was going to raise a baby on my own while you were sitting in your plush luxury office in FUCKING Chicago!”

He got up and lightly took hold of my arm. “Emma, please.”

“Don’t. Don’t you touch me!” I jerked away from him and crossed my arms, walking over to the window and staring out at the Hudson River. This was my go-to place when I needed to think.

“I left that note because I couldn’t bear to look into your beautiful eyes and say goodbye. Do you think I enjoyed writing that letter? Do you think it made me happy? NO! I’ve been miserable in Chicago. I buried myself so deep into my work and company that I barely slept, and when I did sleep, I dreamt of you. Every fucking night, Emma! You haunted my dreams. I tried to forget about you. I wanted to forget about you because the way I felt scared the fuck out of me.”

I wiped the tears that fell down my face, but I still wouldn’t turn around and look at him.

“I needed to get out of New York and away from my father. That was my plan all along. I didn’t plan on falling for you. I knew the first time I met you at the club in Miami, I was already head over heels. I tried not to fall in love with you. Why the hell do you think you didn’t see me every day? Why do you think I would let a week go by without seeing you? I was trying tostop my feelings, but it was too hard while we were both in New York. You were too close, and I thought that maybe, just maybe, moving to Chicago and not seeing you would help, but it didn’t. The night I sent you that text message, I had been drinking. It was the only way I could muster up the courage to do it. I was hurt when you didn’t text me back, but I understood because I knew I had hurt you by leaving the way I had. For fuck’s sake, Emma. Will you turn around and look at me?”

I slowly turned around and stared at the wounded man across the room, who possessed the same look I once had and maybe still had.

“I spent too many months trying to forget you. You have no idea how scared and alone I was,” I spewed.

“I’m sorry. Can we please, at least for tonight, just push all the anger away and talk? Just talk and catch up?” he spoke in a lowered voice. “I would do anything to change the past. I’m so sorry, Emma. You have to believe me.”

The truth was that I did believe him, and being angry wasn’t helping the baby.

“Fine. Let’s talk then.”

“Can I see the nursery?”

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