Page 73 of Falling for Mr. Billionaire

I roll my eyes. “Come on, Ness. I don’t wanna go,” I whine, pouting like a toddler denied dessert. “I’ve been working from home for months. I don’t even have anything that fits me.”

“I don’t have anything to wear either,” she says with a shrug. “Which is exactly why we need to go shopping.”

“Oooh,” I say, perking up. “It has been a while.” I throw my hand in the air like I’m pitching a fashion line. “I can see it now—we find you something that says, ‘I’m not for sale… but this cat is negotiable.’”

Vanessa bursts out laughing. “What does that even mean? What would I wear for that? A tight red dress with a hole cut out right at the bottom?”

“Exactly,” I say with a wicked grin. “Yours red. Mine black. Classic combo.”

“Or,” she says, catching her breath, “we could wear gowns. You know, like grown-ups.”

We both laugh until we can’t breathe. And just like that, I feel like myself again—for a minute, at least.

The next morning, she picks me up and we go dress shopping. The moment she said it, we both knew I was going. That’s how we work—always have each other’s backs, no matter what.

While I’m trying on a flowy green number that actually makes me feel halfway human, my phone buzzes from the bench where I left it. Vanessa picks it up, then freezes.

She stares at the screen.

“Why is Carter calling you?” she asks, brows knitting.

I pull the curtain aside, halfway zipped into the dress. “I don’t know. He sent me a text a few days ago, and I didn’t respond. Maybe he’s following up.”

Vanessa stares at me like I’ve grown a second head. “Wait, what? Now you’re ghosting him?”

I shrug. “Whoa, whoa—okay, let’s not throw around heavy accusations like ghosted. He texted ‘hey,’ and then followed it up with ‘can we talk.’ That’s not exactly deep.”

“And you ignored it?”

I zip the dress the rest of the way and step out. “No. I didn’t ignore him. He ignored me. For months. I sent a thumbs down emoji. That felt fair.”

Her jaw drops. “You sent him a thumbs down?”

“Yup. And when he followed up with ‘please,’ I left him on read.”

Vanessa collapses onto the bench, rubbing my back. “You are an unhinged legend, and I love you deeply.”

It might look like I’m being petty, but that’s not it. I’m just too pregnant, too moody, and too damn tired to wrap myself up in Carter’s chaos right now.

Do I love him? Oh, god… yes. Every inch of me still does. But does he love me? Clearly not. I’ve got an appointment coming up to find out the baby’s sex, and when I do, I’ll share it with him because he deserves to know. But until then?

There’s nothing else to say.

Not until he decides he actually wants to talk to me—not just the mother of his child.

Three days later…

After the appointment, I sit in my car for a long time.

The sonographer was sweet and gentle. She asked if the father was coming. I smiled and said no, but that I’d tell him soon. She didn’t ask any more questions after that.

A little boy is growing inside me. Mine. Ours.

I press my hand to my stomach and feel him shift, like he knows I’m thinking about him. And his daddy Carter.

I open the voice memo app on my phone. I stare at the red record button for a second before tapping it.

I take a breath and begin.

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