Page 13 of Doctor Billionaire's Surprise Baby

“I’m sure we can work something out.” Where did that flirty tone come from? I was shocked by myself.

“So about…everything,” Hugo started, looking uncharacteristically shy. “I’m really glad you’re willing to consider this and hear me out, Simone.”

“I’ll admit that I have some concerns,” I said.

“That’s understandable. I’ve spent the last few days thinking all of this through and what the best plan – if you agreed – would be. I think I have a pretty solid list of things we can do to lessen the risk.”

I nodded and nearly melted at the smile he gave me.

“But thisisyour choice, Simone. I don’t want to force you or coerce you. I really, genuinely care about you Simone.” He reached for my hand that rested on the table and fireworks shot through my veins. “And I don’t want this to be a one-sided agreement. If you decide you want to do this, consider nursing school paid in full. To make it convincing, you’ll live with me and I will be there to support you. If you need to reduce your schedule to make time, or whatever you need, I will be there. While this might be a –” he looked around and dropped his voice to a whisper “– fake marriage, we would really be partners in it.I’m not here to steamroll you or make you bend to my will. We’d be in this together.”

I resisted the urge to pick up my heart that fell on the floor at his words. Hugo’s eyes were so sincere. He squeezed my hand and I looked at where our skin was connected, completely dumbfounded.

“Wow,” I said on a breath. In that instant, I knew my decision. “I’m in, Hugo. Let’s do this.”

His eyes almost bugged out of his head.

“Are you sure you don’t want to think about it a little longer?”

I only want to be with you, I thought. Instead, I just shook my head.

“Okay, then." He seemed genuinely shocked as he slowly sat back. "Well, there isn’t a huge rush, so we can keep talking about the logistics."

I nodded. After what he said and the days I've had to mull over all of this, it just felt right.

“If we’re doing this, would you be willing to go to Italy with me? I feel like it would be better – and look more real – if we go and talk to my parents in person. Of course, we’ll tell your mom in person as well. Italy is just a bit of a further trek than Quincy,” he said with a laugh.

“Of course, I’ll go to Italy with you.” The words rushed out of my mouth and excitement started to bloom in my chest.

Hugo nodded and his gaze turned more thoughtful.

"Growing up, my parents expected me to take over my father's chain of wineries," he began, his eyes cast downward. "But my passion has always been medicine. I wanted to heal people, not sell them expensive wines."

I watched as Hugo's fingers traced patterns on the white tablecloth, and I could see the weight of the memories pressing down on him. It was as if the burden of expectation shackled him, leaving no room for personal desires.

"Despite their disapproval, I chose to pursue a career in medicine," Hugo continued, his voice laced with defiance. "My parents have always been critical of me, and it's been a constant battle trying to prove myself to them."

I reached across the table, my hand covering his in a gesture of reassurance.

"Hugo, you're an incredible neurosurgeon, and your work speaks for itself. Your parents should be proud of the life you've built."

He looked into my eyes, and for a moment, a flicker of vulnerability crossed his face.

"Thank you, Simone. That means more to me than you know," he admitted, his voice barely a whisper.

"Of course," I continued, my heart swelling with admiration for this man who had forged his own path. "Everything you’ve done with the clinic… You've chosen to make a difference in the lives of countless patients, and that's something no one can take away from you."

Hugo smiled, his eyes shining with gratitude.

"I'm glad I can share this with you, Simone. It's not something I often talk about, but with you, it feels right."

Our connection deepened, the invisible threads binding us together growing stronger with each shared secret. As we sat there in the dimly lit restaurant, surrounded by the murmur of quiet conversations and the clinking of wine glasses, I couldn't help but feel that we were on the precipice of something life-changing.

"Let's toast to following our dreams, Hugo," I suggested, raising my glass.

He grinned, raising his glass to meet mine.

"To dreams worth chasing," he agreed, the sound of our glasses clinking echoing like the promise of a better tomorrow.

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