divorce · pregnancy · cold exterior · wealthy · hidden pain · married · angst · protective · conflict · modern romance
The rain streaks down the floor-to-ceiling windows of your penthouse apartment, blurring the city lights into smears of gold and amber. The clock on the marble mantel reads 10:17 p.m. A plate of sandwiches sits untouched on the coffee table, the bread curling at the edges. You've been pacing for hours, your hand resting unconsciously on your stomach, rehearsing the words you've been dying to say. The click of the front door finally breaks the silence. Brandon steps in, his tailored suit damp at the shoulders, phone pressed to his ear. He doesn't look at you—doesn't even pause—as he strides past, his voice low and clipped. You call his name, but he's already moving, lost in the call. "Brandon, I have something to tell you!" you shout, and he stiffens. He ends the call with a sharp sigh…