Billionaire's Pregnant Ex-wife

“I want a divorce,” my husband, Grey Bradford, announced in a freezing-cold tone.

The words felt too heavy to be real. 

For a few seconds, I simply stared at him, because the words I wanted to say were drowned out by the violent pounding of my heart.

Deep down, I had always known he would one day ask for a divorce, especially after his first love returned to the country after spending five years in Paris.

I had seen the subtle changes in him ever since Natalia returned. The way he became distant whenever I tried to ask what was wrong. I had noticed all of it. I had simply chosen not to believe what my heart was already telling me.

What I hadn’t expected was for him to finally say those words tonight during what I had believed was a romantic dinner between husband and wife.

I lifted my head to look him straight in the eye, a bitter smile gracing my lips as the word tumbled from my trembling lips.

“Why?”

Grey’s expression remained calm, almost annoyingly so. “I’ve always wanted a son, Lily. God knows how long I’ve waited, but I can’t keep waiting forever.”

My fingers curled beneath the table. I felt a lump form in my throat as unwelcome memories flooded back. Dylan, our son, had died two years ago in a tragic car accident.

I could still remember the sound of the screeching tires. The shattered glass. The smell of smoke. The way my hands had trembled as I desperately tried to reach him. And to this day, I still blamed myself for losing him. There wasn't a single night when I didn't wish I could trade my life for his.

Sometimes, I wondered whether I would ever stop hearing his laughter in my dreams. Whether I would ever be able to walk past a little boy without wondering what Dylan would have looked like at that age.

Grey had lost a son too. We had mourned together once. Or at least, I had believed we had. After losing our only child, something between us had changed. We had both become two different people.

Despite the pain, we tried to conceive again, but despite years of effort, I had failed to get pregnant. Every negative pregnancy test felt like another piece of hope being taken from me.

I had endured doctor's appointments, medications, painful procedures, and countless nights lying awake wondering what was wrong with my body.

After losing our only child, perhaps God deemed us unworthy to have children since we had failed to protect the only one we'd had.

“We are both miserable in this marriage,” Grey continued. “We have to let go and start separate lives. It's what's best for us.”

His voice sounded so calm. I searched his face for a trace of regret, sadness, even a hint of the pain I was feeling. There was nothing, making me wonder if he had ever truly cared for or loved me.

This man I thought I had known for so long was a complete stranger now because the Grey I knew would never abandon me so cruelly. The Grey I married would have held my hand through the hardships. He would have reminded me that losing Dylan wasn't my fault.

But the man sitting across from me now looked at me as though our four years together were nothing more than a mistake he was finally correcting. He wanted a divorce not because I couldn't conceive. That was merely a convenient excuse to be with the woman he had loved since he was eighteen. Natalia Romani.

But who was I to judge him?

Natalia, the stunning Italian model, was his ex-fiancée. She chose her career over marriage and left him to fulfill her dreams in Paris. If she hadn't left, Grey would never have married me.

After all, I was just a temporary replacement, a tool to spite his father, who had married his mistress after his mother left.

Until now, his father hadn't forgiven him for marrying someone like me. I knew exactly what his father thought of me. I wasn't good enough for his son. Perhaps he had been right all along.

My gaze shifted back to Grey's face. It was foolish, but I swallowed my pride. We had made a vow at the altar to be there for each other for better or worse. I wasn't letting him go without a fight, just as I had promised myself the day we got married. Maybe there was still something worth saving. Maybe the man I loved was still somewhere beneath the bitterness in his eyes.

“I’m doing my best to conceive a child, Grey. Let’s wait for a year, and if I’m still unable to bear a son by then, I will agree to a divorce.”

The words left my mouth before I could reconsider them. It was humiliating to bargain for my own marriage. Yet I was willing to do it. For my husband.

Grey shook his head.

For the first time, I realized how exhausted he looked. As if even sitting across from me had become a burden. “I’m tired of waiting, Lily. I want a child, and if you can't give me what I want, then I have no reason to stay in this marriage.”

His sharp words drilled straight through my heart. No reason to stay? Was that all I had become to him? A woman who had failed to give him another child?

“What about our years together? Everything we've been through. Does none of that matter?”

His silence answered me before he did.

I reached for his hand. It was a desperate gesture, almost instinctive. I only wanted to hold on to the man who had once held me through nightmares and promised he would never leave me alone. But the moment my fingers brushed against his, he quickly pulled away as though my touch burned him.

My hand remained suspended between us for a second before slowly falling back into my lap.

“My mind's made up. There's nothing you can do to change it.” There was no mistaking the finality in his voice.

“But—”

Grey cut me off sharply with his scathing gaze. “I've wasted four years of my life with you. It's time for me to move on and let go. Like it or not, I'm filing for divorce.”

My jaw dropped. Four years of loving him and he called it wasted time. I gave up everything for him, even my only chance to pursue my dream career because I love him. Yet in the end, all I received in return was heartbreak.

If only Dylan, our son, hadn't died in that accident, this would never have happened. Grey would never have thought of divorce. Perhaps we would still have been a family.

I wanted to scream. I wanted to throw something. I wanted to make him feel even a fraction of the pain that was tearing me apart inside. But I held myself.

I gathered my composure and looked him in the eyes. A pair of beautiful gray eyes stared back at me. They used to be filled with warmth whenever they met mine. Now they held nothing but chilling civility.

Perhaps our marriage hadn't ended tonight. Perhaps it had ended long before. I had simply been too afraid to admit it.

“You're right,” I whispered, surprising myself with how steady my voice sounded.

Grey's expression flickered with surprise. Perhaps he expected me to cling to him the way I had spent years clinging to our marriage.

But I was done. Done diminishing myself for a man who had already checked out of our marriage long ago.

He opened his mouth, but I raised my hand, silencing him. For the first time that night, I didn't care what he had to say.

I gracefully rose from my chair with a hardened expression. The woman who had walked into this restaurant hoping to save her marriage was gone.

“You know what's ironic, Grey? An apple doesn't fall far from the tree. You're exactly like your father—leaving your wife for someone you claim to have always loved. The only difference is that your father had the courage to admit it.”

I watched as his face contorted with rage. If there was one thing Grey hated most, it was being compared to his father.

“Don't you dare compare me to him,” he growled, his hands clenched into fists at his sides.

I stepped back, creating a physical distance that matched the emotional chasm between us.

“I've done my best to be the perfect wife to you and made countless sacrifices to keep us together, but ultimately, I failed. Perhaps you're right; we need space.”

The words hurt. God, they hurt more than I could ever explain. But I wouldn't take them back.

“If divorce is what you want, then I'm giving it to you.”