Billionaire's Regret: Second Chance At Love

(Allison’s POV)

“I’m pregnant.” Those were the words I had rehearsed in my mind over and over again as I anxiously waited for Scott to arrive at the coffee shop where I’d asked him to meet me.

Scott and I had been together for two years now. He wasn’t just my boyfriend—he was my best friend, my lover, my greatest support. He’d always showered me with affection, making me feel like I was the only woman in the world. It was one of the things I loved most about him. That’s why I was so beyond excited to share the news of my pregnancy with him. I knew he’d be thrilled. He has to be. And maybe, just maybe, he’d finally put a ring on my finger. The thought of marrying Scott and waking up beside him every morning, seeing his handsome face—his chiseled jaw, and striking blue eyes,—had always felt like a dream come true. I loved him deeply, and I’d always believed he loved me just as much.

“Allie.”

His voice—deep, familiar, and steady—broke into my thoughts, snapping me back to reality. My heart skipped a beat, and I turned around, finally locking eyes with him. There he was, standing in the doorway, looking as handsome as ever. I couldn’t help but smile.

“Scott!” I exclaimed, rising from my seat and throwing myself into his arms, eager to feel the warmth of his embrace. But something was off. He didn’t hug me back, didn’t even move. His hands remained buried in his pockets, and I pulled away slowly, my heart pounding in my chest.

“Is everything okay?” I asked, trying to mask the sudden unease that crept into my chest. He wasn’t acting like himself.

Scott nodded, but the smile he forced didn’t reach his eyes. The dimples I adored—the ones that always made me feel like everything was right in the world—looked... hollow. “You wanted to discuss something?” he asked. His voice was calm, but distant, as if his mind were somewhere else entirely, far removed from me.

I hesitated, uncertainty gnawing at me. His behavior felt off, but I tried to brush it aside. Today was too important to let doubts creep in. “Yes,” I said, forcing a nervous smile. “It’s something you’ll want to hear.”

His gaze shifted briefly to his watch before returning to me. “What is it?”

Instead of answering him immediately, I reached out and took his hand gently, guiding him to the chair. “Sit with me,” I said softly, hoping to pull him closer—both physically and emotionally.

As he sat down beside me, I noticed his eyes flick back to his watch again. My heart sank a little more. “Do you have somewhere to be?” I asked, attempting to keep my voice light, but failing to hide the disappointment that crept in.

“No, Allie. I’m here. Just tell me,” he said. But his tone lacked the warmth I was used to. The warmth I desperately needed right now.

I took a deep breath, steadying myself, and summoned every ounce of courage I could find. “I’m pregnant,” I said, my voice trembling, barely a whisper. But it was enough.

I waited for his reaction, my heart pounding in my chest. I expected a look of joy, surprise, or even disbelief—anything that would show me he cared, that he shared in the excitement I felt. But instead, Scott simply stared at me, his eyes blank, his expression unreadable. Seconds stretched into what felt like an eternity. I could feel the weight of his gaze, but there was no warmth in it. No recognition. Just emptiness.

“I’m pregnant, Scott,” I repeated, this time a little louder, hoping to spark some sort of reaction from him. But it was as if his expression moved through various emotions—shock, confusion, determination—too quickly for me to comprehend. After what felt like forever, he finally spoke, his voice flat, devoid of the excitement I had imagined.

"Let’s break up,” he said, his words like a slap in the face.

My world shattered in an instant. “You’re joking, right?” I whispered, my voice barely audible. This couldn’t be happening. This was the man who had promised me forever, the man who had held me close and told me he loved me. Now he was talking about ending things, right when I thought we were on the brink of building a family together?

“I’m not joking, Allie,” he said, his tone wavering slightly. There was a crack in his voice, which I thought might mean he felt something, but then it quickly turned firm and detached. “We need to end this.”

Tears pricked my eyes as a sharp pain twisted in my chest. I felt like I was drowning in the words he had just said. “Scott, you can’t be serious. I’m pregnant with your child! We should be talking about marriage, not a breakup. What are you thinking?” My voice wavered, the hurt and confusion spilling out with each word. I tried to understand, tried to make sense of what was happening, but it was impossible.

Scott’s eyes flicked away from mine, almost as though he couldn’t bear to look at me anymore. “You shouldn’t have gotten pregnant, Allie,” he said, his voice a mixture of coldness and sadness. His words felt like ice, cutting me deeper with every syllable. I couldn’t make sense out of it. How could he blame me for something that was so obviously our responsibility?

“It’s not like I planned this on my own!” I snapped, my voice cracking. The memories of our nights together, our shared moments of love and trust, flooded back in an overwhelming wave. He had been the first man I’d ever loved, the first I’d ever trusted. We were supposed to be in this together, but now, I was alone.

Scott’s jaw tightened. “I am not ready to be a father, Allie. I can barely take care of myself, let alone father a child,” he said, his words cold and sharp, further driving the knife into my heart.

My heart shattered with each word. “So, what are you saying, Scott? Are you leaving me to face this alone when we both participated in it?” My voice cracked as my tears began to fall.

Scott met my gaze one last time, his eyes cold and devoid of any warmth. “That’s why I’m letting you go, Allie. We should break up, and you should also…” He paused, his eyes shifting away before delivering the final blow.

“Get rid of the baby.”