Ch: 3 The Child He Wanted.

​Nerissa’s POV

​"Is the soup not to your liking, Seraphina, you've been pushing it around your bowl for ten minutes and I’d hate for the kitchen's effort to go to waste," Malia said with a polite but tight smile while she watched Lysander’s guest at the Sunday family dinner.

We were all gathered in the formal dining room, the atmosphere heavy because Lysander had insisted on bringing Seraphina along, claiming she was feeling under the weather and shouldn't be left alone.

​"I’m so sorry, Malia, I think the heat in the gallery earlier just got to me and my stomach has been doing somersaults all afternoon," Seraphina replied in a faint voice, leaning slightly toward Lysander. He dropped his spoon and placed a hand on her shoulder, his face etched with a level of concern that I hadn't seen him show for anyone in years.

​"Maybe you should go upstairs and lie down for a moment, or I can have the driver take you home right now if it’s that bad," Lysander suggested, but before she could answer, Seraphina’s face went pale and she slumped forward, her wine glass shattering against the mahogany table as she slid toward the floor.

​"Seraphina! Someone call an ambulance, now!" Lysander roared while he scrambled out of his seat and scooped her into his arms, completely knocking over my chair.

I stood there, frozen against the wall as the room erupted into chaos, watching my husband cradle another woman while he barked orders at the household staff.

​"Lysander, clear the path, let the guards get the car ready!" Xander shouted, stepping forward to open the dining room doors.

​"I'm taking her myself, get out of my way!" Lysander snapped back, his voice thick with panic, and he didn't look in my direction once as he carried her toward the entrance, leaving the rest of us standing in the wreckage of the dinner.

​The hospital waiting room felt like a tomb a few hours later, and I sat on the edge of a plastic chair while Xander paced back and forth, Malia staring at the floor in

. Talia was the only one who seemed excited, her eyes darting toward the hallway until Lysander finally emerged from the private wing, looking pale but strangely calm.

​"How is she, Lysander? Is she going to be okay?" Talia asked while she rushed toward him, grabbing his arm as he stopped in the center of the room.

​"She’s fine, the doctor said she was just dehydrated and exhausted, but there’s something else," Lysander said, a slow, stunned smile spreading across his face. "Seraphina is pregnant, she’s nearly ten weeks along."

​The silence that followed was deafening until Xander let out a heavy breath. "My God, Lysander, do you have any idea what kind of scandal this is going to cause while you’re still married to Nerissa?"

​"I don't care about the scandal, Father, I'm going to be a father," Lysander said, his voice dropping into a soft tone that made my blood run cold. I watched him and the truth hit me because he had spent five years forcing me to take pills and accusing me of trying to trap him, yet here he was, looking at the world with wonder because the woman he actually loved was carrying his child. He didn't hate the idea of being a father, he just hated the idea of me being the mother.

​"This is amazing, I’m finally going to be an aunt to a baby that actually belongs in this family!" Talia squealed, clapping her hands together. "We need to start planning things right away, Lysander, this changes everything."

​"Talia, lower your voice, this is not the time or the place for that discussion," Malia reprimanded, her eyes instantly shifting to me with deep worry.

​"Why should we hide it, Mother? Lysander is finally getting the future he actually deserves," Talia shot back, rolling her eyes.

​"I think I should leave you all to your celebration," I said quietly, turning around and walking out of the hospital entrance before Malia could stop me, my heart hammering against my ribs as I drove myself to a different clinic across town where nobody knew the Blackwood name.

​I sat in a small, dim examination room twenty minutes later, the crinkle of the paper on the table sounding loud in the quiet space while an older doctor reviewed my charts. "The blood tests are definitive, Mrs. Vane, you are approximately seven weeks pregnant, and while your hormone levels are a bit low due to stress, the pregnancy is viable."

​I stared at the small, grainy ultrasound photo she handed me, but I felt a paralyzing fear because I could still hear his voice telling me he refused to be trapped by a mistake, and I wondered what he would do if he knew that the wife he despised was carrying the exact thing he had just celebrated with another woman.

​"Are you alright? You haven't said a word," the doctor asked, looking at me with concern.

​"I’m just tired, thank you for everything," I whispered, tucking the photo deep into my handbag before I walked back out to my car. I sat in the driver’s seat for a long time, debating whether I should go back and tell him the truth, but the image of his soft expression at the hospital kept playing on a loop in my head. If I told him now, he would only think I was competing with Seraphina or trying to force him to stay, and I couldn't handle seeing his face turn from joy to disgust.

​When I finally pulled into the driveway of the estate, the lights were low and the house was quiet. I walked into the living room and saw Lysander asleep on the couch, still wearing his dress shirt from dinner, looking exhausted from his hours of playing the protective partner to Seraphina. Usually, I would have found a blanket and tucked it around him, but tonight I just stared at him for a second and then walked straight past him toward the stairs.

​I went into our bedroom and locked the door, pulling out my laptop and logging into an encrypted email account that I hadn't touched in months. My fingers didn't tremble this time as I pulled up the contact for the Vane family legal office, because the path ahead was finally starting to look clear.

​I typed out a single sentence and hit send before I closed the screen and crawled into bed. "Prepare the Geneva branch, I may be coming home sooner than expected.”