Mommy Please Come Back, Daddy Is Sorry

~Isla's POV~

“It's good news.” The doctor says with a gentle smile.

I had woken up in the morning with a queasy stomach and a pounding headache. I didn't know what to make of it, and my health is something I never joke with, so I rushed to the hospital. I didn't expect that nagging morning sickness to be good news. What good news?

“Congratulations, Mrs. Calloway, you are three weeks pregnant.”

My brain stops for a moment. I blink. “Pregnant? I'm pregnant?” I ask like I've never heard of that word before.

Of course I'm not expecting it… I mean, I'm not even allowed to imagine being pregnant, so it's a big shock to me.

“Yes,” the doctor nods warmly.

My chest rises and falls in quick, uneven breaths, and I fight the urge to jump on the doctor in excitement, but of course I wouldn't dare. As the wife of the great Marcus Calloway, I'm always expected to maintain composure and elegance.

I'm still in awe. Who could’ve thought one drunken night he didn’t even mean would lead to this?

I never thought I would have a single day of happiness in my five years of marriage. That a miracle would happen… something that could bring us closer together.

Maybe… just maybe he’s going to finally look at me. I’ll finally become something to him.

Five years ago, I was a jewelry designer with the dream of owning the finest brand in the country when my family forced me into a contract marriage with Marcus.

“Do it for us, Isla,” my mother had begged. “It’s the only way to save the company. Think about your brothers, think about your granny’s health. What will happen to the family when we go bankrupt?”

Being left with no choice, I accepted it. It was a sacrifice I made for my family. I never thought I’d fall in love with Marcus the moment I set my eyes on him.

He is a remarkably handsome man, with sharp features and striking blue eyes that pierce right through me. And when he spoke, I felt his deep, commanding voice in my stomach. I have longed to be held by him, to be pressed against his massive chest, his strong arms wrapped around me. Hearing that voice say, “I love you.”

But never, those dreams can only live in my head, for I’m married to a very cold, stoic, and taciturn husband who doesn’t care. Marcus doesn’t look at me, he doesn’t touch me, and he made it clear I’m only a duty to him. We are married but live in separate rooms.

He doesn’t see me… despite everything I’ve done for him and his family, he’s never acknowledged my existence or even spoken to me with warmth.

But now, I believe things will change. Once he learns that I’m carrying his child, he will finally look at me… and hopefully, this baby will bring us closer.

The roar of his car breaks me out of my thoughts. I jump to my feet, my heart thudding wildly.

How do I even break this to him? How will he react? Will he finally look at me and embrace me? Will his eyes soften towards me? Will he demand that I move into his room? Will he stare at me all night?

Shit. Shit. Shit. I’m thinking too much about this… he probably wouldn’t care. But why wouldn’t he? I’m carrying his baby. It’s a child…who wouldn’t care?

His musky cologne surrounds me, it’s the usual dark scent he always uses. My husband likes things that smell strong, and he has never changed his perfume. His footsteps make my heart jump.

“W-welcome,” I mutter, clearing my throat.

He doesn’t even look at me. I’m all dressed up for him, I had taken a lot of time making sure I look perfect to break this news, but the man doesn’t even glance my way.

And I can’t stop staring at him, mesmerized every time. I quickly look away before he glares at me. He hates the stares.

“I… I want to tell you something…” I say, my heart racing, fingers digging into my palms at my sides. Oh God. Help me.

“What?” His voice makes my skin prickle. It’s a deep honey-filled voice that melts me every single time.

I clear my throat again, nervous. “I… I’m pregnant.” I whisper, my eyes never leaving him.

He doesn’t react at first, his expression blank as always, but something shifts in his eyes before he speaks.

“When was the last time I touched you?” he questions firmly.

My throat tightens. “A-about two weeks ago. On the night of Cara’s birthday party… you got drunk and…”

“And you didn’t stop me?” he hisses.

“I… I was drunk too,” I say, despite my promise to never lie or hide anything from him. That face of his is scary, leaving me with no choice but to lie. Besides, how am I supposed to tell him that I can recall everything, and that I enjoyed every bit of it?

He looks at me, then nods. “Okay.”

“Will you have dinner with me?” I ask, trailing behind him before he enters his corner of the house, the corner I’m never allowed near.

He stops walking. “Alright.”

My eyes widen. Did he just agree to sit at the same table with me and have dinner? Oh. My. God.

He’s happy. I know he’s happy that we are having a baby. He may not say it, he may not show it, but I know deep down he’s happy.

“Yes!” I exclaim when he disappears, rushing to the table.

It’s already all set, and I had made all the meals myself. I made his favorite dish and I can’t wait to hear what he thinks about my cooking. It’s the first time he’s going to be eating something I made.

He returns to the table, his expression unreadable. That is fine. At least he isn’t wearing one of his scowls or that cold gaze that makes it impossible to look at him without feeling small.

“Uh… how was work today?” I ask in an attempt to break the heavy silence. Hopefully, he’ll engage in a conversation with me. Maybe tomorrow, he’ll ask how I’m doing.

“Handled,” he says without looking at me.

I press my lips together, hurt because that’s not what I want to hear. I wish he’d tell me everything that happened in the office today. He won’t. But I believe we will get there someday.

“Isla, you fucking whore!” Cara barks as she walks inside, glaring at me as she holds up a red pantie.

My pantie.