Mommy Please Come Back, Daddy Is Sorry

~Isla~

“It’s good news.” The doctor said with a gentle smile.

I had woken up that 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 stopped for a moment. I blinked. “Pregnant? I’m pregnant?” I asked like I’ve never heard of that word before.

Of course I wasn’t expecting it… I mean, I’m not even allowed to imagine being pregnant, so it’s a big shock to me. A wave of warmth spread through my chest despite the shock. For five long years in this cold, loveless marriage, I had stopped hoping for miracles. But this little life growing inside me felt like one.

My chest rose and fell in quick, uneven breaths. I fought 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, even when my heart is bursting.

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.

I spent the rest of the afternoon preparing. I chose my best dress: a soft cream one that hugged my petite hourglass figure and made my ivory skin look almost ethereal. I took extra time with my hair and makeup, making sure my deep brown eyes looked bright and hopeful. Then I went into the kitchen and cooked everything myself. His favorite steak with garlic butter, roasted vegetables, and a rich sauce. The dining table was set beautifully with fresh flowers and the finest china we owned. My hands trembled with nervous excitement the entire time.

The roar of his car broke me out of my thoughts. I jumped 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 surrounded me as he entered; that strong, dark scent he never changed. His heavy footsteps made my heart jump even faster.

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

He didn’t even look at me at first. I had taken so much time making sure I looked perfect to break this news, but the man didn’t even glance my way.

And I couldn’t stop staring at him, mesmerized every time. I quickly looked away before he glared at me. He hates the stares.

“I… I want to tell you something…” I said, my heart racing, fingers digging into my palms at my sides.

“What?” His voice, deep and honey-filled, made my skin prickle.

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

He didn’t react at first, his expression blank as always. But something shifted in his deep blue eyes, a flicker of surprise, maybe even a hidden spark of something warmer. He stayed silent for a long moment.

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

My throat tightened. “About two weeks ago. On the night of Cara’s birthday party… you got drunk and…”

“And you didn’t stop me?” he hissed.

“I… I was drunk too,” I said, even though I remembered every single second of that night clearly. I had enjoyed every touch, every moment. But I couldn’t admit that. Not to him.

He looked at me, then nodded slowly. “Okay.”

“Will you have dinner with me?” I asked, trailing behind him before he could disappear into his private wing of the house the part I was never allowed near.

He stopped walking. “Alright.”

My eyes widened. 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. Maybe this child would finally heal the wounds from his mother’s betrayal. Maybe he secretly wanted a family after all.

“Yes!” I exclaimed when he disappeared, rushing back to the table. I checked everything again, the food was still warm, the wine was poured, the candles were lit. This was the first time he would eat something I made with my own hands.

He returned to the table after a while, his expression still unreadable. That was fine. At least he wasn’t wearing one of his usual scowls or that cold gaze that made me feel invisible.

“Uh… how was work today?” I asked, trying to break the heavy silence as we started eating. Hopefully, he would engage. Maybe tomorrow he would ask how I was feeling.

“Handled,” he said without looking at me.

I pressed my lips together, a small sting of hurt hitting me, but I pushed it down. I wished he would tell me everything that happened at the office. He wouldn’t. Not yet. But I believed we would get there someday. This baby would change him.

I watched him eat, my heart full of quiet hope. For the first time in years, the huge mansion didn’t feel so empty. Maybe we could finally become a real family.

Just as I opened my mouth to ask if he wanted more food, the front door burst open with a loud bang.

“Isla, you fucking whore!”

Cara’s sharp, venomous voice echoed through the dining room as she stormed in, holding up a familiar red pantie.

My blood ran cold.