Pregnant and Divorced: My Ex Husband Wants Me Back

EMILY’S POV

Everything looks perfect. I made chicken, garlic butter vegetables, mashed potatoes and other things I know Carlos will love. My hands can’t seem to stop trembling as I arrange the table. I smooth down the linen napkins for the third time, adjust the candles, and glance at the clock. Carlos’s flight landed two hours ago, and he should be walking through that door any minute now.

I inhale deeply, trying my best to calm myself. Yesterday, when the doctor said the words, “You’re pregnant,” I’d sat frozen for a moment, blinking back tears of disbelief and joy. It must have happened during that night—the one time Carlos had let his guard down. The night he had been drunk. It was the first time we had sex.

For a year, I’ve dreamed of moments like this. A family with Carlos. A real chance at love. Maybe...just maybe, this news will be the start of something beautiful between us. This marriage started as a contract but I hope the news of my pregnancy will make Carlos realize that there’s something real here.

The sound of the front door unlocking snaps me out of my thoughts. My heart leaps as I rush to greet him. I can barely contain my excitement.

“Welcome home!” I say, hopping up and down.

Carlos steps inside with an unreadable expression. His presence commands the room without even trying. He looks as effortlessly handsome as ever with his tailored navy suit hugging his broad shoulders. The crisp white shirt beneath his jacket brings out his beautiful brown eyes. His top button is undone just enough to show his muscles.

Strands of his tousled dark hair falls to his face. It makes him look even more handsome.

Carlos is a man who turns heads effortlessly, not just because of his looks but because of the magnetic energy he carries with him. He has this charm that pulls you in. it’s one of the reasons I fell for him.

His lips curve into a small smile when I hug him, and his arms come around me briefly.

“You must be tired,” I say, pulling back to look at him. “Come, dinner’s ready.”

He nods. He looks at me before looking away.

We sit across from each other at the table. I try to draw him into conversation, asking about his trip, his meetings, but his answers are dry and polite.

Something’s off.

I tell myself it’s just fatigue. He’s been gone for two months, after all. He must be exhausted.

The room falls quiet as we finish our plates. I’m gathering the courage to tell him my news when he glances up with a serious expression. I’m basically bouncing in my seat.

“I have something to tell you,” we both say at the same time.

I laugh. Carlos has a serious face on so, I guess what he wants to say is important. The look on his face leaves a sinking feeling in my chest. Whatever he wants to say, it can’t be good.

“You first.” I say with a smile.

He hesitates, and for a moment, I see something flicker in his eyes—uncertainty? I can’t really describe it.

Then he exhales slowly. “She’s back. Let’s get a divorce.”

The words hit me like a slap. For a moment, I can’t breathe, can’t think.

She’s back.

Of course.

The woman he’s always loved.

My stomach twists as reality crashes down on me. I should’ve known. This year of shared meals, laughter and companionship was nothing more than a dream. I was the placeholder.

“Alright,” I hear myself say. The words come out before I can even stop them.

His brow furrows. “You remember our agreement, don’t you?”

“Yes,” I whisper, nodding.

I remember. Our marriage was never real. It was a favor to my grandmother. We put on a façade for society. But somewhere along the way, I forgot.

He leans forward and his voice softens “Emily, even if we divorce, I’ll still be your brother. I’ll take care of you like family.”

Family. The word twists in my chest.

Is that all I am to him? I don’t see Carlos as a brother. I never did. I’ve loved him since we were teenagers. How do I let go of that?

I can’t hear any more of this. I just want this to be over and done with. I can’t bear it. it’s too much.

“When do we sign the papers?” I ask abruptly, cutting him off.

Carlos’s lips press into a thin line, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Tomorrow. My assistant will handle it.” He pauses, then adds, “You’ll be well taken care of. I’ll make sure you get everything you need—money, property—”

“Stop,” I say “I don’t need any of that.”

He never knew. I don’t need this. the money, the property, the investments – they mean nothing to me. I’ll give them up for him in a heartbeat. All I want is him. Carlos is all I’ve ever wanted since the first moment I saw him.

After dinner, Carlos announces that he’s going to bed. After cleaning the dishes, I walk to the hallway, heading towards the guest room. I’m eager to go to the room and cry my eyes out. As I walk further, my heart gets heavier with each step. The pain I feel is unbearable.

But as I turn the corner, his voice stops me in my tracks.

“Why aren’t you going to the master bedroom?” he asks in a sharp tone.

I glance over my shoulder, startled to see him standing there with his arms crossed and eyes fixed on me.

I swallow hard, forcing my voice to stay calm. “We’re getting divorced, aren’t we? It’s better to keep some distance.”

His jaw tightens, “Until the papers are signed, we’re still husband and wife,” he says firmly. “The guest room hasn’t been cleaned. Go sleep in the master bedroom.”

I shake my head “I’m fine in the guest room.”

His response is immediate and leaves room for no argument. “No, you’re not.”

Before I can protest further, he closes the distance between us in two strides. His hand wraps around my arm, firm but not rough, and he guides me toward the master bedroom.

“Carlos,” I say, my voice rising as I try to pull back. “You’re tired from your trip. You should sleep in the bed.”

He ignores me as he pushes the door open. “I’ll sleep on the couch,” he says over his shoulder.

“No, you won’t,” I insist “This is ridiculous. Just take the bed.”

He finally stops, turning to face me with so much intensity in his eyes that it sends a shiver down my spine.

“Emily,” he says “Enough. Why do you have to be so stubborn?”

“Why do you have to be so persistent? I’m fine”

“No, you’re not. You’re still my wife and it’s my responsibility to make sure you’re okay”

His words catch me off guard. Oh Carlos. I’ll do anything to still remain your wife.

My breath catches as he steps closer. The air between us is filled with tension, and for a moment, neither of us moves.

“You’re impossible,” I murmur

“And you’re stubborn,” he counters.

Before I can respond, he pushes me gently onto the bed and falls on top of me. I gasp. My heart races as he hovers over me, his face inches from mine.

“Carlos, what are you—”

“Making sure you rest,” he whispers.

We stare at each other in silence. We’re so close that I can feel his breath on my face. His face is so close that I can see the small stubble on his jaw, the sparkle in his brown eyes, the way his luscious pink lips part slightly. My heart aches as I take in the man I’ve loved for so long, the man who is slipping away from me.

I try to calm myself, but the raw intensity of his gaze makes it impossible. My voice is barely a whisper when I say, “I can’t do this.”

His brow furrows, and for a moment, I think he’s going to say something. But then he clears his throat and straightens. He rolls over from me and moves to lie down on the other side of the bed.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he says simply.

He leaves a wide space between us, his back turned. I lie there, staring at the ceiling. My chest is tight with so many emotions.

Minutes pass and the silence is still heavy. I start to drift off. Due to all the emotions inside me, I can’t help but feel exhausted. My head feels like it’s going to explode any minute.

“What was it you wanted to tell me earlier?” he asks.

I freeze. I think back to the moment at dinner. I think about the pregnancy and the family I imagined us having. My throat feels tight as I search for an answer.

“It was nothing,” I whisper finally.