The Billionaire's Lost Affair

CLEMENTINE

Even with the dimmed lights, Sancho’s face was glowing. When we’re alone, just next to each other, the world feels a little more quiet. Like he is not him, and I am not who I am. We’re simply two people who enjoy each other’s company.

My hand traces the bridge of his nose. Almost, but not touching. My eyes followed until they stopped on his lips… his perfect lips. I froze when he made the slightest move, making his lips lightly kiss my hand. The simple gesture gave me goosebumps.

"I like it when you don’t notice me looking at you while you look at me."

I didn't make another comment and he expected no reply. Sancho knows me well. What I can offer and what I cannot give. Intimacy is one thing, love is another. So, instead of words, I closed the little distance between us and lightly kissed his lips like how he kissed my hand. His hand wrapped around me in an embrace, slowly tracing small circles on my back.

I get drunk with his kisses. All my troubles fade away when I see his face at the end of the day. I like his company.

And… I think I like him.

I had to admit that. I have been thinking about him a lot, but I don’t want to spend more time wondering whether I like him when his mere touch intoxicates me.

I had to admit it so I can stop myself from needing him more, because I can’t. This wasn’t meant to last forever. I don’t want it to be. I am staying longer than I should have. I made a rule to have no sleepovers and I didn’t even notice the countless times we woke up by each other’s side, sharing breakfast together. I am breaking my rules one by one. It’s only a matter of time before I completely lose myself.

I broke our kiss and reached for the robe.

"I shouldn’t stay here."

"You always say that."

"I mean it this time." Without looking back at him, I walked towards the bathroom. "I’ll take a quick shower. Let’s have a talk after."

I didn’t realize I had memorized almost every corner of his room. I know where all his things are and without noticing, I noticed my things slowly filling a small portion of it: a few of my clothes, my hairbrush, my perfume, my hair tie, and even some of my makeup. He bought most of it. I couldn’t help but acknowledge his cleverness for buying small things one by one. Sancho knew me too well and he knew I would never agree to making space in his room when this arrangement was only meant to be temporary.

I took my time inside the shower. My heart beat fast as I recalled the line I have been thinking about again and again.

"Let’s end this, Sancho."

Only four fucking words and I can’t even think straight just thinking about it.

"Let’s end this," I whispered, barely hearing my own voice while the water continued to pour.

He’d agree to this, right? He has to. We’re not in a relationship and we never made promises to each other. We’d be doing each other a favor. I get to focus on my career and he can do the same, and we can go back to our own worlds.

I changed my clothes before going out of the bathroom. I was surprised to see him seated on the corner of his bed, already dressed, with a serious expression on his face.

What is he thinking? Why does he look… different? Did he know what I was going to say?

"You want to talk, right?" Gone was his soft expression. His eyes were cold and void of any emotions. Sancho clasped his hands together. "Then, let’s talk."

"I think you already know what I’d say."

"I have an idea, but I want to hear it from your own lips." He was dangerously calm and composed, which is why I know he’s angry.

The four lines kept playing in my head but I couldn’t say them immediately. With one deep breath, I wished the anxiousness away. I parted my lips and slowly said the words like it was from a script I have memorized.

"Let’s end this, Sancho."

He didn’t say a word. Actually, he didn’t make a single move. I can almost hear him thinking, but I can’t figure out what’s running in that pretty head of his. I stood in uncomfortable silence, accepting that this is the end of us.

Until he nodded. He reached for something from his back. My lips parted when I saw the familiar pregnancy test kit with clearly two lines.

"Does this have anything to do with your decision?"

"Where..." I paused when I saw my bag on the floor. I was stupid enough to leave it by the door unzipped. It must have fallen when we entered the room. Our hands were all over each other when we entered and it slipped my mind. "That’s not mine."

"Give me some credit, Clementine. Come on." He faked a laugh. "You were going to escape and leave me clueless."

"We’re not together, Sancho. You don’t even know if you’re the only man I’m sleeping with. Pretend this conversation never happened." My eyes began to water with the scenarios playing in my head. I didn’t want him to know and give him a glint of hope. "You know what, pretend this never happened."

"That’s my child."

"It’s not yours."

"I wasn’t asking a question. I won’t even ask for a test. That’s how confident I am. I know you don’t want to acknowledge it. We never did, but I know you love me, Clementine. It has only been me."

I want to answer him with tantamount confidence. Tell him straight in the eyes and say it out loud that I don’t. It’s not only him, but words fail me. I don’t want to and I shouldn’t, but I do. I love Sancho.

"It will never work, Sancho. From the very start, we both knew that it’s never going to work."

"We can make it work, Clem. We’ll find a way to make it work."

"I..." My throat felt dry. "I can’t. All of this."

"But the baby."

"Sancho, there was never going to be a baby."

He stepped back like I just said the most terrible thing. With a horrified look and shaky hands, he glanced at my belly. Sancho’s heart was breaking and I feel dreadful that I am the one who made him feel that way. He wasn’t supposed to know in the first place. I had this beautiful and meaningful ending for us in my head but none of this is going according to plan.

"Clem, please. Think about this. We can..."

"No, we can’t. What if your family knows? What if the people know? You’re the former president’s grandson, for goodness’ sake, Sancho. You’re a fucking billionaire. You’re..." I stopped. I knew I was selfish but admitting it out loud would make me more horrible than the terrible person that I am. "You’d still be you while I’ll lose every piece of who I am."

He knows it’s true. He may have momentarily forgotten who he is but it’ll never work. His family will never approve of me and I know that because I’ve heard him go to countless of blind dates his grandmother arranged to find his suitable wife. Someone from a powerful and decent family, rich, successful, and someone he can start a family with. I don’t even tick a single box. That’s how doomed we are.

“The kid.” He whispered. “Let me have our baby.”

I fight the urge to slap him. “Did you even hear a single word I said?”

Gone was the hurt, betrayal, and sadness in his eyes. He is determined.

“Anything, Clementine. I’ll give you anything you want. I’ll raise the child alone and you can be the actress that you’ve always wanted to be.” He offered. “That way, we’ll get both what we want.”