The Wife He Chose Too Late

Claire's POV

The receptionist smiled as she handed me a small envelope. "Don't lose that," she said. "Most mothers end up keeping the first ultrasound forever."

I looked down at the photograph tucked inside the envelope and felt something tighten in my chest.

Forever.

It was such a simple word, such an ordinary word and yet it seemed to belong to a world I had never allowed myself to imagine. "Thank you," I said quietly.

The receptionist's smile softened, and she wished me luck before turning her attention to the next patient.

A few moments later, I stepped out of the clinic and into the heart of Manhattan.

The city moved around me with its usual relentless energy. Yellow taxis crawled through traffic. Businessmen hurried along the sidewalks with coffee cups in hand and somewhere nearby, a siren wailed before disappearing into the distance.

Everything looked exactly the same as it had an hour ago and yet nothing felt the same.

I slipped a hand inside my purse and touched the envelope again.

Pregnant.

The word still felt unreal. A few days ago, I had stood alone in the bathroom staring at a pregnancy test and wondering if I was imagining things. This morning, I walked into the doctor's office convinced that there had been some mistake only to find out there was no mistake.

I was carrying a baby, my baby and Damien's baby. The thought sent a rush of warmth through me but then came the fear because excitement was easy. The difficult part was what came next.

I stopped walking and looked across the street at the mirrored glass of an office building. My reflection stared back at me.

To everyone else, I looked exactly the same but nobody would ever guess that my entire future had changed.

My future.

The words lingered in my mind. For four years, I had carefully avoided thinking about the future the contract had made that easy. There has always been an expiration date attached to my marriage.

Four years.

That was what Damien had offered. Four years as his wife, four years of appearances and four years of pretending then we would part ways. It was simple, clean and professional, at least, that had been the plan. The problem was that somewhere between the wedding and the fourth anniversary, I had made the mistake of falling in love with my husband.

It was a terrible mistake, a hopeless mistake and a mistake I had never regretted.

I laughed softly at myself. The woman standing outside a fertility clinic smiling at traffic probably looked slightly insane.

My phone buzzed in my purse and the screen lit up with a calendar notification and the sight of the date made my smile falter.

Fourteen days.

That was how long remained before the contract expired, fourteen days before I stopped being Claire Laurent and fourteen days before Damien and I sat down with lawyers and signed papers that would officially end our marriage.

For months, that number had felt like a countdown to heartbreak but today, for the first time, it felt like something else, maybe the future wasn't as fixed as I had always believed. Maybe a baby changed things. Maybe—I stopped myself before the thought could go any further.

Hope was dangerous and hope was how people ended up disappointed but still, as I climbed into a taxi and gave the driver the address of Laurent Group headquarters, I couldn't stop myself from smiling.

Tonight I would tell Damien.

Laurent Group occupied forty floors of glass and steel in the center of Manhattan's financial district. The building had become as familiar to me as my own home after all, I had spent years working there before becoming Damien's wife and if I was being honest, I still spent enough time there to qualify as an employee.

The elevator doors opened onto the executive floor and the first thing I noticed was the silence and the second thing I noticed was Emma rushing toward me.

Relief flooded her face so quickly that I immediately knew something was wrong. "Thank God."

I frowned. "That's usually not how people greet me."

"Your husband is in one of his moods."

I laughed. "That narrows it down absolutely not at all."

Emma pointed toward the conference rooms. "The board meeting."

My stomach dropped. "The quarterly board meeting?"

She nodded. "Apparently."

The sinking feeling in my stomach deepened. Three weeks ago, I had rescheduled that meeting because Damien had a conference in Chicago and more importantly, Damien had personally approved the change twice.

I knew because I had saved both emails, experience had taught me that keeping records where Damien Laurent was concerned was a survival skill. "How bad?" I asked.

Emma grimaced. "Let's just say the board isn't thrilled."

I sighed. "I will handle it."

"You always do."

The words were meant as a joke and for some reason, they stayed with me.

You always do.

The truth was that I did, over the years, managing Damien had become almost second nature. I knew which meetings he hated, which clients irritated him and which coffee he drank when he was stressed. I knew the signs that he hadn't slept enough and I knew exactly how he looked when he was pretending not to be worried.

The realization should have made me sad but instead, it made me smile because despite everything, despite the contract and the expiration date and the certainty that this arrangement would eventually end, there had been something real between us, at least for me.

I pushed open the conference room door and every head turned the board members looked annoyed and Damien looked relieved.

The sight caught me completely off guard and for a fraction of a second, something softened in his expression before it disappeared.

"Claire," he said.

I crossed my arms. "Damien."

One of the directors groaned dramatically. "Thank God you are here."

Another pointed toward Damien. "Please explain to your husband that this meeting was moved."

I looked at Damien just as he looked back at me. "I don't remember approving any changes."

The room immediately fell silent and I raised an eyebrow. "You approved the changes on March third."

His expression remained unchanged. "No, I didn’t."

"Yes, you did."

"No, I didn’t." He continues to argue like a two year old.

I opened my email and several board members began laughing. One actually pulled out his phone as though preparing to record the conversation.

"Claire," Damien warned.

I found the email and handed him my phone. "Read it."

His eyes moved across the screen as silence filled the room, the kind of silence that only occurred when Damien discovered he was wrong.

One of the directors leaned forward. "Well?"

Damien handed the phone back to me. "You informed me."

"Three times."

More laughter erupted around the room.

"You approved it twice."

His jaw tightened. "Apparently I did."

That single word sent the room into chaos as several people started to laugh openly. One director looked moments away from tears. I tried not to smile but I failed completely and when I looked up again, I caught Damien watching me.

The irritation was gone and in its place was something warmer, something familiar and for a brief moment, it felt less like a board meeting and more like every private conversation we had shared over the last four years but then the moment passed as quickly as it came.

The meeting finally dissolved and people gathered their papers and filed out. Soon only Damien and I remained; he loosened his tie and sat down heavily in his chair. "I blame you for this."

I stared at him. "Excuse me?"

"You should have reminded me."

A laugh escaped before I could stop it. "Damien, I emailed you three times."

"You know I don't read half my emails."

"That sounds like a personal problem." 

The corner of his mouth twitched and the sight made my heart skip. Four years later, it still had that effect on me. "I suppose you are enjoying this."

"A little."

"A little?"

I smiled. "Alright, quite a lot, actually."

He shook his head and then he stood and the room suddenly felt smaller. That happened whenever Damien was close and I hated that it happened. I hated that after four years I still noticed things like the way his sleeves were rolled up or the way his voice deepened when he was tired and most of all, I hated that I loved him because loving him changed absolutely nothing.

The contract was still ending and the clock was still ticking and in fourteen days, I would lose him.

"We should head home," Damien said.

Home.

The word settled somewhere deep inside me and for the first time all day, I allowed myself to imagine something impossible. Maybe tonight, when I told him about the baby, home would stop being temporary and maybe it could become forever.

That evening, I stood alone in the penthouse kitchen staring at a tiny pair of white baby shoes I had bought them on impulse during lunch.

The purchase had been ridiculous and completely unnecessary but yet I couldn't stop smiling at them.

Tonight I would tell him tonight. The front door opened and my pulse immediately quickened. Damien stepped inside and stopped as his gaze swept over the dining table. The candles, the food and then finally me.

Suspicion appeared immediately. "What happened?"

I laughed. "Why do you assume something happened?"

"You cooked."

"That's offensive."

"It's unusual."

I opened my mouth to respond but then stopped because this was it. This was the moment I reached for the drawer containing the baby shoes my fingers closed around them.

One sentence that was all it would take.

Damien, we are having a baby.

I looked up feeling ready but also terrified and hopeful but then Damien spoke first. "There's something we need to discuss."

Something in his voice made my stomach drop and slowly, I withdrew my hand from the drawer. He pulled out a chair and waited for me to sit before taking the seat opposite mine and for a few seconds, neither of us spoke.

The silence stretched when finally Damien folded his hands together and looked directly at me. "We will need to discuss the divorce arrangements this week."