Too Late for Love, Mr. CEO

I sat quietly in front of the doctor as she explained my condition for what felt like the third time.

My fingers tightened around the edge of my dress while I listened.

She told me my uterine lining was naturally thin and that the baby was still unstable. Her voice was calm, but every word landed heavily in my chest.

I had to be careful. Very careful.

No stress. No heavy movement. No mistakes.

She added that women with my condition sometimes lost their babies, and some of them found it difficult to get pregnant again.

My heartbeat quickened, fear creeping into every corner of my mind.

But I forced myself to stay calm.

I nodded again and again as she wrote my prescription, afraid that if I showed even a little panic, everything would fall apart.

When she handed me the paper, I took it with both hands.

“Get the medicine immediately,” she reminded me.

“I will,” I said softly.

For three years of marriage, I had been waiting for this moment.

A child.

Something that truly belonged to me and Alexander.

As I walked out of the hospital, I moved slowly, carefully, as if even the air around me could harm the life growing inside me.

After collecting my medicine, I got into the car.

“Madam,” James Carter, our driver, greeted politely as he started the engine.

He glanced at me through the rearview mirror. “Sir’s flight lands at three. Should we head to the airport now?”

My lips curved into a small smile.

“Yes.”

I did not hesitate.

Alexander had been away on business for almost a month. I missed him more than I wanted to admit.

On the way, I took out the pregnancy report again.

I read every word slowly, my hand instinctively resting on my stomach.

Inside me was our child.

Mine and Alexander’s baby.

In eight months, I would give birth to him.

The thought filled my chest with warmth, and for a moment, all my fear disappeared.

I could not wait to tell him.

We arrived at the airport early.

James parked the car and turned to me. “Would you like to call him, Madam?”

I nodded and dialed Alexander’s number.

The call did not go through.

A cold automated voice told me the line was unavailable.

I frowned slightly but forced myself to stay calm.

“Maybe the flight is delayed,” I said quietly.

So we waited.

Minutes turned into an hour.

Then another.

I kept looking toward the exit, expecting to see him walking toward me, tall and composed like always.

But he never appeared.

I called again.

And again.

Still nothing.

Two hours later, I tried once more.

This time, the call connected.

“Hello?”

His voice.

My heart instantly lifted.

“Alexander, where are you? I am at the airport waiting for you—”

“Hello?” a woman’s voice suddenly interrupted.

I froze.

“Alexander is in the restroom,” she said casually. “He will call you later.”

Before I could say anything, the call ended.

I stared at my phone, my mind blank.

A woman?

Alexander never brought female assistants on business trips.

I told myself not to overthink it.

Still, something did not feel right.

Fifteen minutes later, I called again.

This time, he answered.

His voice was calm. Distant.

“I’m still at the airport,” I said softly. “Where are you?”

There was a brief pause.

“I already left,” he replied.

My smile faded.

“Oh… I see.”

I tightened my grip on the phone.

“I have something important to tell you,” I added, trying to sound cheerful. “Should I wait for you at home?”

“I also have something to tell you,” he said.

My heart lifted again.

“I will ask the nanny to prepare your favorite meal—”

“No need,” he cut in.

“I have other plans. I will be back late.”

The warmth in my chest slowly faded.

“…Alright.”

Just before the call ended, I heard that same woman’s voice again, apologizing to him softly.

My heart sank.

But before I could ask anything, the line went dead.

That night, I sat alone at the dining table.

I forced myself to eat for the sake of the baby, even though every bite felt tasteless.

After dinner, I curled up on the sofa, hugging a pillow as I waited.

Ten o’clock passed.

Then eleven.

At some point, I fell asleep.

I felt someone lifting me.

A familiar scent surrounded me, mixed with alcohol.

“Alexander…” I murmured.

“It’s me,” he replied.

His voice was low, tired.

I heard the sound of running water before he returned to bed.

His hand slid around my waist.

My body tensed immediately.

“The baby…” I whispered softly.

He paused.

Then he withdrew his hand.

“Sleep,” he said.

And just like that, the moment ended.

The next morning, I woke up alone.

The space beside me was already cold.

Only the slightly wrinkled sheets proved that he had returned at all.

I felt a small pang of regret, but quickly pushed it away.

Today would be different.

It had to be.

After getting ready, I carefully chose his clothes.

A white suit.

A red striped tie.

Something bright. Something happy.

Just like the news I was about to share.

When I went downstairs, he was already there.

Sitting on the sofa, reading documents as if nothing had changed.

As if I had not waited for him all night.

We ate breakfast in silence.

My heart beat faster with every passing second.

“I need to talk to you,” I finally said.

“I have something to say as well,” he replied calmly.

I forced a smile.

“You go first.”

Something inside me felt uneasy, but I ignored it.

Alexander stood up and walked toward me.

Then he handed me a document.

“Let’s get a divorce.”

The words echoed in my mind.

For a moment, I thought I had heard him wrong.

“Divorce?”

My voice sounded distant, even to myself.

“Our marriage was forced from the beginning,” he said calmly. “It was never made public. Ending it now will be simple.”

Simple.

To him, it was simple.

But to me…

It was everything.

I had loved him for three years.

Since I entered the Hawthorne family at sixteen.

I gave him my youth.

My dreams.

My entire heart.

And yet, to him, it was nothing more than a mistake.

“Are you sure?” I asked quietly.

“Yes.”

No hesitation.

No emotion.

I swallowed hard.

“What about your grandparents?”

“I will explain it to them.”

I nodded slowly.

There was only one question left.

“…Is there someone else?”

Before I could finish, he spoke.

“Isabella is back.”

Everything shattered.

His first love had returned.

And just like that…

I became someone he could abandon without a second thought.

I lowered my gaze and took the divorce agreement with trembling hands.

“I will read it,” I said softly.

Even though inside…

My world was already falling apart.