Semua Bab The 18 Billion Wife He Abandoned : Bab 31 - Bab 40

Emma Mitchell-Volkov stared at the three pregnancy tests lined up on the bathroom counter, each displaying the same unmistakable result. Positive. Positive. Positive.Her hand trembled as she touched her still-flat stomach. After months of trying, after doctors warning about her "challenging fertility outlook," after beginning to research surrogacy options—here was this miracle, displayed in three plastic sticks."Emma?" Alek's voice echoed from downstairs. "We'll be late for the charity dinner."She gathered the tests in her hands, heart pounding against her ribs. Eight months of marriage had brought more happiness than she'd ever imagined possible. This would make it complete."Coming!" she called, tucking the tests into her evening bag.Downstairs, Alek waited by the door of their renovated Beacon Hill townhouse, looking devastating in his tuxedo. Even after all this time, the sight of him made her breath catch—tall, powerfully built, with eyes that softened only for her."You look

"You've got that look again," Emma observed, glancing up from her laptop.Alek, caught hovering in the doorway of her home office, straightened. "What look?""The 'Is-Emma-pushing-herself-too-hard' look." She closed her computer. "I'm just answering emails, not running a marathon."Two weeks had passed since Franklin's cardiac episode. The doctors had adjusted his medications, ordered more rest, but otherwise allowed him to return home. Emma's physical recovery progressed steadily, her follow-up appointments showing proper healing.Emotionally, however, the landscape remained frozen between her and Alek."The doctor said to ease back into work," he reminded her."Answering emails is 'easing,'" Emma countered. "The team needs guidance on the new community initiative."Alek nodded, though tension remained in his jaw. "I've got a strategy meeting. Need anything before I go?""I'm fine." The words had become her mantra, repeated so often they'd lost all meaning.After Alek left, Emma reop

"You can't be serious," Alek followed Emma around their bedroom as she packed an overnight bag. "Moving into your grandfather's mansion? For how long?""As long as he needs me," Emma replied, folding a sweater. "You saw him yesterday, Alek. He can barely get up the stairs."Three weeks after Franklin's cardiac episode, his health had deteriorated further. Though he insisted he was fine, his color was poor, his energy non-existent."That's why he has round-the-clock nurses," Alek argued. "And Walter. He doesn't need you living there."Emma zipped her bag. "He needs family. Someone who loves him, not just employees who care for him.""And what about us?" Alek gestured between them. "We've barely begun addressing our issues, and now you're moving out?""I'm not moving out," Emma corrected, exasperated. "I'm temporarily staying with my grandfather while he recovers.""Same difference." Alek raked a hand through his hair. "You're avoiding difficult conversations by diving into caregiving."

"Your grandfather is the most infuriating patient I've ever encountered," Natasha declared, dropping into a chair beside Emma. "And I once treated a man who insisted his appendicitis was caused by aliens."Emma smiled, adjusting the name tag on her blazer. The atrium of Boston Children's Hospital hummed with activity as volunteers set up for the Boston Blades' annual charity carnival. Players would arrive soon to sign autographs, take photos, and play games with young patients—a tradition Emma had expanded significantly since taking ownership."Franklin doesn't like being told what to do," Emma agreed, checking items off her clipboard. "Especially by someone he sees as a child.""I'm twenty-eight!""To him, anyone under fifty is practically a toddler." Emma glanced at her watch. "Speaking of Franklin, should you be here? I thought you were reviewing his medication schedule today.""Walter's watching him," Natasha waved dismissively. "And I needed a break from his stubbornness. Besides

Three days of silence felt like an eternity. Emma had perfected the art of avoidance—leaving Franklin's mansion before Alek's scheduled visits, screening his calls, responding to texts with clinical one-word answers."This is ridiculous," Natasha declared, dropping a newspaper on the breakfast table. The gossip section featured the same restaurant photos, now with expanded speculation about the Mitchell-Volkov marriage. "You need to talk to him.""I'm busy," Emma replied, not looking up from her laptop where she reviewed team marketing proposals."You're hiding," Natasha countered. "And my brother is miserable. He's called me six times asking what you're saying about him.""What am I supposed to say?" Emma finally met her sister-in-law's gaze. "That I found out about his secret dinner with his ex-fiancée from Jack Reynolds? That those photos look exactly like what Jack implied—history repeating itself?"Natasha pulled out a chair, sitting across from Emma. "Do you honestly believe Ale