Chapter 139
RYAN
“I’m pregnant.”
The words came out of Miranda’s mouth like she was announcing a business deal rather than something that could potentially flip my entire life upside down.
She dropped a stack of papers onto my desk at the same time, the sound sharp enough to cut through the quiet of my office.
For a moment, I didn’t respond. I looked at her first, then the papers, then back at her again, trying to figure out if there was a hidden camera somewhere or if my brain had simply stopped functioning.
A short laugh slipped out before I could stop it.
“What?”
“You heard me.”
I leaned forward slightly and picked up the documents. My eyes moved over them—medical language, test results, dates stamped in clean black ink—but none of it registered properly because my attention kept snapping back to the fact that she was standing there with a straight face, claiming she was pregnant like it was the most normal thing in the world.
I let the papers fall slightly in my hand and looked at her again.
She wasn’t blinking.
That alone made me laugh again, sharper this time.
Miranda’s expression tightened instantly.
“You think this is funny?”
“No,” I said, shaking my head as I set the papers back down. “I think it’s insane.”
“Ryan—”
“Get out.”
The words came out flat.
Her brows shot up immediately. “What?”
“You heard me. Get out of my office.”
I leaned back in my chair and exhaled slowly, dragging a hand over my face. “Miranda, I’ve had a terrible week already. I don’t know what this is, but I don’t have the patience for it.”
Instead of leaving, she stepped closer to the desk, her heels clicking against the floor.
“You should know you’re the only person I’ve been with.”
I looked at her for a second longer than necessary before letting out a tired laugh.
“Congratulations.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I.” I pushed the papers slightly away from me. “I don’t care if I’m the only person or one of twenty. I’m not taking responsibility for something I’m not even convinced is mine.”
That landed exactly how I intended it to. Her face changed immediately, color rising fast as her jaw tightened.
“How dare you speak to me like that.”
“How dare I?” I leaned forward slightly now, pointing at the papers. “You walked into my office claiming you’re pregnant five days after we supposedly slept together. Do you hear how that sounds?”
Her eyes flickered for the first time, just a split second, but enough.
“I don’t care about your theories.”
“It’s not a theory. It’s basic biology.”
“You don’t know everything.”
“No,” I said calmly, “but I know enough to recognize when something doesn’t add up.”
Her hands curled into fists at her sides.
“I came here because I thought you would do the right thing.”
“You came here because your first attempt didn’t work.”
Her head tilted slightly. “What does that even mean?”
“It means threatening me didn’t work. Dragging my mother into this didn’t work. So now we’ve moved on to this.”
“That’s not what this is.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
There was a pause after that. Not long, but enough for the air between us to tighten. She didn’t look away this time, but she didn’t move either.
I leaned back again.
“Then explain the timing.”
“I don’t owe you anything.”
A short laugh left me again, but there was no humor in it anymore.
“Exactly.”
That silence stretched longer this time. Miranda’s breathing stayed steady, controlled, like she was holding herself together by force rather than calm. Then, suddenly, she exhaled and straightened her jacket as if resetting herself.
“Fine.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Fine?”
“Yes. You don’t believe me today, and that’s okay.”
Something about the way she said it made the room feel colder.
She reached for her handbag, slinging it over her shoulder with slow precision before looking directly at me again.
“I’ll give you the rest of the day to think about how you want to proceed.”
I frowned slightly. “Proceed with what?”
“With our future.”
I actually laughed this time, short and disbelieving.
“Our future?”
“Yes.”
She said it like it was already decided, like I was just being informed of something that had been scheduled without my permission.
“Because starting tomorrow, I’m moving in.”
I rubbed both hands down my face slowly, then leaned back and stared at the ceiling for a second, trying to understand how the conversation had even reached this point.
“Miranda.”
She waited.
“Just get out of my office.”
For the first time, something like amusement touched her expression. Not warmth—something sharper.
“Think about it.”
“I won’t.”
“You should.”
“I said I won’t.”
She didn’t respond to that. Instead, she turned toward the door with slow confidence, as if she was done here regardless of my reaction.
But before she could open it, the handle moved from the other side.
The door stopped halfway, and she stumbled back slightly, catching herself quickly as my father stepped into the office.
He paused immediately.
His eyes moved from Miranda to me, then back to her again, taking in everything in one glance.
There was a pause.
Then his brows pulled together.
“Am I interrupting something?”
“Not anymore,” Miranda said flatly.
Without waiting for anything else, she brushed past him and walked out. Her shoulder hit his slightly as she passed, enough to make him turn his head in surprise.
“Excuse me?”
She didn’t respond.
A moment later, she was gone.
The door clicked shut behind her.
My father stood there for a second longer before slowly turning back to me.
“What was wrong with your secretary?”
I didn’t answer immediately. I wasn’t even sure where to begin, and apparently that was enough for him to notice something was off.
He walked closer to the desk.
“Ryan, what’s going on?”
His eyes dropped to the papers on my desk. Before I could stop him, he picked them up and started reading.
The shift in his expression was immediate. Confusion first, then focus, then something heavier.
“Pregnant?”
I closed my eyes briefly.
“Yeah.”
He lowered the papers slightly and looked at me more directly now.
“She says she’s pregnant?”
“That’s the current situation.”
He sat down across from me slowly, still holding the documents like they had changed weight.
“Did she tell you who the father is?”
The question hung there longer than it should have.
I leaned back slightly, staring at the edge of my desk before letting out a quiet, humorless laugh.
My father watched me carefully now.
“Ryan.”
I dragged a hand over my forehead.
“I fucked up.”
That got his attention fully.
“What did you do?”
I looked at the papers again before finally meeting his eyes.
“I slept with Miranda five days ago.”
The silence that followed was immediate.
His entire expression changed at once.
“What?”
“I was drunk as hell.”
“Ryan—”
“And the worst part is,” I added, exhaling slowly, “I’m not even completely sure it happened.”
My father stared at me without blinking.
I stared right back.
Neither of us moved for several seconds.
Then, slowly, he leaned back in his chair, still holding the papers loosely in one hand as he processed everything.
“Wow.”
A dry laugh escaped me as I shook my head slightly.
“Wow indeed.”