CHAPTER 52 - This baby is lucky to have you.

I smugly went to my room, as I opened my room, the silence in my room was comforting yet oppressive as I lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling. The events of the day lingered in my mind, especially Mr. Horton’s heartfelt words and Jayden’s cold dismissal right after. My chest ached, but exhaustion weighed me down more heavily. Without bothering to change out of the lavender maternity gown, I closed my eyes and allowed sleep to claim me.

When I woke up, it was dark outside. The soft glow of the bedside lamp illuminated the room as I sat up, stretching my arms. My stomach growled, reminding me I hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast. I shuffled out of the room and descended the grand staircase, my bare feet silent against the polished wood floors.

The kitchen was quiet, the staff presumably gone for the evening. I opened the fridge and grabbed a lemon, the sharp tang of the citrus somehow comforting as I cut it into wedges and popped one into my mouth. The sourness made my face scrunch slightly, but it was oddly satisfying.

As I leaned against the counter, savoring another wedge, I noticed Jayden standing by the doorway, his gaze fixed on me. He didn’t say anything, but his stare was unsettling, as though he were trying to unravel some deep mystery. I ignored him, pretending not to notice as I continued eating.

The tension in the air was palpable. My mind raced with thoughts. Was he hiding something? Was he starting to piece things together? I clenched my jaw and pushed the thoughts aside. I knew the truth, he was the father of my unborn child. That much, I was certain of.

He cleared his throat, but I didn’t look at him. Instead, I finished the lemon wedge and walked out of the kitchen, leaving him standing there. Whatever he wanted to say, I wasn’t interested in hearing it.

The weeks that followed were monotonous yet strangely peaceful. I avoided Jayden as much as possible, spending most of my time in the sanctuary of my room. My old journals and a stack of fresh notebooks became my companions as I poured my thoughts onto paper. Writing became my solace, a way to escape the chaos of my reality. I began typing most of my novels and before I realized it I had two novels down.

When I wasn’t writing, I found myself drawn to the garden. The gazebo at the far end of the estate became my retreat, a place where I could lose myself in painting. I’d always loved art, and now, with the looming arrival of my baby, it felt like the perfect outlet for my emotions. My strokes were wild and free, the canvases capturing the turbulence within me.

Grace was my constant companion through it all. She accompanied me on shopping trips, helping me pick out baby clothes, a crib, and countless other items for the nursery. Her excitement was infectious, even when mine was dulled by the weight of everything else.

“Daphne, this one’s adorable!” Grace exclaimed during one of our trips to a boutique, holding up a tiny onesie with pastel clouds.

I managed a smile, running my hand over my growing belly. “It is,” I admitted, adding it to the growing pile of items we’d already picked out.

Back at the mansion, Grace and I spent hours setting up the nursery. The room we chose had large windows that let in plenty of sunlight, and we decorated it in soft shades of cream and sage green. It was the only part of the house that felt warm and welcoming.

One afternoon, during a routine hospital visit, the doctor’s words sent a chill through me.

“Your baby’s growth is slightly below average,” she said gently, showing me the ultrasound results. “It’s nothing to be alarmed about, but there’s a possibility of some minor health issues at birth. We’ll keep monitoring, but try to rest as much as you can and avoid stress.”

I nodded numbly, my hands instinctively moving to my belly. My heart ached at the thought of my child suffering, even in the smallest way. I needed to tell someone—him.

That evening, I waited for Jayden to come home. When he finally arrived, his tie loosened and his expression as cold as ever, I stood in the hallway, blocking his path.

“We need to talk,” I said, my voice firm despite the lump in my throat.

His gaze flickered to me briefly before he shrugged. “About what?”

“The baby,” I said, watching for any sign of emotion on his face. “I had a doctor’s appointment today.”

He sighed, brushing past me. “You’ve been doing fine without talking to me for weeks. Why not keep it that way?”

His words stung, but I refused to let him see it. “Jayden, this is important—”

“Goodnight, Daphne,” he said, cutting me off as he climbed the stairs.

I stared after him, my hands balling into fists. It was pointless, trying to reach him. We were nothing more than strangers living under the same roof, tied together by a web of lies. He left early for work and returned late, avoiding me as much as I avoided him. We were like flatmates, existing in the same space but never truly connecting.

Grace, on the other hand, was a godsend. She stayed by my side through everything, her cheerful presence a balm to my wounded soul. She brought me snacks when I stayed up late writing, helped me mix colors for my paintings, and even joined me on walks around the estate.

“You’re going to be an amazing mom,” she said one evening as we sat in the gazebo, sipping lemonade.

I smiled weakly, my hand resting on my bump. “I hope so.”

“You will be,” she insisted. “This baby is lucky to have you.”

Her words brought a lump to my throat, but I swallowed it down, determined not to cry.

One sunny afternoon, I decided to relax in the garden. The hammock swayed gently under the shade of the trees, and I lay there with a book in hand, letting the warm breeze soothe my tired mind. The nursery was almost ready, my writing was coming along, and for the first time in weeks, I felt a flicker of peace.

That peace was shattered when Julie stormed into the garden. I barely had time to look up before she reached the hammock and gave it a violent shove.

“Julie, what the…” I cried out as I tumbled to the ground, my hands instinctively protecting my belly.

She stood over me, her eyes blazing with anger. “You think you can just waltz into Jayden’s life and take everything that’s mine?” she spat.

I tried to stand to my feet but she placed her foot on my hand, pinning it to the grass, causing me to scream. I felt wet under and then it hit me, my water must have broken, or was I bleeding.

“Help!" I screamed and she ran away, just as fast as she came.