Page 507 of The Morally Grey Billionaires Boxset

Edward

I hear her gasp, then the muffled thump of a body hitting the floor before the sound of crying reaches me.

"Belle!" I knock on the door. "Let me in."

She doesn’t answer, just continues crying.

I try the handle, but it doesn’t open. "Belle!" I rap on the door again. "Let me in, please."

The weeping seems to escalate, my heartbeat keeping pace.

Fuck… Fuck, fuck, fuck. It’s my fault she doesn’t trust me enough to be with her now when she took the test. And it’s my fault she’s not letting me in right now so I can comfort her.

It’s my fault I’m listening to my sweet wife cry and I'm not able to do anything about it.

"Belle, please—" I swallow. "Please, baby, it’s killing me to stand out here and listen to you weep. I’ll do anything, anything to stop it; anything, Belle, please."

There’s no response. The sound of her crying fades and there’s silence.

Dread is an anchor in my stomach, a twist in my guts, a burning sensation in my heart.

I push my palm into the door and place my forehead against it.

If this is how it feels to be helpless and not be able to do anything for the one person who is more important to you than anything in the world, I don’t want to feel this again.

I sink to my knees. Then, for only the second time since I left the priesthood, I beseech him, Please, God, please help me.

Give me one chance to set things right with her.

I beg You, if You’re there and if You're hearing me, allow me near her. Please, I—

The door swings open. She stands in front of me. I look up into her features. Her nose is red, her eyes swollen.

"What is it, Belle?" I rise to my feet.

She shakes her head.

"Tell me, sweetheart." I move forward, and she takes a step back.

That anchor in my stomach drops to my feet. It feels like I’m drowning. I need to be strong. For her. "Belle, let me help you."

She locks her arms around her waist. "Okay."

"Okay?"

She nods.

"What do you want from me? Tell me, baby, please. I’ll do anything. Anything to make things up to you. Anything to make you feel better."

"Anything?" She tilts her head. There’s a feverish look in her eyes now. "Anything?" she asks in a shrill voice.

"Anything." I nod. "Whatever you want."

"I want you to fuck me."

"What?" I rear back.

"I want you to turn me over that countertop right now and fuck me. Can you do that?"

"Belle, no." I reach for her again, but she slaps me away.

"I’m not pregnant," she cries.

"You’re not?"

Her features crumple, “I want so much to be a mother.”

I close the distance to her, but she steps out of reach.

"I can’t believe, despite your replacing my contraceptive pills, I didn’t get pregnant." She hunches her shoulders. “What’s wrong with me? How could I not have conceived? Why?” She begins to weep in earnest. This time, when I pull her to me she doesn’t resist.

“I really wanted this child.” Her voice breaks.

“I’m so sorry, baby.” I kiss the top of her head, but she only weeps harder.

And when she collapses against me, I pick her up, carry her out into the living room and sit on the couch with her in my lap.

I rock her until she falls asleep, then I carry her to bed.

I call the nursery at the office and arrange for Adela to cover for her absence. Then, I message Summer.

When she wakes up, I survey her features. "How are you feeling?"

"Not great," she groans and closes her eyes. "I have a headache."

"This will help." I hold out two Ibuprofen capsules. She takes them, along with the glass of water I offer her. Once she’s swallowed the pills and chugged down most of the water, I place it on the nightstand.

She lays back against the pillows and takes in my features. "I’m sorry," she croaks.

"For what?"

“For my breakdown.” Her lower lip quivers.

“You never have to apologize for sharing your sorrows with me.

I want to be the one you turn to when things don't go the way you hoped they would.

I want to be the one to help carry your burdens.

I want to share your pain. Please, don't ever hide from me. To know you were suffering, and yet be unable to reach you... I felt like my heart was being torn out of my body.” I catch her hand, then bring it to my mouth and kiss her fingers.

“Besides, I'm as much to blame, Belle. I couldn’t get you pregnant; I failed you.”

She shakes her head. “Neither of us is to blame. It’s not like everyone gets pregnant right away. Some women try for years and—” Her chin trembles.

“Shh, don’t think about that. We'll tackle tomorrow together. For now, you need to rest and recover.” I press my forehead to hers. “Close your eyes.”

I let her sleep for a few more hours, not able to take my eyes off of her.

My phone keeps pinging with messages from the office, but I ignore them.

Funny how I thought the job and confirming my role as the CEO of the Davenport Group was a priority, when really, none of that matters.

Life isn’t about sitting at a desk, perusing spreadsheets, and signing mergers or steering acquisitions.

Life is a plus-size blonde with a heart so generous she could reform the grumpiest of souls.

A woman whose smile lights up my soul. A woman whose gaze is like looking into the eyes of the divine.

I swallow. A goddess who’s shown me the error of my ways.

Who’s helped me make peace with Him. Something I didn’t think would ever happen in my life.

She swept into my life and turned it upside down.

She changed my mindset, turned my life inside out.

She’s shown me what it's like to be vulnerable. To share the parts of me I never have with anyone else. She…completes me, in a way I hadn’t thought was possible.

She makes me a better man. Someone who’s rejoined the land of the living.

Someone who can feel the range of emotions in their messiness and their predicaments.

Someone who feels the highs and lows of being human.

Of being here, in the now, and experiencing what it is to be alive.

Someone who's able to see a future with her. And with our child.

When she told me she wasn’t pregnant, a flash of disappointment gripped me. It surprised me because I never thought I’d have children. Not until she’d told me how much she wanted them.

For so long, the concept of a family was that of my parish. The people I served. Then, for a brief while, it was the hockey team when I had been their general manager. I wanted the best for all of them.

I function best when I'm looking out for others. I’ve never thought about what that means for me.

Until she came along and began caring for me.

She's the only one who looks at me like I'm her world.

With her understanding and her love, she's changed who I am, until I no longer recognize myself.

And all I want is for her to be happy. For her to get everything she wants.

I take her hand in mine, then go down on my knees and place my forehead against our joined fingers.