Mr Reluctant Billionaire || BWWM

Fifty-eight

Our ride home is in peaceful silence as if we fear we will break the tranquillity achieved at the river. Throughout the journey, I can’t help thinking about my first sunrise. People talk about how surreal the experience is and they are right, it’s too perfect to put into words. One of those memories you lock in your heart archives, visit on your bad days.

“Elna.”

Reality sets in, I look to Brandon with a smile. We are home. “You are the best husband ever,” I say.

“You think?” I nod.

The unease in his eyes unleashes a ball of worry inside my belly, I lift myself to his laps to straddle him and his arms circle my waist. Caressing his jaw, I ask, “What’s wrong?”

His smile is nervous. “Are you ready to meet Brianna?” I nod, smoothening the lines on his forehead. We just witnessed a beautiful sunrise, I don’t want anything to take that from us. I lean in to press a kiss to his lips but his unresponsiveness causes me to pull back. He gulps and his Adam’s apple bobs. “You will let me explain, okay? Don’t ask too many questions, okay?” I nod again, though perspiration coats my armpits. “I’m scared.”

“Don’t be.” He is freaking me out. “If you are scared, I will be worried and stress is not good for our baby.” His eyes shut tight, I massage his tense shoulders for lack of what to do. Kisses won’t work on him now. “Whatever happens, I’ll still love you, I promise.”

“You cannot promise that.”

Joining our foreheads, I whisper, “I promise.” He finally opens his eyes which cloud with emotions too many to identify, my heart thumps, I will it to calm down. “I promise. I will love you no matter what happens, I just need you to trust me and share your burdens.”

“I didn’t think you were ready that’s why I didn’t say anything,” he says, voice raw with pain. Confused by his choice of words, I just nod and peck the top of his head, I will be here for him no matter what happens. “I didn’t know how to tell you. Don’t be so mad at me, okay?” I press another kiss to his lips. “Don’t leave, I don’t want you to leave again.”

“Is she your daughter?”

The seconds until he replies feel like an eternity, his eyes plead with me to love him regardless and I almost scream for him to hold on when his lips part. “Yes.” He lets out a shaky breath, his arms on my weight tighten as if he heard the inner voice in my head telling me to race back to my parent’s house. I inhale, exhale. “Yes. She is my daughter.”

She is his daughter. Brandon. Brianna.

I have always suspected this to be the case but I was too afraid to face my reality. My thoughts merge into a blurry mess of words, making it difficult to form a coherent sentence. I don’t want her to be his daughter. God. My husband has a daughter. Taking deep breaths, I close my eyes and exhale slowly. I promised to still love him, I promised.

We maintain our position until I peck his lips and laugh at the relief that floods his face. I wish I can share in his joy. But my emotions are tangled in a web of confusion. Daughter.

“I still love you,” I murmur. “You are still the best husband.” I nod when doubt creeps into his eyes, my heart constricts. He has a child, a daughter. It shouldn’t affect me and my unborn child negatively, he cares for us. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

His gaze rakes over me, I offer him a smile. I cannot identify what I feel but I am not mad at him. Maybe, I am, a little because he kept it a secret. With Brandon, lines blur. I never want to pass judgement without understanding him or the reasons for his actions.

“She’s sick, really sick,” he says and I nod, we have established this. “It wouldn’t have made any difference.” My eyebrows shoot up. “I am sorry. No one knows about her.”