My Husband Wants An Open Marriage (Julie and Ryan)
Open Billionaire 76

CHAPTER 076.1 Hate To Disappoint You

CHAPTER 076: I Hate To Disappoint You

I pause for a second, my brain refusing to process what I'm seeing.

Two lines. Bold as hell, too. Not even faint, not even giving me room for doubt.

I'm pregnant. Oh, my god.

The stick feels heavier than it should, like it's made of lead instead of plastic. I sink down onto the closed toilet seat, legs too weak to keep holding me up. My hand instinctively moves to my stomach, pressing against the fabric of my dress. I don't know what I'm hoping to replace, maybe a baby kick or something ridiculous like that.

Pregnant.

How? The question turns through my mind, absurd and almost laughable. I mean, I know how, biologically speaking, but after all these years, after every single failure, I'd accepted-no, resigned myself to the idea that it wasn't going to happen for me. "Seven years," I whisper to no one, the words tasting bitter. Seven years of treatments, tears, hormone shots, and endless invasive tests that always ended the same: Sorry, Mrs. O'Brien. It's not you. We can't explain it.

Oh, but now? Now, life decides it's time to give me a cosmic middle finger, right when my world's already teetering on the edge of chaos.

And then the realization hits.

It wasn't me.

It was Ryan.

Oh. My. God.

Ryan, who had me questioning every fiber of my existence, Ryan, who paraded his fertile little mistress in front of me while I cried alone in the guestroom of my own damn house. And now, that mistress is carrying some other guy's baby, isn't she? I mean, I suspected it after I caught her with that man in the surveillance room. But I wasn't too convinced. Now, it makes so much sense.

The laugh starts deep in my chest, low and bitter, like a storm rolling in. Before I know it, it bubbles of Loud and sharp, filling the tiny pharmacy bathroom. I slap my hand over my mouth, trying to stifle it use. The sheer ridiculousness of it all-the timing, the irony, the absurdity-is too much.

The bathroom door creaks open, and I freeze.

no

When the footsteps get closer, I open the stall's door. The intruder is a woman in a floral blouse and too much perfume. Her expression shifts from casual disinterest to thinly veiled concern when she sees me standing there, clutching a pregnancy test like it's a holy relic. Ttry to stop laughing, but now it's worse because I'm embarrassed, and that just makes everything funnier

somehow.

The woman's eyebrows shoot up as she edges closer to the sinks, clearly weighing her escape options.

"I'm not crazy," I say, still giggling, holding up a hand as if to reassure her. "I promise."

She doesn't look convinced. She nods anyway, the way you do when you're trying not to provoke a wild animal, and then she takes the farthest sink from me, washing her hands.

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CHAPTER 076: I Hate To Disappoint You

I clear my throat, straighten my back, and shove the test into my bag, zipping it up like I'm locking away a state secret. With as much dignity as I can muster, I wash my hands and then walk past her, plastering a smile on my face. "Have a nice day," I chirp.

She mumbles something unintelligible, and I make my escape, practically sprinting back to the car.

Once I'm safely inside, I slam the door and rest my head against the steering wheel. The laughter's gone now, replaced by something else-something heavier, deeper, and way more complicated.

What the hell am I going to do?

I fish my phone out of my bag and stare at it for a moment, thumb hovering over the screen. My mind spins in circles, trying to make sense of my emotions. Am I scared? Yes. Angry? Hell yes. Excited? Hell to the fuck yeah. Somewhere deep down, beneath the layers of cynicism and trauma, there's a flicker of something I can't quite

name yet.

Without thinking too hard, I type out a message to Luke.

'Screw the 'keeping distance' rule. Can you sneak in tonight?'

I hit send before I can overthink it. The response comes almost instantly, like he's been waiting for an excuse to talk to me.

'See you at 8.'

For some reason, the sight of those words makes my chest ache. I toss the phone onto the passenger seat and start the car, my mind still a mess of swirling thoughts as I drive back toward the office.

By the time I park, my stomach's twisted itself into a knot. I pull down the sunvisor and flip open the mirror, studying my reflection like I might replace answers hidden in the lines of my face.

I shake my head, shove the visor back up, and step out of the car.

For better or worse, nothing in my life will ever be the same.

That is, of course, until I step into the office and see Ayumi Sato standing in front of Susan's desk. She's dressed in a sleek black suit, and her expression is the same as always-cold, unreadable, and vaguely disdainful.

"Julie," she says. "Susan was just telling me you stepped out."

"I did."

I don't want to smile at her, but I can feel the grin tugging at the corners of my mouth. It's no use trying to tamp it down. The Euphoria from the pregnancy test is still getting the better of me, and Ayumi's eyes are narrowed. Her frown deepens as she stares at me. "What's with the red face?" she says.

"Excuse me?"

"You seem happy."

"Oh?" I say, brushing past her toward my office. "Did you need something?"

She follows me, her heels clicking against the polished floor. "Yes, actually."

I push open the door to my office and gesture for her to step inside. "Come on in."

saint You

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She hesitates for a second before walking in, her gaze sweeping the room. I make a point of walking behind my desk, putting some distance between us, and gesture toward one of the chairs across from me. "Have a seat."

"I'll stand," she says.

Of course, she will. God forbid Ayumi Sato relax for even a second.

She folds her arms, glances around again, and says, "I see you've changed the place a bit."

"Happens when you move in," I reply, leaning back in my chair and clasping my hands on the desk.

Her eyes snap back to me, sharp and assessing. She's always like this-like she's trying to figure out which part of you to dismantle first.

"So," I say, breaking the silence that's becoming unbearable, "is there something specific you wanted to discuss?"

She clears her throat, her expression never wavering. "I came to inform you that the new partnership we've formed with Paragon Jewels is going to be put in motion soon."

I arch a brow. "Okay?"

"There will be a meeting tomorrow," she continues. "You, the CEO, myself, and a few others. Including Ryan O'Brien."

She says Ryan's name slowly, deliberately, like she's dropping a grenade and waiting for it to explode. I don't flinch, but I know she's watching me for any sign of a crack in my armor.

"Got it," I say. "I'm honored that you came in person to tell me this. Details of the meeting will be sent by email, will they not?"

"Yes." Her tone is measured, but there's something else there now-hesitation, maybe? "But I-"

"You what?" I cut her off, tired of this shit. "Thought it would be nice to say it to my face? Thought I'd cry? I'm the little girl who can't keep her private life in check? Let me save you the trouble, Ayumi. I promise you, there's nothing for you to worry about. Just like I said in the interview, the only thing I care about is having both our signatures on a divorce paper. Ryan O'Brien is a business transaction to me now, nothing more if you came here looking for drama, I hate to disappoint you."