I Slapped My Fiancé—Then Married His Billionaire Nemesis
Chapter 99 - 100 Pregnant

Chapter 99: Chapter 100 Pregnant

Rhys Granger was walking ahead of me, head down, flipping through a stack of paper that had the hospital’s logo on it.

He had his back to me, but I’d have recognised that lanky frame and slightly hunched shoulders anywhere.

Right next to him was Catherine.

She sounded chipper. ‘I told you. It’s positive, right? I’m definitely pregnant! The doctor confirmed it.’

I glanced at the signpost near the stairwell door. This was the obstetrics and gynaecology floor.

My feet carried me forward before I’d even decided to follow; I smelled drama.

The hallway wasn’t crowded, but it was busy enough that I could blend in, trailing after them without being noticed.

Catherine sounded thrilled. Rhys didn’t.

He kept turning the pages like he either didn’t understand the medical jargon or didn’t want to. ‘How the hell did this happen? I used protection every time!’

A few heads turned at that—most people on this floor were all happy tears and heartbeat scans. Rhys was clearly not on-brand.

Catherine noticed, too. Her voice slipped into a pout. ‘Nothing’s one hundred per cent. They say condoms only work, like, ninety per cent of the time.’

Rhys folded the test results and shoved them into his coat pocket. ‘Doc said your bleeding and cramping are concerning. Suggested a threatened miscarriage.’

It was hard to tell whether he sounded irritated or relieved.

‘He recommends admission for monitoring.’

Catherine protested, ‘I don’t want to stay in the hospital. I already gave up the trip to France. I don’t want to be cooped up in a sickroom for months.’

‘Then you want to risk losing the baby?’ Rhys snapped.

That shut her up.

They kept walking.

By this point, I’d forgotten all about the garden. This was far better entertainment.

‘Will you stay with me?’ Catherine asked, voice smaller now.

‘I’ll visit when I can.’

‘But I’ll be lonely.’

‘I’ll hire a nurse.’

‘Fine.’

She clearly wasn’t fine. Her voice dipped at the end, as if hoping he’d change his mind and offer to stay.

He didn’t.

Rhys slowed. ‘Cathy.’

‘Hmm?’

‘Are you sure you want to keep the baby?’

Her voice went sharp. ‘What do you mean, “if I want to keep the baby”? Of course I do! I—’

‘Lower your voice,’ Rhys hissed.

Catherine wasn’t backing down. ‘Doctor said if I get an abortion now, it’ll make it harder for me to have children later. Is that what you want?’

Rhys stopped, ran a hand through his hair, and let out a loud exhale. ‘No.’

‘Then we’re keeping the baby. End of discussion.’

‘I just...’

She took his arm and yanked him over to the admission desk, where she beamed at the nurse. ‘Hi, we’d like to check in.’

She fished the test results out of his coat and handed them over. ‘I’d like a private room—single, preferably en suite. And TV. Wi-Fi. I hear some of your rooms offer a minibar?’

The nurse smiled. ‘Of course, miss. Our Director’s Wing includes all that, plus premium bedding, daily housekeeping, a la carte room service, aromatherapy options, and personal concierge access.’

Catherine turned to Rhys, eyes gleaming. ‘Rhys! I want the Director’s Wing.’

Rhys glanced at the price list. ‘No.’

‘But I’ve never stayed in one!’

‘You’re pregnant, not dying. You don’t need that level of care.’

‘You think I don’t deserve that level of care?’

‘That’s not what I meant,’ Rhys muttered, rubbing his temple. ‘I’m just saying it’s not necessary.’

‘I think it is.’

Rhys scowled. ‘The tickets to France, the cruises, the hotel bookings—none of it was refundable. I’ve already lost close to eighty grand because you didn’t want to go, and now—’

‘I didn’t say I didn’t want to go! I was bleeding and cramping—how could I go?’

Her voice turned soft and wounded. ‘I’d have thought you’d understand. Are you blaming me?’

Even from where I was standing—hiding behind a giant potted fern—I could hear Rhys’s exhausted sigh. He pinched the bridge of his nose. ‘No, I’m not blaming you. I’m just saying—’

Catherine slid her arm further through his. ‘The doctor said I need rest and quiet. I’m only thinking about the baby. Your baby. Doesn’t that matter to you?’

‘Of course it does,’ he mumbled. ‘But I’m not sure staying here’s such a good idea. My parents use this hospital. Maybe we should go somewhere else. What if we run into—?’

He started scanning the corridor.

And that’s when he saw me.

His eyes bulged like he’d just spotted a ghost.

‘Busted,’ I muttered, stepping out from behind the fern like I had every right to be there.

He looked at Catherine, who was still chatting to the nurse about the rooms, then back at me, then at her again.

He froze. Shoulders stiffened, mouth slightly ajar, tie suddenly too tight at the neck.

His face drained. He knew I knew.

‘Rhys, come on, they’re giving us a tour of—’ Catherine turned mid-sentence, caught sight of me, and immediately clutched Rhys’s arm tighter like she thought I might snatch him away.

‘What are you doing here?’

‘What the hell are you doing here?’

They said it in unison.

‘Were you spying on us?’ Catherine added.

‘No,’ I said.

‘Really? What a weird coincidence.’ Catherine patted her still-flat stomach like she was trying to get me to take a photo. ‘So you just happened to be at the same hospital, on the same floor, on the same day as us, right when we came to confirm the pregnancy?’ She enunciated the last word slowly. ‘Who tipped you off? Mum? No, no way she’s still talking to you. Dad? I—’

‘Cathy!’ Rhys snapped, face darkening. ‘I thought we agreed not to tell anyone until—’

She shrugged. ‘She already knows, doesn’t she? She saw us.’

‘Congrats,’ I said flatly. ‘I wasn’t planning to eavesdrop. I just happened to pass by.’

Rhys dragged a hand down his face, then yanked at his tie like it had shrunk two sizes. ‘You shouldn’t eavesdrop like that.’

‘I just told you I wasn’t. And this is a public corridor. If you wanted it kept secret, maybe don’t broadcast your conversation at full volume. Just a thought.’

The nurse at the desk snickered.

Rhys opened his mouth for a comeback, found nothing, then blinked at me like he’d only just noticed my outfit.

‘Wait—you’re a patient? What for?’