Cold Wife, Hidden Baby

"Congratulations, you're pregnant. Eight weeks along."

Jenna Mellon walked out of the hospital, clutching the test results so tightly her knuckles turned white. Her heart hammered against her ribcage like it was trying to break free.

After five years of marriage to Edward Russell, they were finally going to have a baby.

The circumstances, though—those were harder to talk about.

In five years of marriage, Edward had never touched her. Not until two months ago, when he came home blackout drunk and pinned her against their bedroom wall, kissing her with a desperate, almost frantic hunger.

His lips tasted like whiskey—hot and urgent. His hands burned trails across every inch of her skin: her neck, her collarbone, the curve of her waist. Like he was trying to memorize her body through touch alone.

When he carried her to the bed, Jenna's heart nearly burst. Five years of waiting, finally answered in this single moment.

Edward tore open her nightgown and took her nipple into his mouth, circling it with his tongue. Jenna couldn't help the soft moan that escaped her lips as her fingers tangled in his hair.

"Edward..." She breathed his name like a prayer.

But he didn't respond. He only kissed her harder, his fingers sliding between her thighs, finding her already wet. When he pushed inside her, Jenna gripped his shoulders so hard her nails nearly broke skin.

His movements were rough and urgent, each deep thrust making her body clench around him. She could feel every ridge of him as he moved inside her, hitting that sensitive spot that sent electric shocks of pleasure through her entire body.

"Look at me," Jenna choked out, desperate to make this moment real.

Edward lowered his gaze, but his eyes were unfocused, like he was looking through her at someone else.

"You're so beautiful..." he murmured.

Then Edward flipped their positions, pinning her wrists above her head and driving into her with even more force. The bed frame creaked with each powerful thrust, and Jenna's breathing dissolved into broken gasps.

"Harder..." she whispered against his ear, wrapping her legs tightly around his waist.

He obliged, each impact sliding her body upward across the sheets. The pleasure built and built, coiling tighter in her lower belly until she thought she might shatter.

Her climax crashed over her like a tidal wave, her inner walls clenching around him, pulling him over the edge with her.

When Edward released inside her, he let out a low, guttural groan and collapsed against her.

Afterward, Jenna curled into his chest, listening to his strong, steady heartbeat.

Even now, looking back, it still felt beautiful.

She never imagined that one time would be enough to get pregnant.

Jenna couldn't wait to tell Edward the news.

When she returned to Russell Manor, the housekeeper informed her that Edward was in his study and had given strict orders not to be disturbed.

But Jenna couldn't contain herself. She tiptoed upstairs and approached the study door, her hand raised to knock—

A muffled groan came through the crack in the door.

Jenna's hand froze mid-air. She knew that sound intimately.

It was the same sound Edward had made that night two months ago—low, rough, primal.

An unsettling thought crept into her mind.

Why?

Why would he take care of his needs alone instead of coming to her?

Jenna held her breath and peered through the gap in the door.

The study was dimly lit. Edward sat in his office chair with his back to the door, his shoulders rising and falling. One hand gripped the armrest while the other moved in a steady rhythm. In his raised hand, he held a photograph.

Jenna couldn't make out the image, but she could hear Edward's increasingly ragged breathing and the name that escaped from deep in his throat:

"Jenny..."

Jenna's entire body went rigid.

That night, even blackout drunk, Edward had whispered that name in her ear. "Jenny... Jenny..." Over and over, with a tenderness and longing she'd never heard from him before.

Her name was Jenna—just one letter different from Jenny.

At the time, she'd thought it was a pet name he'd given her.

Now, it seemed she'd been wrong.

Because even that night, Edward had never looked at her with the expression of deep love she saw on his face now.

Jenna retreated silently to their bedroom, closed the door, and leaned against it, gasping for air.

She thought back over their marriage.

Five years ago, Edward's mother Samantha had forced him to marry her because Jenna's mother had been Samantha's closest friend. When they were young, they'd made a pact that their children would marry someday.

Later, the Mellon family went bankrupt, and on her deathbed, Jenna's mother had entrusted her to Samantha.

To honor her late friend, Samantha had pushed through with the marriage despite everyone's objections.

Everyone gossiped behind her back: Jenna had social-climbed her way up, using her dead mother's favor to trap Edward.

Maybe they'd been right all along.

Twenty minutes later, Edward walked in.

He wore a charcoal silk robe, his tall frame moving with measured grace. Except for a faint flush still coloring his face, he looked exactly as he always did—calm, controlled, unreadable.

"What's wrong?" Edward's voice came from above her. "You look terrible."

"I'm fine." Jenna forced a smile. "Just a little tired."

"Didn't you go to the hospital today?" Edward sat on the edge of the bed. "What did the doctor say?"

Jenna's heart pounded like a drum.

The pregnancy report was in her pocket. She'd planned to surprise him with the news, but now she didn't know if she should tell him at all.

If Edward's heart belonged to another woman, what would this baby mean to him?

"Just low blood sugar," Jenna said. "Nothing serious."

Edward pulled a small Tiffany-blue box from his pocket and set it on the nightstand. Inside was a bracelet—the design somewhat dated, probably from several years ago.

"Didn't you say you liked this bracelet?" Edward's tone was flat.

Jenna stared at the bracelet. "Thank you," she said quietly.

He probably didn't even remember that last time she'd mentioned wanting the blue necklace, not a bracelet.

"I have some things to take care of the next couple days," Edward said, standing and pulling clothes from the closet. "I might not be home at night. If Mom asks, cover for me."

Suddenly the bracelet made sense—a bribe.

"I understand," Jenna said softly.

With that, Edward went into the bathroom to change.

When he emerged, his hair was perfectly styled and he smelled faintly of cologne.

Jenna was shocked. He rarely put this much effort into his appearance. Was he meeting someone tonight?

Before she could ask, Edward was already gone.

After Edward left, Jenna sat up in bed.

She couldn't stop thinking about that photograph in the study. She had to see it.

When she reached the study, she searched the desk for ages before finally finding the photo in a drawer.

Jenna's hands trembled as she picked it up, her heart plummeting into an icy abyss.

The woman in the photo wasn't her.

It was a couple's photo. The woman wore an equestrian outfit, tall and striking, with a sweet smile.

And standing beside her was her husband, Edward.

Edward had his arm around her shoulders, both of them beaming at the camera with genuine joy.

It was an expression Jenna had never seen on Edward's face.

She'd always thought he was naturally cold and aloof. She never knew he could look this bright and carefree.

The photo looked old—Edward's face still held traces of youthful innocence.

Jenna turned the photo over and found a line of small handwriting on the back.

[To my beloved Edward. Love, Jennifer.]

Jennifer...