So Long, Mr. CEO. I'm Now With Your Brother

　　ROXANNE

　　'Pregnant'.

　　I read the word on the pink stick, my heart beating loudly inside my chest.

　　This was unplanned. Josh wouldn't like this, I was certain. But, he had said he wanted me. He had come to me every other night for the past one years in the five years of our marriage.

　　So, maybe this time would be different. As they say, 'third time's the charm'. Plus it was our fifth year anniversary today so this must be the universe saying something positive about my marriage to Josh.

　　Nerves gave way for smile to bloom.

　　Yes, I'd take this as a sign. A positive sign.

　　I drew on my panties, made myself presentable in the bathroom mirror and set out to go think of what to do to celebrate this day with him.

　　It was still morning. He should be in his room dressing up for work.

　　I walked the short distance across the hall to knock on his door.

　　He opened it almost immediately, turning away to continue his call. "Okay, see you later." Then he emitted a low laugh, "I can't wait. Bye."

　　The call ended.

　　My lips spread slightly in a curious smile, "who was that?"

　　His tie still hanging unknotted about his neck, he beamed, "it's Vanessa."

　　My smile disappeared, nerves returned — humming low in the pit of my stomach, "oh."

　　"Yeah," the excited smile still on his face, he began knotting his tie, "guess what?"

　　Trying to keep on a positive expression, I asked, "what?"

　　"She's coming back." If he could grin any wider, his handsome face would burst into fireworks.

　　Vanessa Gilmore.

　　His long time girlfriend, and mother of the child I'd been nannying since he was a baby.

　　Not just that. She was the heiress of Gilmore Empire — the multi-billion company known across countries and continents.

　　I knew he loved her when I agreed to marry him and become a substitute wife and mother to him and his son respectively.

　　Love had never been part of the deal for both of us, but along the line we got close and when he came to me at night, I felt his affection for me.

　　So I bore this hope that he wouldn't go back to her. That it would be just me, him and Ethan always.

　　Maybe there was still hope, I said, clutching the strip in my hand tighter.

　　Just maybe.

　　"Today's our anniversary," I approached him, forcing a lovely smile across my features.

　　He merely glanced over, finishing the knot, check-in himself out in the mirror, "Oh."

　　"Yes. So I was thinking," keeping the smile, not letting his nonchalance affect the positivity I was trying so hard to hold onto, "we should…"

　　The door opened, startling me a bit.

　　I blew a breath, seeing it was Patricia, his mother. Annoyance speared, but I banked it, "good morning, Mrs. Caldwell."

　　The always elegantly dressed woman in her early fifties but looked ten years younger, all thanks to the cosmetic surgeries and products, sashayed into the room, ignoring my greetings. Her hair was in a sleek chocolate brown bob, her face already glowing with make up.

　　"Good morning, mom," Josh greeted, leaning in to kiss both her cheeks, his rich brown eyes still twinkling with excitement.

　　"Good morning, my darling. What is she doing here?" She asked, pointing a well manicured finger at me as though I was some overbearing trash.

　　I wasn't surprised, and I tried not to let her words get to me after five years.

　　"Nothing. Guess what, mom?" He waved a hand as though the talk of me was inconvenient at the moment.

　　I said nothing, just watched them both pretend I wasn't there.

　　"What?" She cast me a brief glare, then turned to her son.

　　"Vanessa is coming back home," he announced like a child who had just been told that his favorite person in the world was returning after a long time of being apart.

　　"What?" Patricia's face lit up happily as well, her red painted lips widening, "finally, the true wife of my son is coming home."

　　She wanted me to hear her, and I did.

　　Anger, pain, jealousy rippled through me. I clutched the strip so hard I thought it would break.

　　After all these years, I still didn't mean anything to Josh. Or maybe it wasn't as much as I thought I did. I studied his expression.

　　He'd never smiled that big before when it was any matter concerning me.

　　Maybe it was just the sex.

　　"Well," Patricia turned to face me again, not bothering to hide the spite in her eyes, "I guess your time as his wife has come to an end. Josh will serve you the divorce papers, right? Moreover, your marriage contract ends in a few weeks, doesn't it?"

　　Oh God, I thought as despair hit like a brick.

　　I'd forgotten about the expiration date of the marriage contract. In fact, I'd never thought about ending this marriage with him.

　　Still, I looked at Josh. To know if he would say anything. Anything at all.

　　He cleared his throat, meeting my gaze awkwardly, "my mother is right, Roxanne. Your services as my wife are no longer required."

　　Services. Required.

　　Like I was some whore he picked up on the streets for the night and paid when he'd had his fill.

　　"Josh, a-are you serious?" My voice shook, tears were this close to welling.

　　Uncertainty flickered, then his expression went flat, "let's not make a big deal out of this, Roxanne. You know…"

　　"No!" I cut him off, tears spilling now, "you can not just discard me like that, Josh. Everything I did, I did for you! I did because I love you."

　　"Love?" His mother cut in, scoffing, "you stupid girl, how dare you speak of love?! You, the daughter of a mere housekeeper?! The audacity! You want to love a son of the Caldwell family?"

　　Anger blurred the edge of my vision, I whirled on her, "he didn't think of my status when he came to my room every night for the past one year, did he? When he was having sex with me and telling me how much he loved me and how he would never let me go, did he think of me as the housekeeper's daughter?!" My voice broke.

　　"Roxanne!" Josh's anger was palpable, despite the calm demeanor.

　　"What, Josh?" I faced him again, finally raising the strip for them to see, "at least, I'm holding the evidence."

　　Patricia gasped, snatching the strip from me as if she couldn't believe words from my mouth unless she saw evidence, her eyes went round.

　　She rounded on her son, "you were having sex with her?" Disappointment rang clear in her tone.

　　He blanched, trying not to look at the strip his mother held in front of him. He cast me a glare, "whatever happened, mom, it was mistake."

　　My heart dropped to my stomach, sadness cuddled tight, "a mistake?" My voice was barely a whisper, tears flowed freely.

　　Patricia took a deep breath, her expression unsettling me as her eyes rounded on me, "listen, I don't know what your plan is, but get this straight. You'll never be worthy of my son, and you will not ruin his relationship with Vanessa. She is the heiress and you know what it means when a Caldwell merges with a Gilmore. You have no place in his life. You're nothing but a high school dropout, born into poverty and you'll die in one,"

　　She continued venomously, not sparing my feelings.

　　"The deal wasn't to fall in love or get pregnant. You will not tie my son with that thing in your stomach," She wagged the strip in my face.

　　As she spoke condescendingly to me, I looked over at Josh who was now wearing a tight expression, not defending me. I swiped at tears, thinking of all the promises he made whenever he came to me.

　　"Get rid of it." Patricia deadpanned.

　　Shock froze my blood, but I quickly recovered. I drew myself up, "no, I will not."

　　"What?!" Mother and son echoed.

　　Josh looked like he was about to fall on his face. I saw the terror, not because he didn't want a child with me. But because he didn't want Vanessa to know.

　　But that wasn't my concern. In a steadier voice, I repeated, "no, I will not. I have done two abortions in the past because your son wanted me to. I will not keep killing an innocent child and endangering my life to please your son."

　　Before either of them could say another word, little Ethan walked into the room, "mommy." Oblivious to the tension in the room, he ran to me rubbing sleep from his eyes, letting out a yawn.

　　I lifted him up, giving him his usual morning kiss, ready to bury my pain and distress to take care the boy who I had come to love like he was my own son, "how was your night, baby?"

　　He beamed at me, not paying attention to his father or grandmother, "fine, mommy. I'm hungry."

　　I gave him another kiss, feeling my emotions growing positive already, "let's go get you freshened up and I'll feed you many bowls of your favorite cereal."

　　I tickled him, leaving the room. His laugh, like music to my ears, was already making my stressful morning better.