Ch. Sorry Hayden, I’m Seven Months Pregnant with Another Man’s Baby 38 Sorry Hayden, I’m Seven Months Pregnant with Another Man’s Baby 38

Chapter 8 

After he said that, he turned and walked away. 

Jenna’s hoarse, gut-wrenching screams kept going until dawn. 

The same grim fate also claimed the bastard child who’d been born through Claire’s womb. 

Julian stood there in silence, watching her. 

“This animal carrying your blood doesn’t deserve to live in this world,” he said coldly. “My child-the Prescott 

heir-will only ever be Claire’s.” 

“As long as he’s breathing, Claire won’t come back,” he went on. “I’m not giving you even the smallest chance to claw your way back up, and a bastard should rot in the mud for the rest of his life.” 

On the hospital bed, after they performed a hysterectomy on her without anesthesia, Jenna stared at the baby’s lifeless body and realized she’d never imagined the Julian who always seemed so gentle could be this 

terrifying. 

She tried to speak, but her mouth was nothing but mangled flesh and blood. 

The pain swallowed her whole, and she blacked out. 

When the surgery was over, Julian watched as Jenna was transferred to a psychiatric hospital, and only then 

did he board a flight to go find Claire. 

This time, he would never let her go again. 

After I landed in Iceland, I settled into the guesthouse I’d booked. 

Most days here were lopsided, with only about four hours of daylight and nearly twenty hours of darkness. 

Deep winter was the best season to chase the Northern Lights. 

The first few months I was pregnant with William were the happiest I’d ever believed my life could be. 

I used to talk about bringing him here someday, taking him under the aurora to make wishes. 

I wanted to stand under the most beautiful sky on earth and wish that in the next life, we’d still be a family. 

That wish never came true. 

It was fine, because I’d come to make a different one this time. 

In the next life, I wanted us to be mother and son again, and I wanted us to stay far away from a disgusting 

piece of trash like Julian. 

After three days of resting, the whole tour group had arrived. 

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Everyone was here to chase the Northern Lights and explore the wilderness. 

I’d thought the information I left behind was misleading enough to throw Julian off my trail. 

But early on the morning we were set to leave, I still saw him standing outside my door. 

It had only been three days, but his whole face looked wrecked. 

Dark shadows bruised his eyes, and his jaw was rough with stubble. 

The only thing that made him look human was the way his eyes lit up when he saw me. 

“Claire, I finally found you,” he said, voice shaking with relief. “I knew you’d come here. You said you wanted 

to bring our baby here someday and make a wish under the lights.” 

“If you’re here, how could I not be,” he added, stepping closer. “William would be happy, too, knowing Mom 

and Dad brought him with us.” 

That self-satisfied, faux-devoted look made my skin crawl. 

“We’re divorced,” I said. “Can you stop being disgusting?” 

His pupils trembled, and for a split second something lonely flashed across his face. 

Then he soothed himself like he always did, and a smile snapped back into place. 

“It’s okay, Claire,” he said, taking another step toward me. “I know you’re just mad right now. I messed up. I disappointed you too many times, but I swear it won’t happen again.” 

“You have to know something,” he rushed on. “There were so many misunderstandings between us.” 

“I need you to hear me,” he insisted. “What happened between me and that bitch Jenna wasn’t an accident at all. It was her. She drugged my drink, and she lured you over on purpose because she wanted to drive us 

apart.” 

“We got played,” he said, voice rising, righteous anger painted across his face like he expected me to feel it 

with him. 

I looked at the hope in his eyes and had nothing to say. 

“So what,” I said. “Are you trying to tell me pushing me was the drugs talking, too, or that the drugs lasted so long you kept sleeping with her for two straight years and still couldn’t sober up?” 

“Do 

you think I’m stupid?” I asked. “You were clearheaded as hell every time you protected her and hurt me.” 

“You think finding a convenient scapegoat now makes any of that pain disappear?” I said. “You think it makes me forget everything, erase the distance between us, and start over with you?” 

His expression went stiff and awkward, like he couldn’t believe I wasn’t taking the bait. 

I let out a cold scoff and hitched my backpack higher on my shoulder. 

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“Julian,” I said, “you’re a grown man. Stop dreaming, okay?” 

“Even if you told me you got possessed, that someone stole your soul, that you were being controlled and couldn’t help hurting me,” I added, “I still wouldn’t want to get back together with you.” 

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