Ch. Sorry Hayden, I’m Seven Months Pregnant with Another Man’s Baby 88 Sorry Hayden, I’m Seven Months Pregnant with Another Man’s Baby 88

Chapter 6 

Alex had me in his arms before I could think. 

“Evie. Evie, why are you dressed like this? What happened? What did that bastard do to you?” 

I went limp. The tears came. 

“Alex. You came. Take me home.” 

His face crumpled. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’ll make him pay for this, I swear.” 

The car was warm. My body finally relaxed. 

Alex took my hands, what was left of them and just lost it. Full-on crying. 

“These hands, Evie. You used to play piano with these hands.” His voice broke. “God. What did that bastard do to you?” 

I looked out the window. 

Dated four years. Married five. 

In Ashland, I was the crazy wife. 

In Sunnydale, I was the Ashford heiress. Front page of the society section. 

“Alex. I want a divorce. Set it up.” 

Ten years. And it ended like this, not with a scream, but a whisper. 

I looked at my ruined hands. Closed my eyes. 

A van pulled up where I’d been standing. 

Big guys got out. Jon’s household manager was leading them. 

He showed the sandwich guy a photo. “You seen her? Mr. Hartwell’s looking.” 

The guy squinted. 

The eyes looked familiar. But that girl was a mess. No way she was Mrs. Hartwell. 

He shook his head. 

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The manager called Jon. “Sir. We’ve been looking all day. Can’t find her.” 

Jon was watching Tiffany dance for his grandmother. He frowned, irritated. 

“Fine. Stop looking. She wants to spend Christmas alone? Let her.” 

He hung up. 

His grandmother glanced at him. “Jon. There’s a limit. How many women have you dragged through here, trying to ‘train’ her?” 

“Your parents had a sham marriage, both of them worse than each other. Don’t learn from them” 

“Evelyn made scenes because she actually loves you. Her family’s helped us more than you know 

You don’t treat her like this.” 

A sigh. “You’re not kids anymore. I want great-grandchildren.” 

Jon had been feeling off lately. Uneasy. 

His grandmother’s words made him chew his lip. He looked at Tiffany on the makeshift stage. 

Soft body. Lots of tricks. 

He decided: one last round, then settle down with Evelyn. 

“I know what I’m doing, Grandma.” 

At dinner, he thought about Evelyn. 

Evelyn hated the cold. 

Was she okay out there? 

The unease came back. Stronger. 

He grabbed a turkey sandwich, forced it down. 

Then he remembered, the first Christmas with her. She’d tried so hard. Made him a sandwich from 

scratch, and it came out terrible. 

She’d stuck out her tongue, eyes bright. “Sorry, first try.” 

“I’ll get better.” 

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His heart was racing now. Something was wrong. 

He grabbed his keys and ran. 

Tiffany grabbed his coat, followed. “Jon! You’ll freeze!” 

He ran red lights all the way back to the estate. Searched everywhere. 

Nothing. 

He hit the steering wheel, frustrated. 

Where could she even go? She had nothing. 

Tiffany leaned in, wiped his sweat. 

His eyes dropped to her chest. His throat moved. 

What’s a few more minutes? 

He parked. Carried her inside. 

The door barely closed before something smashed into his knee. He went down hard. 

Pain. He opened his mouth to scream, 

And saw Alex sitting in the dark like death itself. 

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