Ch. Sorry Hayden, I’m Seven Months Pregnant with Another Man’s Baby 9 Sorry Hayden, I’m Seven Months Pregnant with Another Man’s Baby 9

#Chapter 9 

By the second month after the wedding, I was pregnant. 

Carter was so happy he was grinning like an idiot, and he cooked different meals for me every day. 

He made honey-glazed ribs, chicken soup, and roasted seasonal vegetables, and he even copied, 

plating tutorials online and drew a tiny heart on the edge of the plate with balsamic glaze. 

“That’s enough.” I leaned against the kitchen doorframe and watched him bustle around, unable to hold back a laugh. 

Without turning around, he kept chopping garlic with quick, practiced strokes. “It’s not enough. You’re eating for two now, so I have to take good care of you and the baby.” 

I walked over and wrapped my arms around his waist from behind. 

His body stiffened for a second, then relaxed. He held my hands where they rested over his stomach, his thumb gently rubbing the back of my hand. 

“Carter.” 

“Mm?” 

“When did you start liking me?” 

His knife paused. Then he continued chopping garlic, his voice lowering slightly. “Seven years 

ago.” 

Seven years ago, I was still working as a content manager at my previous company. 

Carter was the project lead from the client side, and we had gone through more than a dozen 

meetings for an annual proposal. 

Every time he came in, he wore a dark dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his forearms. He did not talk much, but every time he opened his mouth, he could shoot down my proposal with brutal precision. 

It drove me up the wall, and behind his back, I called him “the final boss of demanding clients.” 

“You argued with me every day back then.” I rested my chin against his shoulder blade. “Every time a meeting ended, I wanted to quit.” 

He laughed softly. “I know. Every time you finished snapping back at me, the tips of your ears were 

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red.” 

“That was because I was mad.” 

“Was it?” He turned off the stove, turned around, and braced both hands on the counter on either side of me, trapping me between his arms. 

He lowered his head and looked at me, his eyes deep and his voice low. “I thought it was because of something else.” 

My heart skipped a beat. 

His warmth and breath closed in around me, and just when I thought he was about to kiss me, the 

corner of his mouth suddenly lifted, and his tone shifted. 

“So, with absurd confidence, I spent seven years sending someone to your parents’ place to ask for a chance with you, trying to steal you away, and what did I get? You ignored me completely.” 

His sudden complaint made me burst out laughing until my shoulders shook. 

“You’re still laughing?” He raised an eyebrow, but his hands did not move away. Instead, he leaned 

half an inch closer. “Nora Lane, do you know what people in our hometown said about me?” 

“What did they say?” 

Holding back my laughter, I deliberately tilted my head and looked at him. “They said every time 

you sent someone to ask my parents about me, you disappeared right afterward and only showed up 

once a year. Everyone whispered that you must have gotten into trouble somewhere and gone to 

prison, and every year you got out on parole just long enough to ask about me again before going 

back in.” 

Carter stared, then narrowed his eyes, then clenched his jaw before finally letting out a low laugh. 

“Prison?” He pinched my chin with one hand, his thumb pressing lightly against the corner of my mouth. “Then what am I doing now? Breaking out?” 

“Mm.” I nodded seriously. “Reoffending in broad daylight.” 

He laughed, lowered his head, and caught my lower lip between his teeth. His voice was muffled as 

he said, “Then I’d better make the charge stick.” 

Then, looking thoroughly unsatisfied, he let me go and picked up the plate. “Dinner is ready.” 

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This man was always like this. He knew exactly when to stop, and it only made me want him mory. 

I remembered the day after I sent that message to my dad. Carter appeared downstairs at my office 

the very next day. 

“I heard you wanted to see me?” 

I looked around, making sure he was talking to me. “Mr. Shaw? What are you doing here?” 

At that time, I had no idea that the mysterious Shaw family son from my hometown was Carter 

Shaw. 

“I couldn’t wait for the family friend anymore,” he said. “It has been seven years. If you still won’t answer me, I’ll have to change strategies.” 

I froze for a second. “What… do you mean?” 

“What I mean is this.” He took a step forward, lowered his head, and looked at me, his voice steady and even. “Starting today, I’m pursuing you myself. The family-friend route is too slow.” 

I smiled, and so did he. 

Then he bent slightly and looked at me with complete seriousness in the crowded lobby of my office 

building. 

“Nora, I didn’t come because you suddenly wanted to get married. I came because the person you wanted to marry wasn’t me, so I waited for you for seven years.” 

“Now that you don’t want to marry him anymore, I’m here.” 

… 

At some point, I stopped thinking about Hayden. 

He was the man I had gone from wanting to marry, to resenting, to finally giving up on. 

He thought I would wait where I was. 

He thought I could not live without him. 

He thought mourning him like a widow was my only choice. 

Once, I had thought so too. 

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But a human heart, once it has gone cold, will find somewhere else to warm itself. 

When I was seven months pregnant, I went back to my parents’ house to take care of something. 

That night, the doorbell rang. 

My mom went to answer it. 

Then I heard a hoarse voice say, “Mrs. Lane Sr…. I finally came back. I can’t find Nora. Is she here?” 

#Chapter 9 

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