Divorce Behind a Fake Pregnancy

The aroma of perfectly brewed coffee drifted through the house, pulling me from restless sleep. I found Lee in the kitchen, standing by the counter with two steaming mugs—mine prepared exactly how I liked it, with a splash of vanilla creamer and one sugar cube, not granulated sugar.

"Good morning," he said quietly, extending the mug toward me. His fingers brushed mine as I took it, and I jerked back as if burned.

"Thank you." The words felt foreign in my mouth. We hadn't shared a civil morning in weeks.

Lee nodded, his dark eyes studying my face with an intensity that made me uncomfortable. "I made your favorite—Ethiopian blend."

I took a sip, and despite myself, felt a flutter of surprise. It was perfect. Better than perfect, actually—he'd somehow managed to get the temperature exactly right, hot enough to warm but not so hot it would burn my tongue. When had he learned that?

"I have to get to the office early," I said, setting the mug down and moving toward the stairs.

"Elisabeth." His voice stopped me. "I put some notes in your briefcase. Market analysis reports you might find useful."

I stared at him. "Why?"

Something flickered across his features—too quick to interpret. "Because you're running the company now. You should have all the information you need."

---

The stack of financial reports towered on my desk like a paper mountain, each document representing another piece of the complex puzzle that was Silva Industries. My eyes burned from staring at spreadsheets for the past six hours, but I couldn't stop. Every number, every projection, every strategic analysis felt like a weapon I needed to master.

"Mrs. Bennett?" My assistant, Claire, appeared in the doorway with another cup of coffee. "It's past eight. Maybe you should consider heading home?"

I glanced at the window, surprised to see darkness beyond the glass. "Just a few more reports."

Claire hesitated. "You've been working through lunch again. I brought you a sandwich, but it's still sitting there untouched."

I followed her gaze to the wrapped sandwich on the corner of my desk, forgotten hours ago when I'd discovered a discrepancy in the quarterly projections. My stomach growled in protest, but the numbers demanded my attention more than food.

"I'm fine," I lied, turning back to the computer screen. "Could you pull the acquisition files from 2019? I want to understand the Patterson merger better."

Claire lingered. "Mrs. Bennett, if I may... you're doing incredible work. The board members have been talking. They're impressed."

A warm flush of pride swept through me, unexpected and powerful. For ten years, I'd been content to let Lee handle business while I played the supportive wife. Now, discovering my own capabilities felt like unearthing buried treasure.

"Thank you," I murmured, but my attention was already drifting back to the profit margins displayed on my monitor.

After Claire left, I found myself staring out the floor-to-ceiling windows at the city lights below. Somewhere out there, Lee was probably having dinner. Maybe with Saige. Maybe planning their future while I sat here, alone, learning to rebuild mine from the ground up.

I gripped the edge of my desk, knuckles whitening as the familiar ache settled in my chest. Focus, Elisabeth. Numbers don't lie. Numbers don't betray you.

---

The knock on my office door came at precisely ten-thirty the next morning. I looked up from the quarterly budget review to see Saige Butler standing in my doorway, her hand resting protectively on the gentle curve of her belly.

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything important," she said, though her tone suggested she didn't care if she was.

My fingers tightened around my pen. "What do you want, Saige?"

She glided into my office uninvited, her movements deliberately graceful as she settled into the chair across from my desk. "I wanted to talk. Woman to woman."

"About what?"

"About Lee. About how happy he is now." Her smile was sharp as broken glass. "He talks about the baby constantly. How excited he is to be a father. How different everything feels with me."

Each word was a carefully aimed dart, designed to find the soft spots in my armor. I kept my expression neutral, though my grip on the pen grew so tight I heard the plastic crack.

"He never wanted children with you, did he?" Saige continued, tilting her head with mock sympathy. "Ten years of marriage, and he never once suggested starting a family. But with me... well, some women just inspire different dreams."

My desk bore the brunt of my tension as I pressed my palms flat against its surface, knuckles turning bone white. "If you're here to gloat, you can leave."

"I'm here because I care about Lee's happiness." Saige leaned forward, her voice dropping to an intimate whisper. "And he's happier than I've ever seen him. Free, you know? Like he's finally living the life he was meant to live instead of the one he settled for."

The words hit their mark, sending a sharp pain through my chest. But I'd learned to armor myself these past weeks, to build walls from spreadsheets and strategic plans.

"Are you finished?" I asked, my voice steady as stone.

Saige studied me for a moment, perhaps disappointed by my lack of visible reaction. "For now." She stood gracefully, one hand trailing over her belly. "Oh, and Elisabeth? Lee asked me to tell you he'll be late tonight. We have a doctor's appointment. Our first ultrasound together."

After she left, I sat alone in my office, staring at the indentations my fingernails had left in the leather desktop. Outside my window, the city continued its relentless rhythm, oblivious to the small devastations playing out in corporate boardrooms.

I reached for my phone, then stopped. There was work to do. Always work to do. And work, unlike love, rewarded dedication with measurable results.