The Billionaire's Contract Wife: Six Months To Leave

Orlena's POV

I couldn't stand the situation anymore and I just turned to continue what I was doing, even though my hands didn't feel steady and my chest still felt tight.

There was a bigger issue in my life now, something I could not ignore no matter how much I wanted to, and I needed to find a solution to it before everything got out of control.

"Orlena."

Brent's voice stopped me dead in my tracks.

I froze for a second, my back still facing him, my fingers tightening slightly where they hung by my side.

What is it you want to say? You have never said my name out loud like this since we met, Brent...

I slowly turned to face him, and the moment I did, I saw the bright smile on his face. I had never seen before in all the years I had spent with him.

But it wasn't for me.

It was directed at Joan.

My chest tightened but I kept my face straight, forcing myself to listen.

"Joan will be staying here for the next few months," he said.

That was it.

No explanation, no discussion, nothing else added to it. His tone made it clear it was already decided.

I nodded slightly, even though my throat felt dry. Of course, I wasn't in a position to ask anything or refuse. I never was.

He had already made up his mind, and all he needed was for me to hear it.

I turned again, taking a step away, but just then my alarm rang, the sharp sound cutting through the quiet and making me flinch a little.

I pulled out my phone and glanced at the screen.

Time to pick up Eli.

My fingers tightened slightly around the phone as I took a deep breath, lifting my hand to wipe at my cheek when I felt the dampness there. I didn't even know when the tears slipped out.

Get yourself together.

I turned and started heading toward the door.

"Where are you going?" Brent asked.

I paused, looking back at him.

"To pick up Eli from school," I said.

He didn't hesitate. "I'll go. With Joan. You should rest."

My eyes widened slightly before I could stop it.

What? He had never done that before.

Even when he had the time, he never went alone. He always went with me, and when he was busy, I was the one who went.

Eli was used to me, he always waited for me, always ran to me the moment he saw me, holding my hand like he didn't want to let go.

He didn't like strangers, and even with Brent, he still preferred when I was there.

And now...

Now he was going with Joan?

Just like that?

My fingers curled slightly as the thought settled in. Was this how it was going to be now?

Was he already replacing me before the time even came? Filling my place with the woman he actually wanted?

I pressed my lips together, trying to keep my expression normal, but my head had already started to throb again, and a sudden wave of nausea rose from my stomach without warning.

Not now please...

I swallowed hard, trying to push it down, but it only got worse.

"I..." I tried to say something, but my voice came out wrong.

Another wave hit me, stronger this time.

I didn't wait.

I turned quickly and rushed upstairs, my steps uneven as I held onto the railing for a second before forcing myself forward.

I could hear Cassandra's voice behind me, saying something I didn't catch, but I didn't stop.

I barely made it to my room before I pushed the door open and hurried straight to the bathroom.

My bag slipped from my hand on the way, hitting the floor with a dull sound as everything spilled out, but I didn't stop to look.

I bent over the sink, gripping the edge tightly as my body jerked forward.

The nausea came fast and hard, leaving me weak as I tried to catch my breath between it.

"God..." I muttered under my breath, my voice shaking.

It took a moment before it passed, and when it finally did, I stayed there, breathing slowly, my chest rising and falling as I tried to steady myself.

I lifted my head and looked at my reflection.

I looked terrible.

My face was pale, my lips dry, and my eyes looked tired, like I hadn't slept in days.

I turned on the tap and splashed water on my face, letting it run down as I tried to calm myself.

This is getting worse.

I wiped my face slowly and stepped out of the bathroom, my movements slower now, my body still feeling weak.

But the moment I walked into the room, Brent was there.

My breath caught.

He stood near the bed, his attention focused downward, and it took me only a second to realize what he was looking at.

My bag.

Everything I had dropped earlier was still scattered across the floor.

My heart skipped.

No...

I took a step forward, but my feet slowed when I saw it in his hand.

The paper.

The test result.

My chest tightened so suddenly it felt like something was pressing down on it.

For a moment, I couldn't move.

"Are you not well?" he asked, his voice calm as he looked at the paper.

Color drained from my face as I stood there, unable to move, unable to think, my eyes fixed on the paper in his hand.