JASON’S POV
The past three days had been... different.
A good different.
Ella had stopped acting like the cold, vengeful wife I had grown accustod to. Instead, she was acting more like my Ella. The one I had fallen for.
And honestly? I had no idea if it was because she was panicking over the whole pregnancy scare or if she was just too exhausted to keep up the Ice Queen act.
Either way, I wasn’t complaining.
For starters—she actually ate my food. Voluntarily.
That was a milestone.
We could now have conversations that didn’t involve dodging sharp objects or bracing myself for a verbal lashing. She even smiled at my attempts to make her laugh. Not a sarcastic, mocking smirk—an actual, real smile.
And the most shocking part?
I found myself using endearing nas more and more, completely unfiltered.
Sweetheart.
Babe.
Princess.
And she never told to stop.
Not once did she roll her eyes. Not once did she hit with sothing in response.
She just... let it happen.
Hell, I even caught her blushing once when I casually threw a "You look cute when you’re annoyed, babe" her way.
It was progress. Serious progress.
We had both decided to work from ho for the ti being. Our assistants brought docunts to the house every day, then took them back once we were done. Any etings our teams could handle, they did. And for the ones they couldn’t, we either held a Zoom call or postponed them to the following week.
Honestly, working remotely had turned out to be the best decision we’d made in a long ti. It gave us ti to breathe, to actually talk without distractions, to just be together.
And the baby talk?
That was the real ga-changer.
Ella had asked a few nights ago, "What happens after the end of the year? When our contract marriage is supposed to end? How do we handle this if I’m pregnant?"
We agreed that we’d wait until we knew for sure before making any concrete decisions.
But ?
I was already praying.
Praying hard.
Because if she was pregnant...
Then not only would I get to stay married to her, but I’d also get a bonus—a child. A piece of both of us. Sothing real.
And the thought of that?
It made grin like a lovesick idiot.
By the second day, sothing had shifted.
Ella was still Ella—still sharp, still quick-witted—but she had softened. At least around .
And God, it was dangerous.
Dangerous how much I wanted to keep her like this.
Every ti she brushed past , every ti she t my eyes and didn’t imdiately glare, every ti she laughed at sothing I said—it only fed the fire burning inside .
And don’t even get started on the nights.
No, not those kinds of nights. Unfortunately.
But the kind where we sat on the couch with a glass of wine, talking about the most random things. The kind where she didn’t move away when I stretched my arm across the back of the couch.
The kind where I found myself watching her more than the damn movie.
And when she dozed off halfway through, her head resting against my shoulder?
Yeah. I was done for.
The third day had finally co.
Seventy-two agonizing hours of waiting, of second-guessing, of overanalyzing every tiny sign Ella showed.
And now, it was ti.
The pregnancy tests I had bought—more than necessary—were sitting in a bag in our bathroom, untouched. Ella had been postponing taking them all day, and I hadn’t pressured her. As much as I was dying to know, I also knew she needed to be ready to face whatever answer lay ahead.
I told myself I wasn’t nervous.
That was a lie.
I was restless, my stomach in knots, my mind bouncing between every possible outco. I was afraid—afraid that the test would be negative, that I’d lose this tiny, fragile hope I had been clinging to. But I was also terrified that it would be positive. Because what then?
Would she leave?
Would she still see this as a contract marriage that had an expiration date?
Would she see as sothing temporary?
The tension was suffocating.
It was evening when she finally decided to take the tests.
She stood up, grabbed three of them, and silently walked to the bathroom. No words. No glance back. Just pure determination.
I didn’t follow her.
Instead, I sat there, my hands clasped together as I stared at the floor like it held the aning of life.
Minutes felt like hours.
Finally, the bathroom door creaked open, and Ella stepped out, her face unreadable. In her hand were the tests, face down. She hadn’t even looked at them.
She swallowed, eting my gaze.
"You check them first."
A lump ford in my throat.
My fingers trembled slightly as I reached for them.
The first test.
Negative.
A pang of disappointnt hit so hard I almost didn’t check the others. My heart dropped to my stomach, a bitter taste filling my mouth. That’s it?
Then, I glanced at the second test.
And the third.
My breath caught in my throat.
Both of them had two bold, undeniable pink lines.
Positive.
I blinked. Once. Twice. My pulse thundered in my ears.
Ella must have seen the shift in my expression because she stiffened. "Jason...?"
I lifted my gaze to hers, my voice barely a whisper.
"You’re pregnant."
Her breath hitched.
Then—silence.
The kind of silence that drowns everything else out, that wraps around you like a suffocating blanket. Her hands clenched at her sides, her lips parting slightly as if she wanted to say sothing but couldn’t.
I took a slow step forward, watching as a thousand emotions flickered across her face—shock, fear, disbelief... sothing else I couldn’t quite na.
I didn’t know if she was happy.
I didn’t know if she was devastated.
But I knew one thing.
I wanted this.
I wanted this more than anything.
My heart slamd against my ribs as I reached for her, my hands hesitating just inches from hers. "Ella..."
She sucked in a shaky breath, her eyes locked onto mine.
She shook her head not believing and wanted to see for herself. She pulled away and walked towards where I had put the test down.
I barely had ti to brace myself.
The second Ella grabbed the negative test, her entire face contorted into pure rage.
"You LIED to ?!" she shrieked, her voice echoing through the room.
Before I could get a word in—BAM!
Her fist slamd against my chest.
Then another.
And another.
"YOU SHOULDN’T HAVE LIED!" she yelled, her punches landing fast and hard, not even giving a second to react. "You shouldn’t have—Damn it, Jason, how could you?! You—You reckless, irresponsible—!"
"Ella!" I tried to grab her wrists, but she was wild.
Kicking. Swinging. A complete storm of fury and frustration.
If anyone saw us right now, they’d think I had actually committed a serious cri.
"You’re telling I went through all this stress, all this panic, all this waiting, just for a NEGATIVE?! Jason, I—"
She went to kick again, but I managed to catch her foot mid-air.
"STOP—punching —for ONE second!" I gritted out, finally managing to grab both her wrists and pin them to her sides. She was still breathing heavily, her chest rising and falling rapidly, her eyes ablaze with raw emotion.
I exhaled sharply, staring straight into her furious gaze.
"Check. The. Other. Two. Tests."
Her eyes narrowed.
"Why?" she snapped.
"Just do it," I said, my grip firm but gentle.
Still glaring at , she yanked herself free and stord back to where the other two tests lay face down.
She grabbed the second one.
And froze.
A sharp inhale.
Her fingers tightened around the test.
She grabbed the third one.
Another pause.
I could see it.
The way her shoulders stiffened.
The way her breathing hitched.
The way her hands shook.
And then, very, very slowly, she turned back to face .
Her lips parted, but no words ca out.
Her eyes darted between and the two positive tests in her hands, her expression shifting from anger—
To shock.
To disbelief.
To pure, undeniable realization.
"Jason..." she whispered.
I stepped closer. "Yeah?"
Her voice wavered. "I... I’m pregnant?"
A small, almost smug smile pulled at my lips.
"Told you."
That earned a slap to the chest.
"JASON, THIS IS NOT THE TI TO BE SMUG!"
I let out a laugh, unable to help myself, grabbing her before she could start another round of kicking.
She was pregnant.
Ella. My wife. Carrying my child.
And I couldn’t be happier.
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