I thought it was love.
But that grand proposal—was that just another exclusive scoop he handed to Naomi?
I didn't want to think about it, but masochism drove me to check my phone. I wanted to see how Naomi reported the accident.
Instead, the front page was dominated by a different photo.
**"Mistress Finally Triumphs? Hong Kong Scion Accompanies Childhood Sweetheart for Prenatal Checkup."**
The photo was blurry, but undeniable. Joel was studying a prenatal ultrasound report with intense focus.
He had never come to a single checkup with me.
When we found out Benjamin's gender, I had excitedly tried to show him the ultrasound. He hadn't even looked up from his laptop, merely patting my hand.
"Boy or girl, I like them all," he had said, his tone perfunctory.
That evening, Joel came home with a massive bouquet of roses.
"Wife, I'm sorry." He walked into the bedroom, his voice soft. "I was too busy today, and I was harsh with you."
He sat on the edge of the bed. "Those troublemaking paparazzi—I've dealt with them."
"But you have to understand, this is training. For you and the baby. As a Mason heir, he would have had to get used to the spotlight eventually."
*But he will never grow up.*