In Love With My Bully-Chapter 85: The Race Against Time

Later that day, I met Victor at the office to submit my financial projections for Verna Real Estate. I had spent days perfecting these numbers; estimating income, analyzing market trends, ensuring everything lined up for the next three years. The numbers looked good, but I wanted his opinion before finalizing them.

We talked business for hours, going over figures, adjusting projections.

That was the thing about numbers. They were logical. Predictable. Unlike life.

Specifically, unlike my life which I had no idea where it was headed.

After a while, I poured myself a cup of coffee and leaned back in my chair, closing my eyes for just a second. I was exhausted.

Victor walked back in after his bathroom break. His gaze landed on the steaming mug in my hands.

"Should you be drinking that?" His tone was casual. "I mean, I’ve never been pregnant, but I hear caffeine is bad."

I took a slow sip and exhaled.

"I’m not keeping the baby, Victor," I said. "Dr. Sanders scheduled me in already."

Silence.

I watched as he stiffened, his eyes flickering to the whiteboard we had been working on, still filled with numbers and projections.

"Okay," he finally said.

But it wasn’t okay.

His posture changed, the way he ran a hand through his hair, the subtle clench of his jaw. He was holding something back.

I sighed, already bracing myself.

"So," he said after a long pause, "I’m guessing you didn’t tell Richard."

"What’s the point?" I shrugged.

"Right."

A minute of silence. A heavy, suffocating pause.

Then another question.

"Did you tell your parents?"

I looked up at him, blinking. Was he serious?

"My parents?" I repeated slowly, setting my coffee down. "Really, Victor? How exactly would that conversation go? Hey, Mum. So I just found out I’m pregnant... for my ex-husband. Oh, and one more thing—I’m going to murder your grandchild."

"Okay, no need to be snippy." He rolled his eyes.

I exhaled and rubbed my temples. "Look, this is my decision. It needs to be on my conscience alone."

More silence.

Then, suddenly, Victor turned to me, frantic.

"Nita, you cannot do this," he blurted out. "Call Richard. Tell him."

I frowned. "What’s gotten into you?"

"You cannot do this," he repeated. "I’m sure if you tell Richard, you both can work something out."

I shook my head. He didn’t get it.

"I’m not going to use this baby to make him come back," I said. "Don’t you get it? If he wanted me, he would be here. He made his decision. Now I’m making mine. Do you think I deserve this? This abandonment?"

"That’s the thing... He didn’t abandon you!"

"How would you know?"

He opened his mouth, then stopped.

"I..." He hesitated like he was holding onto something he wasn’t sure he should say. "I meant to say... he wouldn’t abandon you if he knew about the baby."

I stared at him.

And then I smiled. A small, sad smile.

"My point exactly."

*****

Richard’s POV

Life wasn’t as beautiful as I made Nita believe. Only my dad knew the truth. Everyone else thought I was thriving, maybe even enjoying some peace and quiet away from all the chaos. Lies. Absolute lies.

The reality? I was slowly and spectacularly self-destructing.

My days were spent drinking whiskey straight from the bottle and avoiding every single responsibility that came with being the CEO of a multi-billion-dollar company. The only time I sobered up was when I called Nita and even that, I managed only every few days.

I had convinced myself that a month away from her would be enough. That I would forget her. That the ache in my chest would fade. One month became two, extending to three.

Spoiler alert: it didn’t.

Nita Numero wasn’t just the love of my life, she was my entire life. She was the air that I breathed. The most important of my life. My brain? Fried. My will to function? Nonexistent.

The day she told me she was dating Victor, something inside me just... died. And the worst part? I had told him to make his move. Like a goddamn idiot.

Now that he had, I hated him. With every fiber of my pathetic, whiskey-soaked being.

Victor had been calling me for days now, but I couldn’t bring myself to pick up. I knew why he was calling. He probably wanted to tell me how happy they were. Maybe even ask for some sort of weird, bro-to-bro blessing.

Son of a bitch.

The only productive thing I had managed in all this time was finding a location to set up the company’s new headquarters. Not that it mattered much, considering I hadn’t had a single sober day to actually finalize the paperwork.

I was still living in a hotel suite, my place an absolute disaster zone. Half-empty whiskey bottles were lined up like fallen soldiers. My bed was permanently unmade. The curtains were closed so tightly that I had forgotten what natural light looked like.

One night, I even tried getting into bed with a prostitute. And let me tell you, my body betrayed me in ways I never thought possible. It just wouldn’t work. The mutherfucker had a mind of its own. Apparently, even my goddamn anatomy had chosen Nita.

I was a broken man.

Sighing, I reached for my phone and called my dad.

He picked up after a few rings, and I could hear Chayara, making a fuss in the background. Dad had won custody of her, not surprising. You couldn’t go to battle with OG Richard Numero and win. I was glad. It gave him something to focus on, something other than missing my mom.

"Hey, Dad."

"Hi! How are you doing?"

"As well as I can be. I see Chayara is stressing you out."

"It’s nice to have a girl in the house pissing me off."

I chuckled. "I miss you, Dad."

"You want me to come over? I can be there by tomorrow."

"Nah, no offense, but it’s not you I want here."

"I still don’t understand this purgatory you have subjected yourself to." He sighed. "The battle is over, Richard. Why are you still staying away?"

"The battle is over because I am not there."

"Yeah, right. Keep telling yourself that. You are clearly miserable."

"Yup. That, I am."

"I have to go. Chayara is on the verge of making the nanny cry. Call me if you need me."

I hung up.

Seconds later, my phone vibrated again. Dad must’ve forgotten to say something. Without checking the caller ID, I picked up.

"Hey, Da—"

"YOU FUCKING TWISTED SON OF A BITCH!"

I yanked the phone away from my ear. What the—?!

I looked at the caller ID.

Shit. Fuck.

"Hi, Victor!" I greeted cautiously.

"YOU CRAZY ASSHOLE, I HAVE BEEN CALLING YOU FOR DAYS, MUTHERFUCKER!"

Dramatic much?

"Oh wow! You kiss your mama with that mouth?"

"Get your sorry excuse of a self back here RIGHT NOW!"

I frowned. "What? What is going on?"

"I can’t tell you."

"Dude, if you need to tell me you’re dating Nita, I already know. She told me."

Silence.

Then..."WHAT?! What the fuck! You guys are the entire seasons of One Tree Hill rolled into one. SHE IS PREGNANT, YOU KNUCKLE-HEADED IDIOT.

Wait.

Wait, what?

I blinked. "You knocked her up?!"

"Lord Jesus, help me. I AM NOT SLEEPING WITH NITA, NEITHER AM I DATING HER."

Now I was confused. "Then what are you saying?"

There was a long pause before he sighed heavily. "She is going to kill me for this. But she is pregnant. It’s yours. She is scheduled for an abortion tomorrow morning."

Time stopped. My brain froze. I felt like I had just been struck by lightning.

She is pregnant.

I jumped off the bed so fast, I got dizzy. "I gotta go."

I hung up and immediately called Nita. No response.

Shit. SHIT.

I ran out of my room, barefoot, and banged on the door next to mine. Martin opened up, alert as ever.

"Prepare the jet!" I barked.

He blinked at me. "Sir, the jet is back home. You said to send it back so you wouldn’t be tempted to leave."

FUCK.

"Is everything okay, sir?"

"Nita! She’s pregnant. Get the jet back here NOW!"

A slow smile crept onto his face. "Yes, sir."

I ran back into my room, snatched up my phone, and called Victor back. He picked up immediately.

"Victor, for the sake of our friendship, please stall her."

"Oh, we’re friends now?"

"JUST DO IT, YOU SON OF A BITCH."

He let out an annoyed sigh. "Fine. But if she stabs me, I am haunting you for the rest of your miserable life."

"Deal."

I hung up and started pacing. My mind was racing.

Nita was pregnant. With my child.

I needed to get back. I needed to see her. To tell her I still loved her. That I wanted this baby. That I would do anything to fix this mess.