Accidentally Pregnant After Divorcing The Billionaire

1.Chapter 1 End Of Their Union

The courthouse clerk pushed the divorce certificates towards Jonathan Lynn and Teresa Johnston with a brisk "Guard these well."

Their muttered thanks were barely audible as they each took hold of the documents that signified the end of their union.

As they parted, Jonathan cast a lingering, weighted glance at Teresa before striding out of her life, never looking back.

The echoes of their passionate disputes and his parting shot—"Let's call it quits. I'm done."—lingered in her mind like a fading echo.

Teresa limped out of the courthouse, her legs aching from the tumultuous night she'd endured with Jonathan. It had been a brutal finale to their relationship, a symphony of pain that threatened to buckle her knees.

The phone in Teresa's pocket buzzed with an incoming call from Miriam Shaw, her best friend. She thought a drink with Miriam could be just what she needed to dull the pain, even if just for a little while.

At the bar, Miriam's eyes fell on the divorce certificate, her brow furrowing with concern. "You're really doing this, huh?"

Teresa nodded, her voice devoid of emotion. "Yeah, it's final."

Miriam struggled to process it. "But Jonathan adores you. How could he just let you go?"

Teresa's gaze turned to ice. "He told me it's over." She paused, swallowing hard to keep her composure. "He's done with me."

Miriam, her eyes sharp as daggers, leaned in, her voice a whisper that cut through the silence. "Is he with that woman now? What was her name again? Yvonne Chapman?"

Teresa's shoulders rose and fell with a sigh, the day's weight pressing down on her. "Haven't a clue, and frankly, I'm past caring. His drama's not my scene anymore."

She raised her glass to take a sip, but the liquid turned bitter on her tongue, followed by a queasy twist in her stomach.

Miriam's sigh was a hiss of frustration. "Figures. I always said those shotgun weddings were doomed from the start."

Teresa paused, lost in thought, recalling the start of her story with Jonathan. It had all begun two years back when she was healing from a heartache.

Seeking solace, she turned to old friends and found herself at a dinner where Jonathan unexpectedly walked into her life.

He was striking—tall, charismatic, and possessing an allure that was hard to resist. After sharing a meal together, he managed to get her number.

Their conversations flowed like the river of time, and Teresa found herself drawn to his caring ways. He had asked her out, but she was hesitant, not yet ready to return to the world of dating.

On a night when the wine had her feeling bold, Teresa's usual reservations faded away. With a shaky finger, she hit record on WhatsApp and sent a voice message to Jonathan. "Hey, Jonathan... Do you have feelings for me?"

The line crackled with tension as Jonathan's voice pierced through. "You're tipsy," he said.

She shot back, her words tumbling out in a defensive flurry. "Fine, Jonathan, spill it. You got a thing for me? Those late-night talks and roses aren't just friendly, are they?"

His response was decisive, brooking no debate. "This isn't something to discuss over the phone. I'm coming over."

She wrote him off as all talk, especially at the unholy hour of 3 AM. But there he was, pulling up in his BMW, the winter air painting his ears a vivid red against the night.

Maybe it was the buzz from the alcohol, or maybe it was the surprise of his arrival, but she found herself waving him inside.

The night unfolded into one she'd never forget—she rose up, laced her arms around his neck, and pressed a kiss to his lips. A moment frozen in time.

His response was more intense than she'd bargained for, catching her completely off guard. With a laugh that was half-giddy, half-shocked, she joked, "You're on the hook for this, Jonathan."

He met her gaze, unwavering. "I know." And with that, he sealed their fate.

In the span of a heartbeat, Teresa went from single to Mrs. Lynn, swept off her feet by a romance that moved faster than a summer storm.

The day she pledged her life to Jonathan's, he'd slipped a ring onto her finger and, with a playful smile, whispered, "Mrs. Lynn, you're stuck with me now, for richer or poorer."

She was a fresh-faced 22; he, a seasoned 25. Fast forward two years, and their vows were as broken as the hearts they left in their wake.

Sipping from her glass, Teresa tasted the bitterness of her current reality, each drop as sour as the memories of what once was.

Miriam, her voice a soft caress of worry, leaned in. "So, how's the divorce shaping up? I've heard you're the one with the financial upper hand compared to Jonathan."

Teresa had been the envy of her peers—gorgeous and loaded. Even the divorce of her parents hadn't touched her wealth; she'd coasted through college on a $30,000-a-month stipend and had three Porsches for every day of the week.

Jonathan, with his charm and corner office, was outclassed by Teresa's financial clout.

As Teresa's best friend, Miriam was anxious, fearing that Teresa might lose more than just a husband in the split.

"He's leaving with nothing," Teresa said softly to Miriam. "The house we shared, he bought it, and I don't want it. His belongings, his memories—they're all his." Her eyes, distant and thoughtful, looked into the void. "But I don't think he'll stay in Nareigh, will he?"

The memory of the courthouse was as sharp as the day it happened. Teresa's voice had cut through the air like a knife, final and resolute as she spoke to Jonathan. "It's over, Jonathan. I hope you find whatever it is you're chasing."

She didn't linger for his response, just turned on her heel and walked away, the echo of her footsteps marking the end of their story.

2.Chapter 2 Two Years Since Their Divorce

Fast forward two and a half years, and Nareigh was abuzz with the latest scoop. "Jonathan Lynn, the CEO of the Horizonlead Group, is back in town for a board meeting," a reporter's voice crackled over the radio.

"In just two years, he's built a public company and a personal brand. At 29, he's the youngest..." The reporter continued to list his achievements, but Teresa was only half-listening, her mind swirling with memories of the past.

The breaking news alert blared from the TV, and Teresa's perfectly crisp apple slipped from her fingers, bouncing off the hardwood with a thud.

Her attention was laser-focused on the screen, where a man with a jawline that could cut glass and eyes that seemed to see right through the camera was the center of attention. His face was a mask of steely calm, determination etched into every line.

The media scrambled for a sound bite, but he wasn't having it, dismissing them with a curt "No comments" before slipping into his sleek car. All that was left was the lingering image of his powerful silhouette as he drove away.

Feeling a whirl of emotions, Teresa realized it had been over two years since their divorce, and she hadn't crossed paths with him since. Time seemed to have only enhanced his charm, making his presence even more electrifying.

He'd built an empire in the blink of an eye, and with the company's recent IPO, it was printing money, raking in billions each year. His wealth had undoubtedly grown to immense proportions.

"Mommy, that man on TV is so handsome!" her child, Michael Johnston, piped up, lollipop stick poking out from between words, eyes wide with wonder.

Teresa, still reeling from the sight of Jonathan, responded without thinking, "Mr. Lynn!"

In the warmth of their small apartment, a tiny carbon copy of Jonathan, named Michael but affectionately called Mike, playfully mimicked Teresa with an endearing earnestness, exclaiming, "Mr. Lime!"

Teresa blinked away her wandering thoughts, her throat clearing a signal for action. "Come on, little man," she said, switching off the TV with a click. "Time to scrub up. Dinner awaits."

Michael's lip curled into a pout, his lack of enthusiasm palpable. "More gruel?" The question was more of a plea than a complaint.

Teresa shot him a playful glare, one that spoke volumes about gratitude. "You've got a full plate, and that's more than some get."

But those eyes, sparkling with the innocence of youth, had a counterargument ready. "But other moms make yummy meals..."

Teresa's eyebrow arched, a teasing grin playing on her lips. "Well, maybe you should go find one of those moms, because this one's serving gruel tonight."

With an exaggerated huff, Michael—nearly two and already a master of dramatics—prodded at his gruel.

Teresa's world had just taken an unexpected twist after the divorce—she was pregnant, the baby already a few months in.

With her ex, Jonathan, long gone from Nareigh, she was on her own for this new adventure, her best friend Miriam by her side as her confidante.

Embracing the role of a single mom, Teresa welcomed her son into the world, a mini-Jonathan if ever there was one. He had his father's looks and, to Teresa's amusement, his neatnik tendencies. He steered clear of anything too strong-smelling.

Every time Teresa savored her gumbo, Michael's face would contort into a mask of utter disgust.

"Live a little, just one bite," she coaxed, nudging the bowl towards him with a playful smile.

"No way, that stuff is gross!" Michael retorted, his nose crinkling in protest.

Teresa chuckled, shaking her head in mock disapproval. "You're your father's son through and through."

Michael's eyes sparkled with curiosity as he edged closer, his voice a hushed murmur. "So, what happened to my dad?" The question hung in the air, innocent yet probing.

Teresa, ever the cool one, grabbed a napkin to dab at her mouth. "Didn't we cover this? Your dad's history. Not my type." She delivered the line with a straight face, but her eyes sparkled with mischief that Michael could almost taste.

Michael, the little comedian, shot back, "Then find me a new dad, pronto. One who can cook and is as handsome as that guy we saw on TV."

Teresa choked on her surprise at his reply. Jonathan was a decent cook, but she wasn't about to give him that credit.

Deep in thought about their conversation, Teresa was startled by her phone's insistent buzz. She glanced at the caller ID and hit answer.

Miriam's voice bubbled with a mix of urgency and enthusiasm. "Have you seen Benny's birthday invite? I've been texting you about it."

Benny Simpson, a buddy from her college days, was preparing for his birthday party, and both Teresa and Miriam were on the invite list. The event was just two days from now, quickly drawing near.

Teresa paused, her voice barely audible as she murmured, "I'll give this one a skip."

The image of her first encounter with Jonathan at Benny's BBQ was starting to blur around the edges, like an old snapshot. She could admit that Benny had a hand in bringing them together back then.

As Benny's birthday loomed, she wavered on the idea of Jonathan showing up. Their divorce had put a couple of years between them, leaving them as distant as strangers.

Miriam, persistent as ever, made her case. "Benny's been calling non-stop. He'd be gutted if you weren't there, especially after you bailed last year."

With a firm shake of her head, Teresa replied, "I'll make it up with a kickass gift."

Michael, her young one, tugged on her sleeve, his eyes bright with curiosity as he gazed at the 'Benny' on the invitation. "Mommy, how do you say this name? It looks like Bunny," he asked, pointing.

Teresa smiled down at him. "That's 'Benny', sweetheart," she replied.

Michael was a prodigy, zipping through words and sentences faster than his peers. Teresa secretly believed she had a hand in that—his linguistic flair was a family trait.

Miriam's voice bubbled with enthusiasm over the phone, her smile infectious. "Mike's all set with me. And don't even think about Jonathan. He's too big-time now for our little get-togethers. Benny can wish all he wants, but Jonathan's not about to crash the party."

Miriam's words tumbled out without pause, "So, it's settled then. I'll come grab Mike later. You're gonna have a blast!"

Teresa's heart sank a bit. Motherhood had been a crash course in budgeting—bills for the basics piled up. New clothes? A luxury she'd long given up.

To keep their heads above water, they'd sold everything in the garage except for the Porsche Cayenne, a glimmer of their past life.

As dusk settled in, Teresa got ready, slipping into a rare night out alone.

Pulling up to the luxurious hotel, Teresa glided her Porsche into a parking spot, her eyes catching sight of Benny's car.

*****

The door to "Rose Hall" swung open, revealing Teresa as she entered, escorted by a waiter.

Benny laughed loudly when he saw her. "Hey, look who's here!" he joked, making Teresa feel less nervous. "You got here just in time for my birthday."

With an affectionate eye roll, Teresa embraced Benny. "Traffic was a killer," she apologized, passing him the gifts. "And this one's from Miriam."

As she settled into the seat Benny pointed out, Teresa scanned the room with a sense of relief. No sign of Jonathan.

The room was filled with familiar faces—peers from her past and a few of Benny's old chums she wasn't particularly close with, but their presence was comforting all the same.

The room was alive with the hum of a new guest catching the eye of the group. "Benny, who's the stunning newcomer?" someone called out, clearly captivated.

Benny responded with a playful smirk. "That's Teresa, the star of Nareigh University. But don't even think about it—she's taken."

His announcement had Teresa sputtering into her drink. 'Taken? Since when?' she thought to herself.

Benny's gaze dropped to his watch, his brow furrowing with impatience. "We're missing one more. What's the delay? I hope he's not standing us up."

Teresa was about to ask about the awaited guest when a voice echoed from the entrance.

"Apologies, everyone. The traffic was brutal," a voice as smooth as silk and as deep as the night apologized, capturing the room's attention.

3.Chapter 3 Meet Again

At the sound of that voice, Teresa's heart did a backflip. It was a voice from her past, one she hadn't heard in what seemed like forever. Over two years had flown by, and now, the owner of that voice was here, in the flesh.

Teresa took a deep breath, her glass clinking softly as she placed it on the table. With a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes, she raised her gaze to meet Jonathan's. Her expression was a mask of calm, echoing the collected smiles around her.

Jonathan loomed over the room, his long black coat draping his frame like a cloak of authority. His sharp features were etched with confidence, making him the undeniable focus of every eye in the room.

While Teresa watched, Jonathan was engrossed in birthday salutations to Benny. Once the pleasantries were exchanged, his attention flicked to Teresa, a flicker of acknowledgment in his gaze.

"Didn't expect you to come," he said, his voice casual, as if they'd just seen each other yesterday.

Teresa matched his casualness with a shrug, "Been a while," she replied, glossing over the chasm of time that had lain between their last meeting.

Teresa found herself stealing glances at Jonathan, struck by how his looks had sharpened over time—he was even more dashing and fit. She let out a small, dry laugh and sipped her drink to mask her surprise.

Benny, playing the perfect host, motioned for Jonathan to take a seat.

Teresa's stomach did a flip when she saw Benny had placed Jonathan right beside her. Her heart thumped with a sudden, unsettling anticipation.

"I'll just give us a bit more elbow room," Teresa muttered, almost to herself, as she nudged her chair away from Jonathan's.

Benny, with a glint of mischief in his eyes, joked, "You guys are still so formal, even as a couple."

Teresa shot him a look that was half-warning, half-plea for him to stop.

Ignoring Teresa's silent signals, Benny turned to the group and announced, "I was just saying, this beautiful lady here is with Jonathan Lynn, the CEO of Horizonlead Group!"

A murmur of surprise rippled across the room. "Wow, this is Jonathan?" someone whispered in awe.

"Benny, you sly fox, you never said we'd be in such esteemed company!" another guest joked, clearly awestruck.

A voice piped up, "We would've picked up something swanky for Mr. Lynn if we'd had a clue!"

New to Jonathan, a few guys hurried to pour him drinks, vying for his favor.

For Teresa, there were compliments too. "Mrs. Lynn, you're stunning, a perfect complement to Mr. Lynn," they flattered, shoving drinks her way.

But Jonathan quickly interjected, "She's a lightweight and prefers soft drinks over alcohol."

Benny brushed it off with a chuckle, patting Jonathan on the shoulder. "Just being a good husband, looking out for his wife," he dismissed, hoisting his glass. "Enough chatter. Let's get this party started!"

Teresa felt overwhelmed and decided she needed a break. She rose, her voice hushed. "I'm off to the restroom," she informed the room, carefully stepping around Jonathan.

In the process, her stockings brushed against his trousers, setting off a static shock that zapped her calf. The surprise jolt made her face flush with a heat that had nothing to do with the room's temperature.

Jonathan, still feeling the electric aftermath, shifted uncomfortably and took a gulp of water to ease his dry throat. Even after all this time, Teresa's poise and allure were as striking as he remembered.

*****

Finding sanctuary in the restroom, Teresa let out a long breath. 'Stockings were a bad idea,' she thought to herself, her heart pounding at the thought of her ex-husband.

She whipped out her phone and tapped out a quick text to Benny. [Got a sudden errand. Gotta bounce.]

Benny's reply came fast, his confusion clear as day. [Wait, what? Your coat's right here.]

Teresa: [Yeah, I know. Could you grab my coat? I'm by the elevator, face-to-face with going back.]

Teresa lingered at the doorway, her enthusiasm dampened. She'd shown up for Benny's birthday bash, but if she had an inkling her ex would be present, she would've made other plans.

Benny emerged, holding out Teresa's coat. As she took it, she let her frustration out with a kick to his shin.

"Ouch! That's got some bite, Teresa—trying to take down the birthday boy?" Benny jested, nursing his shin.

"Had it coming," Teresa retorted, her irritation clear as day. "You knew about the divorce, yet you still invited him. You've been dropping hints all night. You're doing this on purpose."

Benny grinned, wincing slightly. "He's my buddy, and you're my friend—I was just trying to play matchmaker."

"Save it, Benny. Jonathan and I are done," Teresa declared, her voice carrying confidence. "We're not getting back together, not even if you tried to marry me off to the town's team mascot."

Unbeknownst to her, her declaration reached Jonathan's ears. It wasn't until she turned to leave that she noticed her ex-husband's cold, hard stare. He'd heard every word she said.

The tension in the room was palpable, and Benny decided to make himself scarce. "I'll give you guys some space," he remarked, nodding as he slipped out the door.

Teresa remained poker-faced, her thoughts tucked away.

Jonathan fixed his gaze on Teresa, his eyes dead serious. "Wanted to make it clear, I'm not here for you," he declared, his voice as firm as his stare.

Teresa responded with a calm nod. "Loud and clear. Benny's playing matchmaker, but he's way off."

Jonathan's reply was a curt acknowledgment. "He's got no business butting in," he remarked, a tinge of irritation in his tone.

A playful smile touched Teresa's lips as she offered her congratulations. "Heard about your new venture. Congrats. I suppose I should be buttering you up a bit, shouldn't I, Mr. Lynn?"

Jonathan's throat bobbed as he swallowed, his voice clipped. "Thanks," he said, clearly not in the mood for small talk.

Teresa was just about to slide into her trusty white Porsche, which had seen better days but was still her go-to ride.

As she reached for the door handle, a sleek black Rolls-Royce Phantom rolled up, its golden emblem gleaming in the light.

Jonathan, lounging in the back seat, lowered the window and made his offer. "Get in. I'll see you home."

The gleaming Rolls-Royce stopped Teresa in her tracks, a memory of Jonathan's vow hitting her like a wave. "One day, I'll get you a Rolls-Royce. You're my wife, and you deserve the best," he had promised.

She shook off the nostalgia and replied, "I've got my own set of wheels, but thanks."

Jonathan's forehead creased, determination etched on his face. "We need to talk about the house. Get in."

Teresa hesitated for a moment before sinking into the car's opulent backseat, which could comfortably host a small gathering.

As she settled in, she cut to the chase. "So, what's this about the house?"

Once the driver raised the privacy partition, Jonathan got down to business. "The house in Luviston Estates—I transferred it to your name, right? It's been two years, and you've never even been there."

Teresa's eyes widened in surprise. "How did you know that?" she questioned, her skepticism evident in her tone.

Jonathan's brow furrowed, his voice tinged with bewilderment. "I've been footing the bills for that place, but the manager mentioned it's been empty."

Teresa interjected, her tone even. "I've got my own digs these days, and—"

He didn't let her finish, "And what?"

"And we're history," she replied crisply. "I'm not crashing in our old nest." She'd retreated to her family's legacy, an apartment in Rosary Estates, a gift from her grandparents, Bradley and Natalie Johnston.

A flicker of disappointment crossed Jonathan's eyes. "That house is leagues above those in Rosary Estates. More square footage. I figured you'd stick around there."

With a firm shake of her head, Teresa laid it out. "We hashed it out in the divorce. Yours is yours. I'm not hanging around in my ex's pad."

Jonathan took her in, her beauty still striking, her casual demeanor unchanged. A sardonic smile tugged at his lips as he said, "Well then, no sweat selling the place."

Teresa's nod was more out of habit than enthusiasm. "Do as you like," she drawled, her voice as lifeless as the car's suddenly frigid air.

Trying to crack the ice, Teresa propped her chin on her hand, her gaze fixed on Jonathan. "So, how's your mom been?"

All she got in return was a clipped "Fine," before Jonathan's eyes returned to the world whizzing by outside.

Braving the tension, Teresa delved into more delicate topics. "What about your ex? I gave you space, didn't I? Is she doing okay now with her depression?"

But her inquiry was cut short by Jonathan's piercing gaze. It was a silent but clear signal: the discussion was off-limits.

Teresa let her shoulders drop, her voice as relaxed as she could make it. "Just curious, that's all. We've moved on, so your love life is your own business now."

Jonathan dismissed her with a curt, "Drop it," and flipped open a magazine, effectively shutting down the conversation.

As the car rolled to a stop at the Rosary Estates entrance, Teresa, not wanting Jonathan to cross the threshold, was quick to offer her thanks. "Appreciate the lift," she said, hoping he'd take the hint.

With a teasing lift of his brow, Jonathan challenged, "No invite to come in?"

Teresa's eyes flickered with a moment's indecision. She wasn't sure if Miriam had brought Michael back yet.

4.Chapter 4 Intersections In The Workplace

Teresa was resolute about keeping Michael a secret from Jonathan. If he learned about their son, it would almost certainly lead to a bitter custody fight.

She took a steadying breath, her words measured. "Not necessary," she stated with a hint of finality.

Jonathan's grin twisted into something colder. "Got it. It's been two years since we split, and now I'm not even worthy of your airspace."

As Teresa tried to explain, her brow furrowed in frustration. "What are you getting at? I told Benny that because—"

"I'm not interested in the details," Jonathan interjected, his tone slicing through her words.

With a dismissive wave, Teresa put an end to the conversation. "Mr. Lynn, I'm not here to justify myself. I wish you all the success in the world, and let's just keep our distance, as per usual."

The words "keep our distance" hit Jonathan like a punch to the gut, resonating painfully on his first night back in Nareigh following their divorce.

"Loud and clear," Jonathan grated out, his voice tight with emotion. Then, without another glance back, he peeled out, his car leaving Teresa in a cloud of dust.

Teresa entered her silent home, the click of the light switch echoing as she discovered Michael wasn't there. Oddly, relief flooded her.

Her phone buzzed, and Miriam's voice came through the line. "Mike's out like a light. You're off the hook tonight; he's crashing at my place."

Teresa's voice was edged with suspicion. "Miriam, did you set this up?"

Miriam sounded genuinely affronted. "What? No way! I wasn't setting you up."

"But Jonathan was at the party," Teresa accused. "You told me he'd be a no-show, but there he was."

Miriam hesitated, her voice wavering. "Benny said Jonathan might swing by. I didn't think he'd actually make it..."

"Benny's way out of bounds, trying to play matchmaker with me and Jonathan. I don't get what he's after," Teresa grumbled.

Miriam's forehead creased, her voice tinged with disbelief. "You two can't work it out? Jonathan's got the world by the tail now."

Miriam paused, dropping her voice to a whisper. "And get this—Benny mentioned Jonathan's been flying solo for two years. Sounds to me like he's still got feelings for you."

The revelation floored Teresa. She'd been sure Jonathan would have reconnected with Yvonne. The idea of remarriage brought back the stalemate of their past and the fatigue that dragged them down. Just the thought of being with him again rubbed her the wrong way.

After what felt like an age of silence, Teresa finally broke the quiet, her tone resolute yet composed. "We're not rewriting history. We've taken different turns, and we're not on the same page anymore."

She continued, "Two years have passed, and that's the way it'll remain—we're like passing ships in the dark, not destined to tie up again."

Miriam let out a slow breath, her tone wrapping around Teresa in a hug of support. "All right, follow your heart. No matter what, I'm in your corner." Those words sparked a flicker of warmth in Teresa's chest.

Teresa left her son in Miriam's capable hands, grateful for the friend's more flexible calendar to cover the childcare while she tackled the demands of her media company gig.

Her role in operations offered some perks, but the pay? It was a tightrope walk to make ends meet.

Teresa was now realizing that even the most desirable jobs came with their own set of drawbacks. After two grueling years, Teresa was on the brink.

Managing her unpredictable boss and the constant struggle to make ends meet were wearing her down. Yet, she felt trapped. Quitting wasn't an option; she needed every cent to provide for her son.

Her parents, embarking on new family chapters, had made it clear that financial support was a thing of the past.

Once, on a whim, Teresa had said "I do" to Jonathan after a single passionate night—a leap her parents never backed.

When that marriage collapsed and motherhood found her, she kept it all under wraps. Fearful and indecisive, she didn't see the need to make a public announcement.

The quiet grew louder when, scrolling through social media, she discovered that her mother, Evelyn, at 46, had quietly welcomed a new baby girl with her new husband, Charlie Wilson—a month-old surprise that was the talk of the town.

Her ties with her biological father had also faded into the background as they each embarked on new family sagas, leaving Teresa feeling like the odd one out. Yet, in the solitude of night, she often found herself aching for the solace that only her mom could offer.

Wayne Kotler, director of the operations team, announced loudly across the office. "Morning meeting, Ops team!" The call was greeted with a series of tired groans from the staff.

Teresa snapped out of her daze, adding her own sigh to the mix. Ever since the sun peeked over the horizon, she'd been on the company's clock. The badge dangling from her neck felt more like a leash than an ID.

"Rumor has it, Horizonlead Group's CEO, Mr. Jonathan Lynn, is the slipperiest interview in town," Wayne mentioned.

He waved a folder in the air. "Here's everything we've got on him. Check it out, team."

As the team pored over the documents, he added, "Landing an interview with Jonathan would be a major coup."

Then, Jonathan's face flashed on the screen, commanding the room's focus and drawing a wave of awe.

His sharp features and commanding aura shattered the mundane morning atmosphere.

Teresa sat there, speechless. She inwardly rolled her eyes, thinking, 'Why on earth is Jonathan the highlight of our morning huddle?'

"Teresa!" Wayne's voice echoed through the office.

She raised her hand in response. "Here!" Teresa confirmed.

His bald spot reflected the fluorescent lights as he tossed a folder towards her. "Dig into the Horizonlead Group details in there. After our meeting, I want you to call Jonathan's secretary and see if we can snag an interview," Wayne commanded.

Teresa's eyebrows shot up. "Why pick me?"

"Your voice is like music to the ears. You're our secret weapon," Wayne complimented.

A rough cough escaped Teresa. "Mr. Kotler, I'm fighting a cold. My voice is shot—croaky as can be. Can't someone else take this one? I'm not even close to a hundred percent," she argued.

"Just a quick call. And if you pull this off, there's a nice raise waiting for you," Wayne dangled the carrot, wrapping up the meeting. He then turned on his heel and left, leaving Teresa to weigh her options.

The office was alive with sideways glances at Teresa—a blend of envy for her melodic voice and striking looks, and sympathy for the high-stakes task that could cost her her job if she failed.

Teresa's stomach was a mess of knots. It had been a silent two years since she last spoke to Jonathan, and she'd been dead set on it being over just last night.

Calling him felt like admitting defeat, and she wasn't ready to face Jonathan or eat crow.

"Sherry, would you mind making this call for me? I'd be forever grateful," Teresa asked, her voice tinged with hope. "Dinner's on me."

Sherry Roth offered a comforting pat on Teresa's shoulder. "Don't stress. The Horizonlead Group's CEO is a phantom when it comes to interviews. You can't even get past his secretary."

Teresa's brow lifted skeptically. "No way."

Sherry shrugged. "Take my word for it, or give it a shot. His line is always quiet—the CEO is colder than an iceberg."

Teresa's finger hovered over the dial pad, her brow furrowed with uncertainty as she initiated the call to Horizonlead Group's secretary's office from her work phone.

The sound of a busy signal echoed through the phone. Teresa breathed a sigh of relief; the call hadn't connected after all.

"Hello?" a familiar voice, one that sent a jolt down her spine, responded.

5.Chapter 5 Her Son Fell Ill

Her heart leaped, and she whispered a curse to herself. 'I dialed the secretary's extension; why is the CEO answering?' she thought in confusion.

"Hello?" Jonathan's voice repeated, a calm and patient tone ringing through.

Teresa quickly adopted a goofy, nasally voice, pretending confusion. "Oops, is this Horizonlead Group? I might've messed up the number."

Jonathan let out a light laugh. "Seems you've got the wrong number, ex-wife."

Caught off guard by Jonathan's instant recognition of her voice, Teresa stumbled for a moment before regaining her composure.

Jonathan's impatience was palpable as he cut in. "If you have something to say, just say it. No need for the dramatics."

Taking a steadying breath, Teresa got straight to the point. "NewEdge Media is interested in your successful career," she told Jonathan, her tone edged with both irritation and resolve. "We'd like to do a short interview. Are you available anytime soon?"

Jonathan was blunt and to the point. "No time," he replied, his tone sharp.

Teresa's shoulders slumped, but she nodded in resignation. "Got it loud and clear. I won't waste any more of your precious time."

A slight smile tugged at Jonathan's lips as he pressed on. "Not considering giving it a shot, even for old time's sake?"

Teresa's jaw tightened, her voice strained but firm. "You've made your point. I won't bother you anymore. Have a great day," she managed to say, her politeness barely concealing her frustration.

The phone slammed down, the sound echoing in the now silent room.

Sherry, who'd been watching the exchange with wide eyes, turned to Teresa. "Wow, that was something else. That wasn't Jonathan on the phone, was it?"

Teresa let out a sigh, shaking her head. "Jonathan picked up the phone himself," she remarked.

Sherry's eyes popped wide, her jaw nearly hitting the floor. "No way! Jonathan himself? That's a first!"

Teresa's brow furrowed, her luck feeling more like a curse than a blessing. "He said he's too swamped for an interview," she relayed to Wayne, her tone as flat as her hopes.

Wayne's astonishment was palpable, his mouth gaping open. "He took your call personally?" he echoed, his voice a blend of shock and curiosity.

Teresa nodded, her voice firm but resigned. "That's what he said. Too much on his plate."

Despite the setback, Wayne remained optimistic. "Well, the fact that he answered at all is promising," he insisted, a spark of optimism in his eyes. "Maybe you didn't quite hit the mark last time. Try again, but this time, turn on the charm."

Teresa bit her lip, her skepticism as clear as day. "I'm not sure it'll make a difference. He was pretty firm about being busy."

Wayne's smile was gentle, yet persistent. "It's worth another shot, Teresa. Dial it up a notch," he advised, offering a small smile to soften his critique.

Sinking into her chair, Teresa let out a quiet sigh. 'Money doesn't fall from the sky; it's a brutal scramble,' she thought to herself.

On her second try, when Jonathan answered, there was a tinge of scorn in his voice. "What now, ex?" he queried, his tone clipped.

Her jaw clenched, Teresa bit back the retort that sprang to her lips. She had to stay cool, for her job and her kid's sake. "Mr. Lynn, I'm reaching out about the interview... hoping you might see your way to giving it another thought..."

Jonathan's laughter was a razor's edge. "You're gonna need a better pitch than that."

Despite her waning patience, Teresa maintained her composure.

"Fine, if you're not into it, no sweat. We can call off the interview," he remarked, his tone casual.

She took a deep breath, her resolve steeling. "Mr. Lynn, I'm humbly asking you to give our interview a chance." Her words were laced with sincerity.

Amidst the distant laughter and hushed murmurs, Jonathan's voice stood out. "Can't chat now. I'm in the middle of something. Hit me up with the details later."

The call ended abruptly, leaving Teresa with the lonely hum of a disconnected line.

Teresa's fingers danced across the company's WhatsApp account, her gaze fixed on the screen. She shot off a message to Jonathan, her ex-husband, a man she'd consigned to the digital abyss for years.

With a decisive tap, she sent the formal message and let her phone thud onto the desk.

The phone vibrated with a prompt reply from Jonathan, his confusion crackling through the screen. [Why the company account? Why not just text me?]

Teresa huffed, her fingers flying across the keyboard. [This is for official client communication.]

His response was as quick as it was bossy. [Use your personal number next time.]

She let out a world-weary sigh, the irony of her situation sinking in. 'Of all people, I'm now at the mercy of my ex for work,' she mused, a bitter smile tugging at her lips. The roles had definitely reversed.

Determined to keep things on track, Teresa typed, [Let's focus on work. We have things to discuss.]

Jonathan's reply was a mix of bewilderment and resistance. [How do you propose we discuss work? In person? We agreed to keep our distance, remember?]

Teresa was no stranger to hard knocks. She was living proof that life could be a real grind, especially when the paychecks barely covered the bills.

[Let's meet up after work.] Teresa turned her phone face down after sending the reply, signaling the conversation was over.

As the workday wrapped up, her phone buzzed with a call from Miriam. Miriam's voice was tense as she told Teresa that Michael was sick with a fever, and they were at the children's hospital.

Teresa's heart leaped into her throat. "I'm on my way," she said, her voice tense with worry.

Rushing to the hospital, Teresa found Miriam by Michael's side as he was getting an IV. Without missing a beat, Teresa dove into the chaos, tackling bills, wading through hospital lines, and dashing around the building, her exhaustion growing with each task.

Seeing that Miriam needed to get back to her own life, Teresa gently suggested she head home. Balancing her thanks with a firm decision, Teresa told Miriam not to worry, promising she'd stay with Michael.

The vibration of her phone jolted Teresa from her thoughts. She cleared her throat, the lingering effects of a cold making her voice sound husky. "Hello?" she rasped.

There was a brief silence on the other end of the line before Jonathan's voice filled her ear. "Are you okay?"

Teresa sniffled, her lack of enthusiasm evident. "Yeah. What's up?"

His next question caught her off guard. "Didn't we have a meeting planned after work? Where are we gonna meet?"

Teresa frowned, her frustration clear. "Let's push it to another day. I'm swamped with stuff." She was juggling too much, including looking after Michael, and Jonathan just didn't fit into her schedule.

His tone sharpened, a hint of anger creeping in. "Teresa, are you messing with me? You think I'm just sitting around, still in love with you?"

The line went dead before she could utter a word.

A bitter smile played on Teresa's lips as she put the phone down, her heart weighed down by memories.

She recalled the night before their divorce when she'd let alcohol loose her tongue and spoken words that she regretted. Soon after, he'd declared their love was gone and ended it all.

*****

The first light of morning snuck in through the blinds, ending Teresa's restless vigil over her little one.

As the sun rose, she woke with a start, and Michael, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, soon joined her, clutching her hand and calling out softly, "Mommy."

With a tender touch, Teresa pressed her palm to his forehead, her features relaxing as she felt the coolness of his skin. "You must be starving, kiddo," she said gently.

Michael's head bobbed up and down with enthusiasm.

With a warm smile, Teresa set a bowl of gruel in front of him. "Here's your breakfast, just some simple gruel."

Michael's face fell, his little brow furrowing. "Why do I have to eat plain gruel? I'm already sick."

Teresa let out a laugh, tousling his hair affectionately. "It's the best thing for you right now, buddy. But listen, as soon as you're on the mend, we're gonna have a feast. Your pick: steak, lobster, or pizza."

Michael's eyes widened at the promise of a big meal. He swallowed hard, the taste of steak and the thought of pizza making the gruel a little more bearable as he took a small, imaginative bite.

Michael, his eyes pleading, pulled on Teresa's sleeve. "Mommy, can we go home? I don't like it here," he whispered, his voice shaky.

Teresa leaned in, her touch soft and reassuring on his back. "We'll go home as soon as you eat your meal," she said, her tone gentle. "The doctor will check on you, and if you're all set, we're gone. Promise."

The pediatric ward was abuzz with families dealing with the mycoplasma virus, which had been sweeping through and leaving kids with sniffles and fevers.

After getting the doctor's approval, Teresa helped Michael into his coat, then lifted him into her arms.

As they walked towards the car, he looked up at her. "You should find me a dad, Mommy. You won't be able to carry me when I get big," he reasoned.

Teresa buckled Michael into his car seat with a grin. "I'll always be able to carry you, no matter how big," she assured him, pinching his nose playfully.

Michael, his eyes bright with the simplicity of childhood, asked again, "When I'm ten, can you still carry me?"

Candice returned his gaze with a tender smile. "Of course, sweetheart," she promised.

Not satisfied, Michael pressed on, "And when I'm twenty?"

"Definitely," Teresa affirmed, her smile never fading.

With each question, Michael's voice grew more excited. "What about when I'm a hundred? Two hundred?"

Teresa chimed in with a chuckle, "I'll always be able to carry you, no matter how old you get," she said, choosing to ignore the statistical improbability of such longevity.

After they'd returned home and Michael was comfortably settled, Teresa pulled out her phone and typed a message to Jonathan. [Hey, sorry I had to bail on our meeting today. Can we try for tomorrow?]

Her phone sat unanswered, with no reply from Jonathan.

With a sigh, Teresa typed out another message, her desperation clear. [Mr. Lynn, please consider our interview request. We really value your input.]

She stared at her phone, willing a response to appear, but it remained stubbornly silent.

A flicker of irritation ran through Teresa as she thought of Jonathan, who was well-known for holding grudges.

The next day, she crept into the office, trying to stay under the radar. She'd skipped the formalities of requesting time off yesterday and had left Jonathan hanging, which had her nerves on edge.

Her heart sank when Wayne, with his distinctive waddle, headed her way. She braced for impact, anticipating a scolding or worse.

Instead, Wayne's laughter echoed through the office as he approached, clapping his hands together. "Teresa, you're a rock star! The operations team can't function without you!" He flashed a thumbs-up, his unexpected cheeriness leaving her speechless.

Teresa's brow furrowed in confusion. 'What's going on?' she thought to herself, the praise catching her completely off guard.

6.Chapter 6 I'm Engaged

Wayne's laughter echoed through the room, a grin plastered on his face. "Teresa, you won't believe this, but Jonathan gave us the go-ahead for the interview."

Teresa's face showed her surprise as she tried to make sense of the situation.

He patted her shoulder, his excitement palpable. "You nailed it, Teresa! You're on fire!"

But Teresa's voice was tinged with skepticism. "Seriously, Jonathan himself said yes?"

"Sure," Wayne confirmed. "Mr. Lynn's waiting in the meeting room and specifically requested you. Maybe your voice left an impression, and now he's curious about the person behind it. Luckily, you're stunning. We're counting on you to make the operations team proud."

Interviews weren't Teresa's usual gig, but Wayne dropped the news: if the interview went well, there was a $3,000 bonus waiting by month's end. Hard to say no to that—a short interview for a nice payoff.

Papers in hand, Teresa strode into the office, the door creaking open to show Jonathan already seated.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Lynn," she offered, all business.

"Ms. Johnston," Jonathan greeted back, a casual tilt of his head and a teasing sparkle in his eyes.

For a beat, she found herself admiring his charisma and good looks—he was undoubtedly the most attractive man she'd ever encountered.

The cameraman's cough brought her back to the present. She'd almost been caught staring, which was unprofessional, and she knew it.

Sitting down next to Jonathan on the sofa, Teresa got straight to the point. "Thanks for fitting us into your day, Mr. Lynn. We'll keep this quick and to the point, just a few questions to make the most of our time."

Jonathan leaned back in his chair, legs crossed, the epitome of relaxed confidence. He hummed thoughtfully, his gaze never leaving Teresa.

Teresa referred to her notes, her questions prepared and orderly. "Mr. Lynn, what prompted you to agree to this interview with us?" she asked, her voice steady and professional.

Jonathan's eyes narrowed as he looked at Teresa. "To be honest, I was just bored," he admitted.

Teresa's lips tightened, silently confirming her suspicion that he was here out of boredom. His tone made it clear he was still bitter about being left hanging the day before.

She let it slide and continued with her next question. "What inspired you to start your own company?" she inquired, her focus sharp.

Holding her gaze, Jonathan spoke calmly and deliberately. "It's because someone showed me that a guy needs serious cash to feel confident talking to her."

Teresa looked impressed as she studied Jonathan's confident stance. "You seem pretty on top of things, Mr. Lynn, especially for being Nareigh's youngest billionaire," she said, a note of respect in her voice.

Jonathan just shrugged off the praise. "There's always more to do," he replied, his eyes locked onto hers.

Curious, Teresa leaned forward. "It sounds like you've got big plans for the company," she observed.

Jonathan confirmed this with a simple nod.

Teresa smoothly changed the subject, her voice taking on a softer edge. "Everyone's aware your mom raised you. What are her thoughts on your career?" she inquired.

Jonathan relaxed into his seat, a smile of appreciation on his face. "She supports me, but stays out of my work," he mentioned.

Teresa couldn't help but be skeptical. 'She stays out of your work, but what about the personal life?' she thought, rolling her eyes internally, especially when it came to Jonathan's mother.

She was thankful that the divorce had put an end to the old resentments and petty arguments.

Flipping through her notes, Teresa got down to the last question, her tone all business. "One last question: Are you dating anyone?"

Jonathan's gaze was intense, scrutinizing Teresa for any sign of a reaction.

Teresa maintained a poker face, her expression giving nothing away.

Jonathan's demeanor turned serious, and he announced deliberately, "I'm engaged, actually."

7.Chapter 7 You Don't Love Me

The words fell like a pebble into still waters, rippling with quiet impact and a sense of astonishment that spread across the room.

Her eyes widened for a moment, but she quickly composed herself, a smile playing on her lips. "That's huge. Congratulations, Mr. Lynn. I wish you and your fiancée all the best."

Jonathan stayed quiet, his mouth set in a thin line.

With the interview over, Teresa stood and offered her hand. "Thanks for coming in today, Mr. Lynn."

He shook her hand, his gaze averted, and then he was gone.

Back in her office, Teresa couldn't help but dwell on the fact that he was engaged.

Wayne was visibly frustrated. "Come on, Teresa! You should have kept at it and found out who his fiancée is. That's the kind of scoop we're after."

Teresa was somewhere else, her mind racing with the revelation. She scoffed to herself. 'Bet his fiancée is his ex, the girl of his dreams.'

"Did you see? The CEO of Horizonlead Group is totally hot and tall, like six-three for sure," a coworker exclaimed.

"He's the kind of guy who could make any girl feel protected," one of the coworkers gushed.

"Totally," another chimed in. "But let's not get too carried away. He's already off the market, engaged to a beauty queen. It's like something out of a fairy tale."

The buzz around the office was all about the Horizonlead Group CEO. Teresa usually would have been all over this conversation, but today she was lost in her own world.

Her coworker had to call her name twice to get her attention. "Teresa, time to head out," she said, and Teresa finally surfaced from her thoughts, nodding and slowly gathering her belongings.

She had to face the reality that her chances with Jonathan were gone, and she couldn't even bring up her son's issues with him.

Michael was still grappling with a lingering cold, and Teresa was busy at the hospital, picking up medicine for her son.

The cashier rang up the total. "That'll be $130."

Teresa, already reaching for her phone, replied, "I'll take care of it with PayPal."

Teresa's phone buzzed with a payment notification, and she checked her bank balance, which almost hit zero. She sighed, the reality of parenting hitting her hard—how money just seemed to slip away. And now, her car was on fumes.

At the gas station, she faced a tough choice. Her car needed the higher-grade 95 octane, but with her budget stretched thin, she went for the cheaper 92 instead.

"Ma'am, you sure? Your car really requires 95," the attendant warned her.

Teresa, feeling a bit embarrassed, replied, "Yeah, 92 is fine. It'll be okay."

"Alright," the attendant said, giving a nonchalant nod.

Once the refueling was complete, Teresa fired up the engine, ready to brave the rush-hour traffic.

As she drove, the car began to grumble, a low, ominous sound. Sensing something was off, Teresa pulled over and tried restarting the car. The rumble persisted, and a strong, oily odor filled the car's interior.

Her heart sank. She quickly got out of the car, her day going from bad to worse. The car was definitely broken down. She couldn't help but think, 'Is there any more bad luck in store for me today?'

Teresa was engaged in a one-sided chat with her car, coaxing it gently. "Easy, buddy. Economy mode today, on a budget," she whispered, patting the dashboard reassuringly. "No worries about the 92 octane, okay?"

Scanning the street for a potential ride, she spotted a pair of headlights that seemed like a lifeline. Her face lit up with hope as she squinted against the glare and waved her arms, signaling for help.

But her hope was short-lived. As the driver emerged, his sharp suit and confident walk were all too familiar. Her smile faded the moment she realized who it was.

Jonathan, with a casual swagger, approached with his hands tucked into his pockets. "Looks like you need some help," he said, his tone light but his gaze serious.

Teresa's lips tightened. "I've got it under control," she insisted, trying to sound more confident than she felt.

Jonathan's eyes swept over her car, and he raised an eyebrow. "Car giving you trouble?"

Playing it off with a nonchalant shrug, Teresa insisted she was just here grabbing some fresh air.

But her white Porsche had other ideas, its engine growling ominously the moment she spoke.

Jonathan's laughter was cold and devoid of humor as he motioned for her to step back. "Move over," he instructed.

Teresa could only watch as Jonathan's usually clean hand plunged into the engine, quickly turning into a mess of dirty oil.

With a resounding slam, he shut the hood, his expression now grave. "Teresa," he called out, his voice sharp, drawing her gaze.

She raised an eyebrow at him, curiosity in her eyes. "Yeah?"

"How'd you let this happen? Your car's engine is a wreck. Do you even bother to maintain it?" His words were laced with skepticism and a hint of scolding.

Guilt tugged at Teresa, but she wasn't about to admit to cutting corners on gas. Instead, she offered a partial truth, her voice barely audible. "I've been putting off the service for over two years now."

Jonathan's brow furrowed with a blend of worry and disapproval. "Teresa, you've let this car slide since we split. I used to handle the upkeep, but now it's all on you," he remarked, a subtle note of chiding in his tone.

Teresa's fingers twitched, a sign of her irritation, as she retorted, "I'm well aware, Jonathan." It wasn't that she was neglecting the car; it was the constant battle between work and motherhood that left her barely breathing.

As soon as the child showed signs of a cold, she'd abandon all other tasks and hurry to his side. Motherhood had truly taught her the exhausting reality of raising a child.

She had already sold off two cars, and now she was down to her last one—which unfortunately just broke down.

Jonathan didn't miss the dejection etched on Teresa's face. With a furrowed brow, he spoke with a tone that brooked no argument, "Looks like you're in my car for the time being. Yours is out of commission. I'll get a tow truck on the way."

Teresa sighed, a sound of surrender, and slid into Jonathan's car without a word.

As they pulled away, Teresa leaned her forehead against her wrist, a forlorn gaze fixed on her faithful white car, now abandoned by the roadside with its hazard lights flickering. Her companion for over five years was left behind.

With a curious sidelong look at her, Jonathan asked, "Rosary Estates is quite a diversion from Riverbuss Road. What took you out there?"

Evading his eyes, Teresa spoke softly, "I caught a cold and needed to stop by the hospital."

Jonathan's concern was evident as he studied her closely. "A cold?" he echoed, his voice filled with worry.

Teresa tried to play it cool. "Drop me off anywhere close. I'll manage the rest on foot," she told Jonathan, her voice betraying a hint of the awkwardness she felt about the ride.

The intermittent streetlight bathed Jonathan's face in a flickering yellow light. He caught Teresa off guard when he reached over and gently wiped her cheek, causing her to flinch.

"No need to be so jumpy," Jonathan said with a teasing grin. "You had a smudge."

Teresa straightened up, a note of caution in her voice. "Just thinking about your fiancée. Wouldn't want her to get the wrong idea seeing us together."

Jonathan's silence was heavy, his face a mystery. When they passed a pharmacy, he had the driver stop. He quickly went in and came back with a bag for Teresa. "It's getting cold. Stay warm. You're always catching colds."

The bag contained the familiar medicines Jonathan had always picked up for her, along with a heating pad and a thermometer—reminders of a shared past.

Teresa's words to Jonathan were laced with a hint of resentment. "You're still playing the field, even though Yvonne's in the picture now?"

Jonathan's surprise was evident as he raised an eyebrow. "Yvonne?"

With a determined set to her jaw, Teresa continued, "That's her name, isn't it? She was your ex, now she's set to be your wife. That's the plan, isn't it?"

Speaking Yvonne's name stirred up a whirlwind of emotions for Teresa, as the woman had been central to the downfall of her own marriage to Jonathan.

Yvonne's frequent depressive episodes had been a tool she used to justify her behavior, often stepping over the line of what was morally acceptable.

Jonathan avoided addressing Teresa's points directly. Instead, he fixed his gaze on her, his eyes searching. "Aren't you even slightly jealous, Teresa?"

Teresa's lips quirked in a mix of a smirk and a frown. "Jealous? Why would I have any reason to be?"

Jonathan's hand clenched into a fist at his side, his voice strained as he spoke. "Right. You don't love me, not anymore."

Teresa was quiet, a profound understanding enveloping their interaction. They both harbored the heaviness of bygone days. Love had become insignificant amidst their current reality. Reconciliation was no longer a viable option for them.

Pulling up to Rosary Estates, Jonathan's car came to a halt, and Teresa was quick to reach for the door handle, her eagerness to escape the awkwardness palpable.

Jonathan noticed her urgency to leave with a mix of old memories and a curious gaze, as if she had somewhere important to be. He let out a deep breath. "Take care of yourself. We're through here. I won't be around to look out for you anymore."

Teresa offered a solemn nod, her tone a blend of resignation and affection. "You too, Jonathan. I hope things work out with your fiancée." With that, she stepped out of the car, her eyes straight ahead.

The scene was a stark reminder of their past, a mirror image of the day they'd walked away from the courthouse, each moving forward without a glance back.

Teresa tiptoed into her home, the quiet only broken by her son Michael's gentle snores.

She felt a pang of guilt for leaving him alone, but with finances stretched thin, hiring a babysitter wasn't an option. She shook her head, wondering how things had gotten so tough.

Bending over Michael's bed, she smoothed back his hair and whispered, "I'm sorry I don't make much money, buddy," her voice thick with emotion.

Michael's features mirrored his father's, a man Teresa was determined to keep out of their lives.

He was moving on, starting a new family, and she was set on making sure Michael wouldn't be caught in the middle. She'd be his rock.

"Sweet dreams, my angel," she murmured, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

Her car, now a goner, had been towed to the junkyard, leaving her without her usual mode of transportation. So, with a sense of unfamiliarity, Teresa headed to the subway for her first-ever commute to the office.

The journey to her office was a quiet one, filled with memories of a life that had once been filled with luxury but now seemed a distant dream.

She used to zip around in a top-of-the-line car, enjoying the good life. But reality had set in hard; she'd always known she'd be on her own, especially with her parents moving on to new families.

Following her parents' remarriage, she sensed herself as the unwanted outsider, the excess baggage. As an adult, she resolved to forge her own way and launch her own venture.

Arriving at work, she was greeted by a notification on her phone about an upcoming property fee. The looming heating bill in a couple of months added to her financial worries, making it seem like her money was just slipping away.

When she checked her phone for her account balance, she found it had dwindled to a scant thousand dollars, deepening her concern about how to manage her finances.

The office hummed with the news, "Teresa, payday's here!"

But instead of joy, Teresa felt a sinking feeling as she stared at her slimmed-down paycheck—only $2,500 this time, down from $2,800 the month before.

Sherry, the pragmatic one among them, gave Teresa a comforting pat. "You've been missing a bunch of days and showing up late. That's hit your attendance bonus," she explained.

Teresa blushed, thinking of her little Michael, who was too young for daycare and too much for a nanny. She couldn't keep leaning on her friend for childcare.

Her new normal had become working just three days and taking four off, a pattern that was wearing thin.

She'd reached a breaking point. Her paycheck barely covered her own needs, let alone Michael's. It was time for a change. The thought of starting her own business started to sprout in her mind, a determined seed taking root.

As the workday wrapped up, Teresa paused, her fingers hovering over her phone before she dialed a number she hadn't used in what felt like forever. "Hey, Mommy," she said, her voice cracking slightly.

"Teresa?" her mom, Evelyn, answered, the surprise in her tone unmistakable.

Teresa's eyes glistened with unshed tears as she tried to speak, "Mommy, I'm wondering—" But her words were cut short by the piercing wail of a child in the background.

8.Chapter 8 I Have A New Family

Evelyn's voice came through the phone, soft and comforting. "Shh, shh, it's okay, sweetheart. No need to cry."

Teresa's hand clenched her phone tighter, a sinking feeling in her chest.

The line was silent for a beat before Evelyn's hesitant voice broke the quiet. "Teresa, is everything alright? I thought we'd agreed that you wouldn't contact me after you got married."

"Mommy, Jonathan and I have been divorced for a while now," Teresa replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

"What?" Evelyn gasped, the shock in her voice echoing through the phone.

Teresa inhaled unevenly, her eyes brimming with emotion as she said into the phone, "Mommy, could we possibly meet after my shift ends?"

There was a pause before Evelyn responded. "You can come by my place."

"Got it," Teresa said, her emotions in a tangle as she hung up. She made a quick stop at the mall before heading to her mom's.

The butler guided her to an opulent villa nestled in the upscale district, a stark contrast to the modest home of her childhood. The mansion boasted a butler and housekeeping staff, and its interior was nothing short of palatial.

Inside, her mom, Evelyn, was gently rocking a little girl, trying to calm her down. The child was even smaller than Teresa's son, Michael, with delicate skin and a hair clip that caught the light.

Teresa's gaze moved to Evelyn, who was dressed to the nines in glittering jewelry, looking like she'd just had a day at the spa.

Evelyn gave a lackluster smile and gestured towards a chair. "Sit down," she said, her tone as chilly as the marble underfoot.

"What's my sister's name?" Teresa asked, her tone calm amidst the palpable tension.

Evelyn faltered for a moment before replying, "Isabel Wilson. My husband was the one who named her."

Teresa's mouth tightened, and she fell silent, her hand quietly slipping into her pocket where she nervously crumpled a piece of fabric.

The maid subtly offered a cup of coffee, the rising steam and its aroma briefly softening the room's tension.

Evelyn's eyes narrowed as she probed, "So, Teresa, what brings you here?" Her clipped tone spoke volumes of the distance that had grown between them.

Teresa got straight to the point, saying, "Mommy, I've decided to quit my job and start my own business. I was wondering if you could help me out financially—thirty thousand would cover it."

Evelyn's expression turned to stone. "I won't give you a penny. I made it clear when you got married, my duty to you was fulfilled. I have a new family now, and my responsibilities lie with them."

Holding Evelyn's gaze, Teresa said with conviction, "I understand, and that's why it's a loan. I swear I'll pay you back, every single cent."

Evelyn shook her head, determination in her voice. "You should have a chat with your dad. I mean, he's not exactly hurting for money, and he can't just pretend you don't exist, right?"

Teresa let out a heavy sigh, her shoulders sagging. "After I married Jonathan, things weren't the same with Dad. He disapproved of him and had always hoped I'd marry a wealthy playboy, which wasn't for me.

"It really bothered him. When I decided to start my business, I knew I couldn't count on his support, so I turned to you."

Evelyn paused, a nonchalant shrug escaping her. "Look, you're in your mid-twenties now. You're an adult. You've got to make your own decisions." Her voice rose, and the baby in her arms picked up on the tension, letting out a cry.

Evelyn's eyes softened as she cradled and rocked Isabel. "Shh, it's okay," she soothed. Her affection was a stark contrast to the coldness Teresa felt from her own family.

Teresa's heart had grown immune to the lack of love from her parents. The pain had faded, replaced by a numb acceptance. She'd learned to live without it.

Teresa stood up, her voice barely audible as she spoke with a quiet resolve. "Got it. I'm leaving, won't bug you anymore." She blinked back tears, her eyes shimmering with the effort.

Evelyn, her confusion clear, reached out to stop her. "Hold on. What went wrong with you and Jonathan? You were so keen on getting married."

Teresa didn't turn to face Evelyn, just brushed away a tear with a blank look. "We couldn't make it work, so we called it quits."

Evelyn's frown deepened, her voice edged with criticism. "Is it because you're always losing your temper? You're not a kid, Teresa. If you want someone to spend their life with you, you need to work on your attitude."

With a bitter smile, Teresa finally turned to Evelyn, her gaze a mix of sadness and challenge. "You're in no position to lecture me about marriage. Yours is a disaster, and yet here you are, dishing out advice on mine."

"You— Get out!" Evelyn snapped, her voice sharp with anger.

Without a backward glance, Teresa marched out of the villa, the star pendant she'd bought for her half-sister jingling in her pocket.

She'd chosen it at the mall, figuring it was a thoughtful gift despite its modest price tag of about 1,000 dollars. Ultimately, she chose not to give the gift, unsure if Evelyn would appreciate its simplicity.

Feeling the pinch of being a parent and needing to be more fiscally prudent, Teresa made up her mind to return the pendant. Resolved, she headed back to the mall.

Inside the store, the sales associate was captivated by Teresa's striking looks—her expressive eyes, prominent nose bridge, and an allure that was undeniable.

"Normally, I don't do this, but for a looker like you, I'll bend the rules," he flirted, grinning as he processed the return.

Teresa's gratitude was heartfelt, her tone steady. There was a sense of relief, not tears, as she watched the money from the pendant get refunded to her account.

Teresa left the mall and bagged up Michael's favorite grub when her phone vibrated with a message from Evelyn. She glanced down to see a transfer of $15,000 and a note that this was the last time Evelyn would be sending her any money.

Evelyn: [Here's $15,000. For the rest, talk to your dad. I won't be providing any more funds. I'm content with my life, I cherish my husband, and I'm devoted to Isabel. Please, no more contact.]

[I don't need it,] Teresa replied, her fingers flying over the screen as she rejected the transfer.

Evelyn's reply was as cold as ice. [Take the money and let's call it quits on our whole mother-daughter thing.]

Teresa kept it simple and respectful in her response. [Got it, Ms. Davis. I hope your family's happy.]

But Evelyn wasn't done. A voice call came through, her voice laced with anger. "Teresa, what's with the attitude? You come begging for money, and now you're too good for it?"

Teresa's voice was steady as she replied, "I'm not being sarcastic here. It was wrong of me to ask. I promise I'm out of your life for good."

Evelyn was in the middle of a conversation when the baby's cries interrupted. Teresa, on the line, could hear the baby's sobs and Evelyn's soft, calming voice.

"Sweetheart, it's okay," Evelyn crooned. "Don't cry, baby, Mommy's right here."

As Teresa listened, a pang shot through her. She'd faced hardships—financial woes, a car wreck, her divorce—but this was different. The sound of Evelyn's nurturing words was her undoing.

Her hand shook as she hung up. The tears she'd held back spilled over. Her mom's tenderness was for someone else now, leaving Teresa to face her solitude alone.

Teresa, her face wet with tears, sat on the mall's steps, trying to compose herself amidst the gathering gloom. As a new mom, she knew she had to be strong, but for now, she allowed herself this brief moment to cry.

Jonathan, in a black Rolls-Royce, his face a stoic mask as he reviewed some documents, suddenly spotted something that prompted him to sharply tell the driver, "Stop the car!"

The car came to a halt, and the driver remained silent, waiting for further instructions.

From the back seat of his car, Jonathan watched Teresa crying across the street, his brow furrowed with worry. He had not anticipated encountering her in such distress on his way home from a business meeting.

Jonathan couldn't believe his eyes. Teresa, always the picture of grace and resilience, was now a mess, sitting on the steps outside the mall, her tears on full display for everyone to see.

His driver interrupted his thoughts. "Mr. Lynn, are you stepping out?"

Paying no mind to the question, Jonathan kept his eyes on Teresa, clearly upset. After a brief pause, he picked up his phone and dialed a number.