He Bought a Villa With His New Girlfriend — Then Froze Seeing His Pregnant Ex…
A pregnant woman alone was picking out her baby’s leette when she found her ex-husband with his new girlfriend. And what happened next was the last thing anyone expected. The real estate agency’s air conditioning blew a cool relief against the persistent heat of that Tuesday morning. Ryan adjusted the collar of his designer shirt, a nervous gesture that did not go unnoticed by Chelsea, who slid her hand down his arm, a touch that was both possessive and reassuring.
Her heels clicked on the polished porcelain floor, a sharp sound that seemed to herald the arrival of a new chapter. For Ryan, that’s exactly what it was. A new beginning, a grand, expensive beginning in a mansion that would scream to the world that he had overcome his past and won. “This is it, my love,” he said, forcing a confident smile.
“This is where we’ll find our mansion.” Chelsea, 25 years of pure exuberance and ambition, smiled back, her eyes sparkling at the prospect of swimming pools, gigantic walk-in wardrobes, and breakfasts on balconies with panoramic views. She was the opposite of everything he had before. Where there was silence, Chelsea was loud music. Where there was routine, she was spontaneity.
Where there was Elellanena, well, now there was Chelsea. And that, for Ryan, was what mattered. Finally, she exclaimed, squeezing his arm. She couldn’t stand his apartment anymore. It felt so temporary. We need space, a place to build our lives. The emphasis on our was deliberate, a way of marking her territory.
The receptionist, a young woman with a rehearsed smile, pointed to a dark glass door at the end of the hall. The senior agent will see you now. Just go in. She’s waiting for you. Ryan felt a pang of pride. Senior agent. He liked that. It showed he wasn’t there for games, for looking at two-bedroom apartments.
He wanted the best, the top of the real estate pyramid, and he made sure everyone knew it. He opened the door with a sweeping, almost theatrical gesture, allowing Chelsea to enter first. The room was elegant and minimalist. A large dark wood table dominated the center with two designer chairs for clients and one imposing with its back to the window which flooded the room with light.
Sitting in it, a woman was organizing some papers, her head slightly bowed. The light streaming in from behind created a silhouette, a contour that for an instant seemed strangely familiar to Ryan. A shiver ran down his spine, a sudden and inexplicable premonition, like the memory of a forgotten dream. “Good morning,” Chelsea said, her voice full of expectation.
“We have an appointment. We’re looking for a house to start over.” The woman in the chair moved. She turned slowly, and the world of Ryan, which he had so painstakingly rebuilt over the last 8 months, unraveled. No, it didn’t unravel. It froze. The air became thick, heavy, impossible to breathe.
The sound of Chelsea’s heels, the hum of the air conditioner, the very pulse in his ears, everything vanished. Behind the desk wasn’t a stranger. It wasn’t just any senior agent. It was Elellanena, his Elellanena, his ex-wife. The initial shock was like a blow to the stomach, stealing his breath. Her eyes, those same hazel eyes he knew so well, widened.
His mouth fell open, but no sound came out. Time seemed to stretch and twist, transforming that second into an eternity. He saw everything in slow motion. The recognition, the surprise, the pain that flashed in her gaze before a mask of cold professionalism tried unsuccessfully to cover the open wound. But it wasn’t just her face that paralyzed him.
It was what was below it, what the desk could no longer hide. Elellanena was pregnant, very pregnant. The silk blouse she was wearing did not conceal the prominent unmistakable curve of an advanced pregnancy. 8 months maybe. The belly rested immense and real between her and the world, between her and him. A pen slipped from her fingers and fell to the floor, the small snap of plastic against the porcelain sounding like a gunshot in the room’s seul silence.
Ryan felt the blood drain from his face. His legs went numb. The new beginning he had planned so carefully suddenly seemed like a bad joke, a cruel trap set by fate. He was there with the woman who represented his future to buy a house that would erase his past. And he was met with the most vivid ghost he could imagine, carrying a secret he didn’t even know existed.
What the hell was going on? Whose kid was that? The question exploded in his mind, so loud and violent that he was surprised he hadn’t screamed it. 8 months. The maths was simple, yet the most complicated equation of his life. 8 months took him back to the time of their separation, to the last arguments, to the nights of hostile silence in a bed that had once been their refuge.
To his side, Chelsea, far from the earthquake that was devastating Ryan’s inner world, frowned. Love, are you all right? You look like you’ve seen a ghost. She looked from Ryan to Elellanena andback to Ryan, the confusion beginning to turn into suspicion. Do you two know each other? The question hung in the air, loaded with a weight neither of them knew how to carry.
Ryan couldn’t speak. Elellanena, for her part, took a deep breath, a gasp of air that seemed to be the first in an eternity. She composed herself with a strength he didn’t know she had. The senior agent taking control of the wounded woman. But her eyes, oh, her eyes did not lie. They told a story of sleepless nights, of lonely decisions, and of a pain that divorce had not managed to close.
A story of which Ryan realized with growing terror he was still the main character. With a monumental effort, Elellanena looked away from Ryan and fixed her gaze on Chelsea, forcing her lips to curve into a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. It was a fragile mask, but it was all she had. “Yes, we knew each other a long time ago,” she replied, her voice surprisingly steady, though a little softer than normal.
“The world really is small, isn’t it?” She adjusted herself in her chair, a movement that was as much to get more comfortable as it was to create a symbolic distance using her own belly as a shield. Ryan finally found his voice, or an imitation of it. Ellanena, I I didn’t know you worked here. The words came out hollow, stripped of the confidence he had displayed just minutes earlier.
He was a stranger in his own skin, an actor who had forgotten his lines in the middle of the stage. “People change careers, Ryan. They start over,” she said, and the word start over came out with a point of irony so subtle that only he, who knew every inflection of her voice could catch it. Chelsea, however, seemed satisfied with the explanation.
For her, it was just an embarrassing coincidence, a small obstacle on the way to her dream mansion. Well, what a coincidence. Then you already know what good taste this man has,” she said, trying to break the ice, but only making it thicker. “We’re looking for something spectacular, big, modern, with an incredible entertainment area for our new beginning.
” Elellanena now felt her professionalism solidifying around her. She turned the computer screen towards them, and the first images of a sumptuous property filled the monitor. a glass and concrete facade, an infinity pool that seemed to merge with the blue sky, meticulously designed gardens. It was exactly the kind of place the new Ryan would want, the kind of place that screamed success and forgetfulness.
“This is one of our exclusive properties in the Gable’s estate,” Elellanena began, her voice now taking on the polished tone of an experienced salesperson. Five bedrooms, a home cinema, complete smart home automation. She spoke, describing the amenities, the luxury finishes, the benefits of the estate. But Ryan heard nothing.
His eyes were fixed on her, not on the photos. He watched the way her hand instinctively rested on her belly as she spoke, a protective and unconscious gesture. He noticed the slight swelling in her fingers, the absence of the wedding ring he had once placed there. He watched the way she avoided his gaze at all costs, focusing on Chelsea on the computer screen, on any point in the room but him. Every move she made was torture.
Every word was background noise to the one question that hammered in his head an incessant and maddening drum beat. Whose baby is that? The maths haunted him. eight months. Their divorce was finalized eight months ago, but the physical separation, the nights in separate rooms under the same roof, the last desperate and disastrous attempt at reconciliation, all of it swam in his memory.
Could it be? The possibility was an abyss opening at his feet. If it was his, why hadn’t she told him? Why the silence? The idea of Elellanena hiding a pregnancy of his was just as painful as the possibility that the child was another man’s conceived so quickly after the end of their marriage.
Which of the two truths would destroy him more? He tried to find answers in her face. He looked for a sign, a clue, anything. But Elellanena had become a fortress. She showed them photos of the master suite, the spacious walk-in wardrobe, the gourmet kitchen, and her expression was impenetrable. Yet she felt the weight of his gaze.
It was almost a physical presence, a heat on her skin that made her uncomfortable and caused her to lose her train of thought for a millisecond. She knew he wasn’t looking at the house. He was trying to see through her, trying to uncover the secret she was carrying in her heart. And with every second that passed under that silent scrutiny, the room seemed to shrink.
The air grew thinner, and the professional lie she was trying to maintain became heavier. Chelsea’s enthusiasm was a force of nature, impossible to contain. Her eyes sparkled at the images, and she leaned forward, almost touching the screen. “Oh my god, Ryan, it’s perfect. It’s exactly what I dreamed of,” she exclaimed, her voicevibrating with excitement.
She turned to Elellanena, completely ignoring the heavy atmosphere that only the other two in the room could feel. “We have to see this house now. Can you take us there?” Ellena felt a jolt of panic. It was one thing to maintain her composure behind the safety of her desk with a computer screen as a barrier.
It was another completely different thing to be in the same car as Ryan, guiding him through an empty house, an intimate space where the silence would only amplify the unspoken questions. For an instant she thought of inventing an excuse, saying that the visit had to be scheduled, that the owner wasn’t available, but Chelsea’s eyes were hungry, and to refuse would be unprofessional, raising suspicions she couldn’t afford to feed.
Of course, Elellanena replied, the word sounding more like a sentence than a confirmation. The house is vacant, and I have the keys here. We can go immediately. My car or yours. Let’s take ours, Chelsea decided, already getting up and grabbing her handbag. It’s more comfortable. You can guide us, darling. Darling sounded condescending.
the kind of address a woman like Chelsea used on someone she considered to be in her service. The 20inut drive to the estate was a lesson in silent torture. Chelsea talked nonstop, describing how she would decorate each room, where she would place the sofa the color she would paint the walls of the living room.
Ryan drove, his hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles were white. He replied to his girlfriend with monosyllables. H cool. Yeah. While his eyes constantly darted to the rear view mirror, searching for Elellanena’s face in the back seat. Elellanena in turn kept her eyes fixed on the passing landscape outside the window.
Every glimpse of Ryan’s face in the rear view mirror was like a small electric shock. She felt his presence in the car like a physical pressure, the scent of his cologne. the same one he used when they were married, invading her senses and bringing up a whirlwind of memories she fought daily to keep submerged.
She focused on her own breathing, on the feeling of the baby moving inside her, a solid and real presence that anchored her in the present and reminded her why she needed to be strong. Upon reaching the imposing gates of the estate, the grandeur of the place seemed to accentuate the tension even more. The streets were long and treelined, flanked by mansions that competed in luxury and extravagance.
Elellanena gave the final instructions, and Ryan parked his luxury car in front of the showcase home. In person, it was even more impressive. A modern and audacious structure that seemed to defy gravity. It’s wow was all Ryan could say, the admiration for the architecture momentarily distracting him from his personal drama.
Eleanor got out of the car with calculated slowness, the weight of her belly making each movement more deliberate. As she walked to the front door to unlock the electronic lock, she felt Ryan’s eyes burning into her back. As soon as the door opened, revealing an entrance hall with a double height ceiling and a floating marble staircase, Chelsea let out a sigh of pure ecstasy.
This is it. This is our house. Before Elellanena could even begin her formal presentation, Chelsea’s phone rang. She looked at the screen and made a face. Oh, it’s my mom. I have to take this. I’ll be quick. She gave Ryan a loud kiss on the lips. You guys go on without me, honey. I’ll be right back.
And just like that, she walked away, strolling through the side garden, her voice already lively on the call. The sound of Chelsea’s footsteps disappeared, and a deafening silence filled the hall. Suddenly, the vast space seemed small and claustrophobic. It was just the two of them, Ryan and Elellanena, past and present, colliding under the roof of a house that was supposed to be his future with another woman. Ryan didn’t waste any time.
He took a step towards her, his body tense, his expression a mix of anguish and urgency. The facade of a successful businessman had completely disintegrated, leaving only the confused and desperate man. Eleanor,” he began, his voice low, almost a whisper. “You have to tell me.” She didn’t turn to face him.
She kept her back to him, her hand on the doororknob as if trying to escape. “Tell you what, Ryan. The price per square meter, the estate fees, that’s part of my job.” The coldness in her voice was a newly forged armor. “Don’t mess with me,” he insisted, taking another step, closing the distance between them.
The scent of her perfume, a soft floral she always wore, hit him, and the familiarity of it was like a blow. The pregnancy, the baby. Elellanena finally turned, and her face was a mask of controlled indifference, but her eyes, her eyes were terrified. What about my pregnancy, Ryan? It doesn’t seem like a relevant matter for the purchase of a property.
Her evasion infuriated him. Her calm unsettled him. Relevant? Elellanena, forGod’s sake, look at yourself. How many months pregnant are you? Eight, she replied. The word short and sharp like a shard of glass. The number hit him again. 8 months,” he repeated, his voice cracking. “Ellanena, this child, he’s” He couldn’t finish the sentence.
The question was too big, too heavy to be verbalized. She stared at him for a long moment, and in that silence, he saw a universe of pain pass through her eyes. He saw the hesitation, the anger, the sadness. For a second he thought she was going to crumble, that the truth would finally come out.
But then something hardened in her expression. The vulnerability was swallowed by a wave of wounded pride and a glacial determination. She lifted her chin, her gaze turning sharp. That’s my business. It’s a personal matter that has nothing to do with you. The answer was a slap in the face. Dry, direct, impersonal. a steel door slamming shut in his face.
It wasn’t a denial, he realized, but it wasn’t a confirmation either. It was worse. It was a wall, a declaration that he no longer had the right to know, to ask, to be a part of her life to that extent. “It has nothing to do with me,” he retorted incredulously, his voice rising. “How can it have nothing to do with me? We were married for 10 years.
You lost all your rights the day you decided our marriage was over. She cut him off, her voice now laced with a bitterness she could no longer hide. You wanted a new beginning, Ryan. Well, this is mine. She gestured to her own belly, the gesture now defiant. And he has absolutely nothing to do with you or your past.
Each word was a dagger. She was excluding him, erasing him not just from her present, but from the possibility of a shared future that he didn’t even know could exist. The mystery was not solved. On the contrary, it had become more dense, more painful. Her tur response gave him no peace. It only left him with an even greater emptiness, an uncertainty that would now consume him entirely.
He stood there paralyzed in the hall of that empty mansion, while Elellanena, the woman he had once known better than himself, had become the greatest and most painful enigma of his life. The sound of Chelsea’s heels on the marble floor, announced her return, breaking the unbearable bubble of tension that had formed between Ryan and Eleanor.
She came back smiling, energized by the phone conversation and completely oblivious to the silent confrontation that had just happened. “Done! Sorted! Family matters,” she said, putting her phone back in her bag. Her eyes swept over the entrance hall with an almost childish admiration. “Oh my god, I can’t believe it.
It’s even more beautiful in person. Let’s see the rest.” Elellanena, with impressive speed, recomposed her professional mask. The defiant glint in her eyes was replaced by a neutral politeness. “Of course. This way we have the main living area with direct access to the pool area,” she said, beginning the tour as if nothing had happened.
Ryan followed her, feeling like a robot. Elellanena’s words echoed in his mind. This is my new beginning and he has absolutely nothing to do with you. The phrase was a wall of ice and he felt like he was on the outside freezing. He barely registered the rooms around him. For him, the wide white walls seemed to be closing in.
The double- height ceiling seemed to be caving in. As they walked through the vast living area, a cavernous and impersonal space, Chelsea made a face. It’s nice, but it needs a lot of work, a bit of life, you know. She turned to Ryan, taking his arm again, a gesture that now seemed to irritate him. I hope this place is cozier than that old apartment you lived in with your ex’s terrible decor.
The phrase fell into the air like a stone. It was said without calculated malice, more like a careless thought from someone used to saying whatever came into her head. But the effect was devastating. Ryan flinched. A heat rose up his neck. A mix of shame and anger. He wanted to silence Chelsea to tell her to stop, but the words wouldn’t come out.
He just looked horrified at Elellanena, waiting for her reaction. Elellanena did not waver. She showed no anger or hurt. Instead, a tiny, almost imperceptible smile of pure irony curved the corner of her lips. It was a smile that made her seem, for an instant, like the most powerful person in the room. Her eyes met Ryan’s for a fraction of a second, and in that look, there was a universe of meaning.
“Are you seeing this? Is this what you chose to start over with?” Turning to Chelsea with a disconcerting calm, Elellanena replied in a voice as soft as silk, “Well, the advantage of a house like this is that it’s a blank canvas. When buying a mansion of this size, I imagine you’ll hire a good architect to make everything exactly your style, won’t you?” The question was polite, but it carried a subtle barb, a suggestion that Chelsea’s taste on its own might not be enough.
The veiled provocation went completely unnoticed by Chelsea, who wastoo dazzled by the sheer scale of everything. Oh, for sure. I already have a Pinterest board full of ideas. I want everything white and gold, you know, really luxurious, and a walk-in wardrobe. Oh, the walk-in wardrobe has to be the size of an apartment. Where’s the master suite? I want to see the wardrobe.
Chelsea’s immaturity was stark. She was a child in a candy store, running from side to side, pointing at everything she wanted, oblivious to the clouds and complexities of the situation. She talked about tearing down walls, changing floors, installing crystal chandeliers, all with an excitement that bordered on frenzy.
Ryan felt more and more uncomfortable. Every word from Chelsea was like a nail being hammered into his conscience. He looked at Elellanena, who listened patiently to Chelsea’s monologue, nodding at the right moments, maintaining her professional composure, but he could see the effort behind that calm. He saw the woman he had loved for a decade, the woman who had decorated their apartment with pieces they had chosen together on trips with photos of their history, being indirectly insulted by a dazzled young woman who knew nothing about the
life he had destroyed. Chelsea, maybe we should focus on the house’s structure first. He tried to intervene, his voice strained. Oh, honey, relax. The structure is excellent. You can see that,” she replied, dismissing his concern with a wave of her hand. “The important thing is to imagine how we’re going to live here.
Elellanena, darling, this kitchen is wonderful, but I’d gut it all. I want a bigger island with calacata gold marble. Do you think that’s possible?” Ryan wanted to sink into the floor. He wanted to grab Chelsea’s arm, drag her out of there, and scream at her to shut up. Elellanena’s presence, the mysterious pregnancy, and now the display of his girlfriend’s insensitivity, it all added up to a cocktail of humiliation and regret.
He wasn’t buying a house for a new beginning. He was staging a farce. And Elellanena, with her ironic smile and her dignified silence, was the only one in the audience who knew the truth. The tour continued room after room, and with every step, Ryan’s discomfort turned into a silent panic. Elellanena’s presence was a mirror that reflected a version of himself he didn’t want to face.
The man who traded depth for superficiality, history for novelty, love for a shiny new thing. He couldn’t take it anymore. Chelsea’s voice, once exciting and full of life, now sounded shrill and empty. The mansion, which was supposed to be the ultimate symbol of his success, felt like a cold, soulless tomb. He had to get out of there.
He needed air. He needed to escape Elellanena’s gaze, which, even when not directed at him, seemed to judge him in silence. While they were in the master suite, a gigantic room with an entire wall of glass overlooking the native bushland, Ryan saw his chance. Chelsea was, as expected, enthralled by the size of the walk-in wardrobe.
“This is it, honey. This is our place. Let’s make an offer today,” she declared, spinning in the middle of the room with her arms outstretched. Ryan took a deep breath, forcing an expression of serious consideration. I don’t know, Chelsea. I’m just not feeling it, you know. Chelsea stopped spinning, the smile disappearing from her face.
What? What do you mean you’re not feeling it? Ryan, this house is perfect. It has everything we wanted and more. He walked to the window, pretending to analyze the view. It’s the location, he lied, grabbing the first excuse that came to mind. It’s too far back in the estate and all that bush land behind it. I don’t know.
It seems a bit too isolated and the position of the sun. I don’t think the pool will get sun all day. They were flimsy excuses and he knew it. The house was in one of the best locations in the estate, and the privacy was a selling point, not a floor. Chelsea looked at him incredulously. Isolated? Ryan? That’s called privacy.
And the sun? You don’t even know which side the sun rises from. You’re making things up. 5 minutes ago, you were so excited to find our nest. I know, but seeing it in person is different, he insisted, his voice sounding weak, even to his own ears. I think we should see other options before we decide.
We can’t buy the first house we visit. It’s a very big investment. Elellanena, who had remained silent near the door, observed the exchange with a studied neutrality. Inside, however, she felt a strange mix of relief and confusion. Why was he sabotaging the purchase of his new girlfriend’s dreamhouse? Chelsea’s frustration was palpable.
She crossed her arms, a pout forming. I can’t believe you, Ryan. The house is perfect, and you’re looking for floors that don’t exist. But fine, she relented, her voice laden with annoyance. If you want to waste time looking at other inferior houses, that’s your decision. Let’s just go then. The relief that flooded Ryan was so intense he almost staggered. Great, Elellanena.Thanks for your time.
We’ll be in touch to schedule other viewings, he said, already moving towards the exit, desperate to escape. That won’t be necessary for me to come back with you, Elellanena said, her calm voice stopping them in the hallway. I need to wait for the owner to arrive to sign some maintenance documents. You can go. I’ll close everything up afterwards.
The excuse was plausible, and for her, it was essential. The idea of spending another 20 minutes trapped in a car with that tension was unbearable. Ryan just nodded, grateful he wouldn’t have to face the drive back with her. The front door closed behind them, and the sound of the luxury car driving away echoed down the silent street.
Alone in the immensity of the empty house, Elellanena finally allowed herself to fall apart. She leaned against the cold wall of the hallway, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. One, two, three times. The air that filled her lungs felt like the first in an hour. Her hand went instinctively to her belly, caressing the firm curve beneath her blouse.
What was that? Coincidence? Did the universe have a sick sense of humor? Of all the real estate agencies, of all the agents, did he have to walk into her office? And why did he back down? She knew him. Ryan, when he wanted something, was relentless. Seeing him invent such flimsy excuses not to buy that house, the personification of everything he had always aspired to, made no sense.
Unless, unless seeing her there, pregnant, had unsettled something inside him. The possibility frightened her, and at the same time it awakened a spark of something she thought had been dead for a long time. Meanwhile, in the car, the silence was heavy and hostile. As soon as they passed the gates of the estate, Chelsea exploded.
“I don’t believe you, Ryan. What was that whole charade? I didn’t like the house,” he replied, his eyes fixed on the road. “You didn’t like the house or you didn’t like the agent?” she accused, her voice rising an octave. “What was that whole vibe between you two? We’ve known each other for a long time. What’s that about? You’ve been acting weird ever since you saw her.
It has nothing to do with her. Chelsea, stop being paranoid. Ryan, I’m not an idiot. You looked at me funny in there and the terrible decor of your ex. You didn’t even flinch. And you were pale. She’s your ex, isn’t she? Elellanena. Ryan did not reply. His silence was the confirmation. Oh my god, Chelsea said, the anger mixing with a shocking realization.
The agent is your ex-wife, and you take me there to buy a house. You’re sick. I didn’t know it was her, he finally yelled, hitting his hand on the steering wheel. I had no idea. Do you think I would plan something like that? The argument escalated. A storm of accusations and denials filled the confined space of the car.
But in the midst of the chaos, Ryan’s mind was somewhere else. It was back in that entrance hall to the mystery in Elellanena’s eyes, to her tur response, and above all to the image of that belly. The truth she refused to deal with was now consuming him, making everything else, the mansion, the argument, the future with Chelsea, insignificant.
The night was a living hell for Ryan. The argument with Chelsea dragged on for hours, a vicious cycle of accusations and denials that only ended when exhaustion overcame them. But sleep brought no relief. He tossed and turned in bed, haunted by the image of Elellanena, the prominent belly, the pained look, the cold dignity with which she treated him.
While Chelsea was still asleep, exhausted from the fight, he grabbed his phone and went to the balcony. The morning air was cold, but he didn’t feel it. His hands trembled as he dialed the real estate agency’s number. He no longer had her personal number. The receptionist answered with the same polite voice as the day before.
Ryan, trying to stay calm, asked to speak with Elellanena. Just a moment, please. The weight was agonizing. Every second felt like an hour. He heard the click of the transfer and then her voice. Elellanena speaking. It sounded professional, distant. Ellena, it’s me, Ryan. There was a pause on the other end of the line.
He could imagine her at her desk, her body stiffening, the professional mask going up. Ryan, is something wrong? Did you change your mind about the house? No, it’s not about the house, he said, his voice low. I need to talk to you, not as a client, but as me. We need to talk, please. The silence on the other end stretched.
He held his breath, expecting a refusal, the door slamming in his face again. “About what, Ryan?” she finally asked, and there was an infinite weariness in her voice. “About everything? about yesterday. About the baby, he said, the last word coming out almost as a whisper. Please, Elellanena, 5 minutes. A coffee, wherever you want.
He heard a long, heavy sigh. It was the sound of an armor cracking. I’m on my lunch break in an hour at the cafe on the corner of the agency. Ifyou’re not there, I won’t wait. and she hung up. Ryan felt a mixture of relief and terror. She had agreed. An hour later, he was sitting at a small table in the back of the cafe, his hands sweating around a cup he hadn’t touched.
When Elellanena walked in, she looked different. Without her agent suit, wearing a simple knitted dress that didn’t hide but embraced her pregnancy, she looked more vulnerable, more real. She walked to the table and sat down without a word, her gaze expectant. Thanks for coming, he began awkwardly. You have 5 minutes, Ryan.
He went straight to the point. There was no more room for beating around the bush. The child is mine, isn’t he? Elellanena stared at him, her hazel eyes studying his face. She didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she asked a question. Does it matter now? It does, Elellanena. For God’s sake, of course it matters. It’s my son.
Why didn’t you tell me why? The anguish in his voice was genuine. She finally looked away, moving a sugar sache on the table. When she spoke, her voice was low but firm, stripped of the anger of the day before, and filled with a deep, resigned sadness. I found out 2 weeks after we separated, she began, and each word seemed to cost her immense effort.
I was going to tell you, I swear I was. I called you that weekend, remember? Ryan furrowed his brow, searching his memory. I I think so. I was busy. “You were on a weekend trip with someone else,” she said without accusation, just stating a fact. A friend of yours posted photos on social media. You looked so happy, Ryan. So free. Starting over.
She used his word and it sounded like poison. I saw you with her and then with another and another. You dove head first into your new single life. You never looked back. Not for a second. She paused, taking a deep breath. And I realized that a baby wouldn’t fit into that new beginning.
What was I supposed to do? Call you and say, “Hi, Ryan. Congrats on the new girlfriend. By the way, you’re going to be a dad. I would be the anchor. The past dragging you down when all you wanted was to move on.” So, I made a decision. This would be my new beginning. Mine and his. I didn’t want my child to be a burden or an obligation for a father who had already chosen another path.
Her words hit him like a wave, knocking the air out of him. He had no defense. It was all true. He had thrown himself into the world, seeking validation and forgetfulness in the arms of other women, desperate to prove to himself and the world that the end of his marriage had not broken him. and in the process he became blind and deaf to everything he had left behind.
Stunned, he could only stammer, “Ellanena, I I didn’t know.” “No,” she agreed with a sad nod. “You didn’t know, and that was my choice.” She got up, the chair scraping on the floor. “My 5 minutes are up, Ryan.” He watched her leave the cafe, the silhouette of her pregnancy outlined against the streetlight. He remained there, paralyzed, the world spinning around him.
He was going to be a father. He was a father, and he didn’t know it. The woman he loved was carrying his son all alone for 8 months because he was too busy being selfish. The revelation brought no relief, only an overwhelming weight of guilt and regret. He spent the rest of the day in a trance. The night was even worse than the one before.
There was no sleep, only a replay of the conversation, the realization of his own monumental failure. In the middle of the night, his phone vibrated. It was Chelsea. “Hey, babe.” Her voice sounded cheerful, as if the fight from the day before had never happened. I did some research and found three other incredible houses. One of them even has a climate controlled wine celler.
Can we go visit it tomorrow? I already spoke with the agent. Ryan closed his eyes. Her voice, the houses, the wine celler. It all seemed to belong to another life, to a person he no longer was. That man who cared about mansions and appearances had begun to die the instant he saw Ellanena behind that desk. Chelsea, he replied, his voice cold and distant, an echo of the emptiness he felt inside.
I can’t tomorrow. I can’t talk about this now. He hung up before she could reply, leaving her in confused silence and himself in an even deeper darkness. The following week was a blur of anguish for Ryan. He lived in a state of suspended animation, mechanically going to work, answering emails, and attending meetings.
But his mind was somewhere else. It was with Elellanena. The conversation in the cafe had broken him down and rebuilt him into something different. Guilt was a constant companion, a weight on his shoulders that made him walk with a stoop. He barely spoke to Chelsea, who alternated between anger at his distance and frustrated attempts to entice him with new floor plans for luxurious houses.
Everything seemed futile, insignificant. He gave Elellanar the space she seemed to want, but the distance only increased his torment. After 7 days of torturous silence, hecouldn’t take it anymore. He needed to hear her voice. He needed to know if she was all right or if she wanted help with anything in her pregnancy.
He needed He didn’t even know what he needed, but the need for connection was overwhelming. He dialed the real estate agency’s number, his heart hammering against his ribs. The receptionist informed him that Elellanena hadn’t come to work. A shiver ran down Ryan’s spine. He thanked her and hung up, panic starting to bubble.
He didn’t have her new personal number, but he remembered he still had his ex-mother-in-law’s contact, Marie, saved on his phone from a family emergency years ago. He hesitated for a moment. Calling Marie was crossing a line, but the anxiety was stronger now. He called. The phone rang once, twice, three times.
Voicemail. He tried again, his hands sweating. This time a breathless and distressed voice answered on the second ring. Hello. It was Marie, but her voice was choked with emotion, tense. Marie, it’s Ryan. I’m sorry to call you like this, but is Ellaner all right? I called her work and they said she wasn’t there.
There was a pause followed by a sob. Ryan, her water broke this morning. We’re at the hospital. She’s gone into labor. Ryan’s world stopped. The floor seemed to disappear beneath his feet. Hospital? Which hospital? Marie hesitated. Why do you want to know, Ryan? The question wasn’t aggressive, but loaded with old pain.
Because I need to be there. Please, Marie, I need to. He pleaded. His voice choked. After a second that felt like an eternity, she told him the name of the hospital. Ryan didn’t wait for anything else. He grabbed his car keys and ran from his office, ignoring the confused looks of his colleagues. He drove like a madman, weaving through traffic, his mind a storm of fear and hope.
He found Marie in the maternity waiting room. She was pacing back and forth, her face pale and lined with worry. Seeing him, she stopped. “What happened?” “How is she?” he asked, breathless. They took her to the delivery room an hour ago, Marie said, her eyes filled with tears. But it seems there’s a problem.
The baby, he’s having some difficulty breathing. They’re talking about taking him to the neonatal ICU as soon as he’s born. The news was like a punch to Ryan’s stomach. His son, who he’d barely had time to assimilate the existence of, was already in danger. A wave of fear and powerlessness overwhelmed him. Can I see her? I need to see her.
Marie looked at him for a moment, and the old hostility in her gaze gave way to a shared understanding of fear. She nodded and led him down a corridor to a half-open door. She’s in there waiting for news. Ryan entered the room. Elellanena was sitting on the edge of the hospital bed, dressed in a hospital gown, her face pale and tear stained.
The immense belly had disappeared. She was staring at the door, her hands twisting a sheet, her expression a mask of pure anguish. When her eyes met his, there was no anger or surprise, just a helplessness that mirrored his own. He didn’t think. He acted on pure instinct. He crossed the room in two long strides and enveloped her in his arms.
The moment he touched her, he felt the trembling of her body, the fear that was consuming her. And as he held her, as he felt her fragility against his chest, something inside him broke and realigned. The anger, the selfishness, the need to prove something to the world. It all dissolved. All that was left was an overwhelming desire to protect her, to protect them.
He was no longer the ex-husband. He was his son’s father. He was a part of this whether she wanted it or not. His phone vibrated in his pocket and vibrated again and again. It was Chelsea. He ignored her. Nothing else mattered. They held each other in silence for a long time until the door opened and a doctor came in, his face serious.
“Ellaner?” the doctor asked, looking at them both. Ryan just nodded, his hand still on Ellena’s shoulder. I’m Dr. Allan, the pediatrician. Your son is a strong boy. We had a small respiratory complication, which is common in a slightly premature birth, and we’ve taken him to the ICU for observation.
But the good news is that he’s reacting very well to the treatment. His lungs are getting stronger every minute. He’s a fighter. Elellanena let out a sob of relief, her body softening in Ryan’s arms. The doctor smiled. Little Leo is going to be fine. The name hit Ryan with the force of a trumpet. Leo. He looked at Elellanena, his eyes wide, filled with a silent question.
Elellanena stared back at him, and for the first time in a long time, a genuine, albeit tired, smile touched her lips. He’s named after his father,” she whispered. An emotion he didn’t know he was capable of feeling overwhelmed him. A wave of love, gratitude, and pain engulfed him, and the tears he’d been holding back finally rolled down his face.
He was going to be a father to a boy, a boy named Leo. “Can I see him?” he asked the doctor,his voice choked. Of course, the nurse will take you. Minutes later, he was standing in front of an incubator in the neonatal ICU, and there he was, small, so small, with a tuft of dark hair and delicate features. A monitor beeped rhythmically beside him, a sound that was the most beautiful music Ryan had ever heard.
He reached out and touched the glass of the incubator, his chest exploding with a love so fierce and absolute that it took his breath away. The mansion, the luxury car, the life he thought he wanted. It all turned to dust. The only thing that mattered in the entire universe was right there in that small being who was fighting to breathe, his son, little Leo.
The following hours were a dreamlike state for Ryan. He went back and forth between the neonatal ICU, where he watched, hypnotized by his son’s every small movement, and Elellanena’s room, where they sat in a comfortable silence. The animosity of the past was replaced by a shared concern and a new, fragile connection. When a nurse finally brought little Leo to Elellanena’s arms for the first time, Ryan’s heart seized up.
Seeing her holding their son, her face illuminated by a pure and exhausted love was a revelation. That was his place. That was his family. The image was so right, so fundamental that it blotted out everything else. He knew with a clarity that both frightened and freed him what he needed to do. He left Elellanena and the baby with Marie and drove home, his heart heavy, but his mind resolved.
Chelsea was waiting for him, fury stamped on her face. Where were you? I called you a hundred times. You just disappear all day and you don’t even bother to answer. Ryan looked at her, not with anger, but with a sad calm. Chelsea, we need to talk. He didn’t need to say much. The truth was in his eyes.
He told her about Elellanena, about the hospital, about the birth of his son. He told her that he couldn’t continue with this farce. Chelsea’s reaction was volcanic. Disbelief gave way to anger and anger to a destructive fury. “You’re leaving me for her? For your boring ex-wife, and now for a baby who wasn’t even supposed to exist?” she screamed.
her voice shrill. She began to walk around the room, taking the objects they had bought together, the symbols of the life he had promised her, and throwing them to the floor. A crystal vase shattered, photo frames splintered, books were ripped from the shelves. It was a storm of resentment and pain.
“I gave you love, passion. I was your future, and you’re throwing it all away for a ghost from your past.” Chelsea spat the words before grabbing her handbag and leaving, slamming the door with a force that made the walls tremble. Alone in the midst of the wreckage of his artificial life, Ryan felt sick.
The violence of the scene shook him profoundly. He sat on the sofa, his head in his hands, the weight of his mistakes overwhelming him. On an impulse, he picked up his phone and called his therapist, a figure who had helped him navigate his divorce. He spoke for 20 minutes, his voice choked, pouring out the guilt, the fear, and the small flame of hope that insisted on burning.
When he hung up, he felt lighter. Shaken, yes, but with an unshakable certainty. He had caused pain, but continuing the lie would cause even more. He knew he had made the only right decision. He got up, ignoring the mess. He drove to the nearest florest and bought the biggest, most beautiful bouquet of peies, Elellanena’s favorite flowers.
With the bouquet on the passenger seat, he drove back to the hospital, his heart now beating with a new melody, a mix of nervousness and determination. He found Elellanena in the room cradling little Leo, who was sleeping peacefully in her arms. Marie was beside her, smiling. Ryan stopped in the doorway and the two women looked at him.
He took a step inside, extending the flowers. “Ellanena,” he began, his voice trembling. “I have no words to tell you how sorry I am for everything, for my selfishness, for my darkness, for the pain I caused you. I’m not asking you to forget because I’ll never forget. But I’m here to ask for your forgiveness. When I saw you with him, I understood everything.
My life isn’t an empty mansion or a luxury car. My life is right here with you. If you give me a chance, I swear I’ll spend every day for the rest of my life proving that I am worthy of being our son’s father. And if you’ll have me, of being your husband again, I want my family back. Tears streamed down Elellanena’s face as she listened.
They were different tears from before, not of pain, but of an emotion she thought she would never feel again. She looked at the son sleeping in her arms, and then at the man in front of her, a man who seemed to have aged 10 years in a week, but whose eyes shone with a sincerity she hadn’t seen in a very long time.
A slow, genuine, and radiant smile spread across her face. At that exact moment, the door opened and the head nurse came in with a clipboard.”I have good news,” she said cheerfully. “The little champ’s latest tests came back perfect. He’s ready to be discharged. You can take your son home.” The words sealed the moment. Home. family.
New beginning. Elellanena looked at Ryan, her smile widening. He leaned in and kissed her. A soft kiss filled with forgiveness, promises, and the joy of a future rediscovered. Marie in the corner of the room wiped away her tears, her emotional eyes witnessing the miracle of that new start.
Together, they packed their few things. Ryan held the baby carrier with a reverent care, as if he were carrying the most precious treasure in the world. As they left the room side by side, they were no longer an ex couple and their child, but a family, whole and ready to write the first chapter of their new and true story.
So, what do you think of this emotional story? I would love to hear your opinion. Leave your rating from 0 to 10 in the comments below. And if you were moved and hoped for this happy ending, don’t forget to like this video to help us bring you more content like this. Oh, and most importantly, if you’re not yet part of our community, subscribe to the channel now and hit the notification button so you don’t miss any of our upcoming stories.
A big hug and see you next time.
