Billionaire, Let's Divorce (Mark and Sydney)

Chapter 0243

"I will," I ran my fingers through my hair and plonked on the bed, feeling the soft mattress sink beneath me. The weight of the day's emotions pressed down on me and made even the simple act of sitting up feel like a monumental task.

"I just need time."

Clara's eyes softened with concern, but her voice remained firm.

"Well, you don't have that time," she started to pull me up gently but insistently. "Because I'm going to the club and you're coming with me."

I felt a surge of resistance well up inside me.

"No," I said definitely and started to pull away, my body tensing. "I'm not going anywhere."

The thought of facing a crowd, of pretending to be okay when my world had just shattered, seemed impossible.

"Please, Ana," Clara pleaded desperately. "I can't watch you go away like this. You're my best friend, and seeing you like this... it breaks my heart."

I sighed. "Just let me have this night. It's been four years!"

Clara shook her head, "Doesn't matter. Four years or four decades, cheating is cheating."

Clara- I started, but she cut me off.

“I'm sure he's probably still humping some other lady and you're here sulking pathetically." Her blunt words hit me like a slap, forcing me to confront the reality I was trying to avoid.

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She was probably right. The girl was in his house after all. He probably went back into her arms after I left. The image of them together made my stomach churn again.

Clara's voice softened as her hand reaching out to squeeze mine.

"His cheating ass doesn't deserve this. You should yo out there and have fun. Show yourself and him, that life goes on no matter what."

I looked into her eyes. My resolve began to crumble. Maybe she was right. Maybe hiding away wasn't the answer.

I took a deep breath, "Okay."

And that was how I was roped into going to a club when I should be mourning my lost love. As Clara helped me get ready, applying makeup to hide the traces of tears and choosing an outfit that made me feel somewhat confident, I tried to push thoughts of him out of my mind.

The club was a sensory overload, with pulsing lights, throbbing music, and the press of bodies all around us. At first, it was overwhelming, but as the night wore on, I was finally getting caught up in the energy of it all. It wasn't such a bad idea though. In fact, I'm glad I am out here, I thought as Clara and I twerked to the song that came on, laughing like we had no care in the world.

The rhythm of the music seemed to be pushing out the pain, at least temporarily.

"I'll get us a new round this time," I told her.

"That's sweet of you," she giggled, her face flushed from dancing.

1 lightly moved my body to the music as I made my way to the bar area. The alcohol was still buzzing through my system and making

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everything feel slightly surreal.

I dropped the cups before the bar guy and told him my order, tapping my fingers on the sticky counter as I waited.

"All that for you?" came a firm gruff voice from beside me.

Even before I turned to him with a straight face, I knew who it was.

"Yes," I said simply and looked away, hoping he'd take the hint.

It was Dennis. It might sound harmless but everyone in my college, even outside it knew Dennis could never be associated with that word. His mere presence screams trouble. Gangs fight, violence, gun fights, name it, Dennis would always be the head. The stories about him were legendary, and not in a good way.

"Come on, beautiful, don't be like that." His voice was smooth, almost predatory.

I tapped my finger on the counter as I waited for my drinks, deliberately ignoring him. But I knew my heart was racing out of slight fear or something.

"Ohh," he chuckled. "A big drinker and a snob? Sexy," he drawled, leaning closer.

When the barman was done, I picked up my drinks and turned to leave. I was so eager to get back to the relative safety of Clara and the dance floor.

I had just taken a step when the world started to swirl in front of me. Rapidly, everything became a blur, with the lights of the club stretching into long, disorienting streaks. I felt my hands drop the drinks, the sound of shattering glass barely registering through the roaring in my ears.

Then I was falling

i didn't hit the floor...someone broke my fall.

Strong arms caught me, holding me up as my legs gay

1. ay. The

last thing I saw before everything went blank was the frown on Dennis' face as he hoisted me up in his arms.

Slowly, I peeled my eyes open, the world gradually coming into focus: I looked around me, blinking against the harsh fluorescent lights. It took only a few seconds before I recognized my surroundings. The sterile white walls, the beeping machines.

I was in a hospital.

Just then, the doctor stepped in.

"Miss, you're awake. How do you feel?" He asked with a kind smile. "Umm... fine." My voice was hoarse and my throat was dry.

Remembering how I had suddenly felt before I blanked out, a spike of fear shot through me.

"Am I okay?"

"You're perfectly okay." Then he added with a wide smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, "And the baby too."

"Huh?" The word came out as barely more than a breath.

You're a month pregnant, Miss."