I Dropped My Pregnancy Test, He Cradled His Mistress

I didn’t hesitate for a second.

As soon as I completed the discharge paperwork, I went straight home and started packing.

The sound of a key turning in the lock came just as I was stuffing a folded pile of clothes into my suitcase.

The zipper was only halfway closed, leaving a few of my favorite dresses exposed.

When Gifford pushed the door open, his gaze swept across the open suitcase, and his brows immediately drew together.

“Packing?” he asked, his voice carrying a note of suspicion.

Flustered, I pressed a knit sweater on top to cover the clothes inside and forced out a stiff smile.

“Mm, just changing seasons. I’m putting away the thick clothes.”

My heart was pounding so hard it hurt. Even my fingertips trembled, terrified he’d see through me.

He clearly didn’t believe it. He walked over, crouched down, and traced a finger along the edge of the suitcase.

“You usually let the housekeeper handle this kind of thing. What’s gotten into you to handle this yourself today?”

“Nothing,” I replied evenly. “Just wanted to keep myself busy.”

His gaze lingered on my face, probing, but he didn’t press further. After a pause, he stood up and said simply, “I’m going to take a shower.”

I let out a quiet breath of relief and quickly zipped the suitcase shut.

But when I looked up, I saw that he hadn’t gone to the bathroom. He was standing still in the living room.

Following his gaze, my blood ran cold. Lying on the dark carpet, glaringly white against the black, was the pregnancy test report I’d brought back from the hospital that morning.

It must have fallen during the argument we had then.

“What’s that?” His voice cut through the silence.

Before I could even think, I lunged forward and pressed my foot over the paper.

“Nothing… Just a receipt from the supermarket,” I stammered, turning around quickly, trying to keep my expression calm. “I was planning to use it for a return, but it slipped out of my bag.”

His eyes dropped to my foot, and his frown deepened. “A receipt? Let me see it.”

“No need!” My voice shot up, sharper than I intended, trembling with panic I couldn’t hide. “It’s useless anyway. I’ll just ask the housekeeper to handle the return later.”

I stepped back slightly, blocking his view. “Didn’t you say you were going to shower? You should go. The water will get cold.”

He stared at me for a few seconds, and I clenched my fists tight, praying he wouldn’t ask another question.

The air between us hung heavy for a moment until his phone chimed. Obviously, it was a message from Dakota.

He didn’t say anything else. He just turned around, grabbed his car keys, and walked out.

The sound of the door closing hit me like a release. My knees gave out, and I nearly collapsed onto the floor.

I snatched the pregnancy report from under my shoe, crumpled it tightly, and pressed it against my chest.

Back in the bedroom, I yanked the suitcase zipper shut with a hard click.

Staring at the door Gifford had just walked through, only one thought filled my mind.

‘Before I leave, I can’t let him find out I’m pregnant.’

With that, I pulled out my phone and sent a message to Devon.

[Change of plans. Come pick me up in three days.]