Chapter 52
Valerie’s POV
I was so excited as I thought of how to break the news to Damian.
I couldn’t wait to share the news with Damian. But I wanted it to be special, romantic.
I took a deep breath and began planning. I would recreate our first dance, under the stars, where Damian had first whispered his love to me.
I booked the same beach side villa, arranging for a private dinner on the shore. The staff agreed to set up a candlelit table, complete with Damian’s favorite champagne.
As the sun began to set, I slipped into a flowing white gown, my hair styled in loose waves. I felt like a goddess.
I texted Damian, sending him the address and asked him to come over when he closes from work.
“Babe, I got your text. What is this all about?” He asked, when he called me.
“Don’t worry, you’ll figure out soon. Just come and don’t be late.” I said merrily, hanging up.
Later in the evening, Damian arrived, dressed in a tailored suit, his eyes scanning the setting.
“Wow! To what do I owe this pleasant surprise?” He asked as I just beamed with smiles. I was too excited to say something.
“Valerie, this is incredible.”
I smiled, taking his hand. “Dance with me.”
“Okay, but you’ll tell me the occasion after our dance. You’re keeping me in suspense.” He said
We swayed to the music, the stars beginning to twinkle above. I felt Damian’s eyes on me, his love radiating like warmth.
As we paused, I took a deep breath. “Damian, I have something to tell you.”
His gaze intensified. “What is it?”
I guided his hand to my belly. “We’re having a baby.”
I had expected Damian to smile in shock or joy, but his reaction was what I least expected.
I stood frozen, staring at Damian’s expression. His eyes, once filled with warmth, now seemed icy.
“We’re having a baby,” I repeated in a low tone, my voice trembling.
Damian’s gaze lingered on my belly before he turned away. “This can’t be happening.”
I felt like I’d been punched in the gut. “What do you mean? I thought you’d be happy.”
Damian’s tone was detached. “I need time to process this. This can’t happen. How possible is that?”
I took a step forward, confusion etched on my face. “Process? What’s there to process? We’re having a child, Damian.”
He poured himself a glass of champagne, his movements mechanical. “I said I need time, Valerie.”
The candlelit dinner, once romantic, now felt suffocating. I searched his eyes for answers, but they remained cold, shuttered.
“Damian, talk to me. What’s wrong?”
He raised his glass, his voice dripping with indifference. “To new developments.”
The toast felt like a slap. I pushed my chair back, standing. “I think I’ll go inside.”
Damian didn’t stop me.
As I fled the beach, tears streaming down my face, I wondered what I’d done wrong. Why was he unhappy about the baby? We are married now, it’s right for couples to have babies.
Was it the pregnancy? Had I misread our relationship entirely?
The villa’s silence enveloped me like a shroud. I couldn’t believe my dream night had been shattered.
Why was Damian so unhappy about our child?
My tears fell like rain as I went back home. I left without Damian and he didn’t bother to say a word. I was perplexed by his cold treatment. Confusion and hurt warred within me. Why had Damian reacted so coldly?
Damian came home later in the night and slept in a separate room. Silence hung over the house as we laid separately for the first time since our wedding.
Before I could wake up the next morning, he had already gone off to work.
Inside the house, I paced, trying to make sense of his behavior. Our love had been strong, out bond unshakeable. Or so I thought.
Why then did he say that he needed time to process it. What was there to process?
I stopped in front of the mirror, wiping away tears. My reflection showed a shattered woman.
“How could he?” I whispered.
My mind raced with questions. Was it the pregnancy? Was he not ready for fatherhood?
I couldn’t shake the feeling that Damian was hiding something.
As night fell, my emotional turmoil intensified. I felt alone, lost, waiting for him to return from work.
Damian’s silence was deafening.
She needed answers.
We ate dinner in silence, barely looking at each other. I made a firm resolve to raise the topic after our meal.
With newfound determination, I walked inside his study, where Damian still sat, nursing his drink.
“Damian, we need to talk.”
His eyes flickered, but he didn’t look up.
“About what?” he asked, his tone detached.
“About us. About our child. About why you’re so unhappy.” I pleaded.
His gaze finally met mine, his eyes empty.
“I told you, Valerie. I need time. It is just unbelievable and happening so fast.”
My voice trembled. “Time? What do you mean by saying that it is unbelievable? We had sex multiple times without any form of protection or caution. Were you not expecting that there would be an outcome?” Anger was beginning to rise up to my gut, but I fought to remain calm.
“I’ve said this before, I need time! Don’t you understand?” He asked sternly, his fury gaze making my heart skip a beat.
“You’re shutting me out, Damian. Tell me what’s going on.” I pleaded as I walked over to the oakwood table, taking his hands in mine.
His mask slipped for an instant, revealing a glimmer of pain.
Then, his expression hardened.
“Nothing’s going on, Valerie. Just drop it.”
I felt a chill run down my spine. Something was terribly wrong. Damian is not like this. I must figure out what the problem is, whatever the cost.
No matter how many times I tried to make Damian talk, he always kept mute. I was worried about why he was so upset about our baby. Our joy.
The grandeur of Richardson Manor now felt suffocating. Damian’s behavior had shifted dramatically since I shared the news of my pregnancy. His absence had become a normal occurence. He’d leave before dawn and return long after midnight, rarely sharing a meal with me.
Tonight was no exception.
I sat alone in the dining room, the elegant table setting mocking me. Mrs. Jenkins had prepared my favorite dish, but the taste was bland without Damian’s company.
As the clock struck eleven p. m, I heard the door open. Damian stumbled in, reeking of alcohol. The stench if alcohol was so strong that I wrinkled my nose in disgust.
“Valerie,” he slurred, his eyes glassy.
My heart sank. What exactly is going on with my husband?
“Welcome home, Damian,” I forced a smile.
He staggered to the table, collapsing into his chair.
“What’s for dinner?” he growled, not waiting for an answer.
Mrs. Jenkins hastily served him a plate, her expression sympathetic.
As Damian devoured his food, I pushed mine around my plate, nausea rising.
“Damian, is everything okay?” I ventured. “You’ve been distant since… since I told you about the baby. And now, you’re drunk. I don’t understand you anymore.”
His gaze snapped to mine, a flicker of irritation.
“It’s just work, Valerie. Don’t worry about it.”
But I did worry. His reaction to my pregnancy had been unsettling.
One moment, we were ecstatic; the next, he withdrew.
I couldn’t understand why.
Wasn’t this what we wanted?
A family?
Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes as Damian pushed his plate away, his gaze already distant.
“I have an early meeting. Goodnight” he muttered, rising.
I watched him stumble out, feeling abandoned.
In our bedroom, I curled up, alone and lost. Damian laid on the extreme end of the bed, turning his back towards me. The weather was quite chilly, I needed to be cuddled.
I removed my little lace jacket, leaving only my short nightwear which exposed my thighs.
I moved towards Damian and slowly began to caress his chest. I unbuttoned his shirt and began to suck his little nipple, making imaginary round circles on them. Damian opened his eyes in response and pulled me into a hungry kiss.
His lips raveged mine, crushing my delicate lips. He stripped off my night gown, exposing my breasts. He sucked my nipples hungrily and I moaned loudly.
He turned me over with speed, landing above me, as he took of his shirt. He stared down at me for a while, then he stiffened.
Damian got away from my body and wore back his shirt.
“Damian, what’s wrong? Why did you stop?” I asked, with a bewildered look.
“Get dressed and go to bed, Val. We should not be doing this.” He grunted.
“Of course we should! You’re my husband for crying out loud. You have not touched me for weeks now. You were so excited just now, I know you want this. Why do you keep pushing me away? What have I done wrong?” I asked, my voice shaking.
“Go to bed. I need to sleep. I have an early meeting.” He finalized and left the room.
I spent the entire night crying my eyes out. My pillow was soaked with tears and I’m sure he could hear my sobs from the next room.
I made a firm resolve to do something about this by morning.
My marriage cannot continue like this. I deserved better and the baby growing inside me deserved better.