CHAPTER TWELVE

Chapter Twelve

Wanda stirred from her sleep, her eyes fluttering open as she felt Michael’s warm touch tracing the curves of her body. He was gentle, his fingertips brushing over her skin with the kind of intimacy that made her heart quicken. For a brief moment, she allowed herself to relax into his embrace, her mind drifting away from the recent tensions and the misunderstandings that had clouded their honeymoon.

Michael’s lips pressed against her neck, trailing soft kisses that sent shivers down her spine. Wanda turned to face him, her breath hitching as his hands roamed over her, pulling her closer. There was a hunger in his touch, a need that he was trying to communicate through the delicate caresses and the heat of his skin against hers.

Wanda’s body responded instinctively, her own desire flaring as she let Michael guide her. Their movements were slow at first, tentative, as if testing the waters of their fragile connection. But just as things began to heat up, Wanda’s stomach twisted violently, the now-familiar wave of nausea crashing over her with brutal force.

She pulled away abruptly, her hand flying to her mouth as she gagged. “Michael, wait—” she gasped, but it was too late. She lurched forward, retching uncontrollably as her body rebelled against her. The contents of her stomach spilled onto the bed, staining the pristine sheets with the sour remnants of last night’s dinner.

Michael recoiled, his expression shifting from shock to anger in an instant. “Wanda, what the hell?” he snapped, his voice cutting through the room like a whip. He jumped up from the bed, his disgust palpable as he looked at the mess. “For God’s sake, can’t you control yourself?”

Wanda’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment, her eyes brimming with tears as she stumbled out of bed. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice cracking under the weight of her shame. She rushed to the bathroom, her hands trembling as she splashed cold water on her face, trying to steady herself. The tears came harder, a mix of humiliation and confusion. She had no idea why she felt so ill, why her body seemed determined to betray her at every turn.

Michael paced the room, his anger simmering just below the surface. He stared at the stained bed, his frustration mounting as he tried to make sense of the morning’s disastrous turn. “This is ridiculous,” he muttered to himself, running a hand through his hair. “I can’t do this anymore.”

Wanda emerged from the bathroom, her face pale and her eyes red from crying. She avoided Michael’s gaze, too ashamed to face the disappointment she knew she’d find there. “I didn’t mean to ruin things,” she said softly, her voice barely audible. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

Michael’s expression hardened. “You’re sick, Wanda,” he said bluntly. “And this honeymoon is a disaster. We’re going back to London. I can’t stay here and pretend everything is fine when it’s clearly not.”

Wanda nodded, biting her lip to keep the tears at bay. She wanted to argue, to ask for more time, but she knew it would be pointless. Michael had already made up his mind, and there was no changing it. She turned away, swallowing the lump in her throat as she began packing her things. The room that had once felt like a sanctuary now felt like a prison, each corner a reminder of the failed attempt at salvaging their fractured relationship.

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Back in London, Anderson was facing his own battle. He sat at the head of the long boardroom table, his eyes scanning the faces of the gathered board members. The tension in the room was palpable, a silent undercurrent of dissent that had been building for weeks. Anderson had tried to keep his focus on the company, but his mind was constantly drifting back to Wanda, his thoughts clouded by regret and longing.

One of the senior board members cleared his throat, breaking the uneasy silence. “Mr. Anderson, it’s come to our attention that your recent behavior has been affecting your performance as CEO,” he began, his tone measured but firm. “Several of us are concerned that you’re no longer fit to lead this company effectively.”

Anderson’s jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing as he took in the veiled accusations. “Are you suggesting that I step down?” he asked, his voice cold and edged with challenge. He could feel the room shift, the tension heightening as the board members exchanged nervous glances.

The senior member continued, undeterred. “We believe that a temporary leave of absence would be in the best interest of the company. It’s clear that your personal issues are impacting your decision-making, and we need strong, focused leadership right now.”

Anderson slammed his hand down on the table, the sound echoing through the room like a gunshot. “I am the majority shareholder of this company,” he snapped, his voice rising with anger. “And I will not be sidelined by anyone, especially not because of my personal life. My position here is not up for negotiation.”

He stared down each board member, daring them to challenge his authority. The room fell silent, the tension thick as Anderson asserted his dominance. He knew they were right—his mind wasn’t fully on the company, and his performance had slipped. But the thought of losing control, of being seen as weak, was unacceptable.

“Meeting adjourned,” Anderson barked, dismissing the board with a wave of his hand. He watched them file out, his anger simmering as he contemplated his next move. He couldn’t afford to lose his grip on the company, not now, when everything else in his life was spiraling out of control. He needed to regain his focus, to prove to everyone—and to himself—that he was still in command.

As the last board member exited, Anderson leaned back in his chair, his mind racing. He had to find a way to bring Wanda back, to fix the mess that his life had become. But with each passing day, the path forward seemed more uncertain, the distance between him and the woman he loved growing wider.

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Back in London, Wanda sat in the sterile waiting room of the hospital, her fingers nervously fidgeting with the hem of her coat. She had decided to see a doctor after the constant bouts of nausea and dizziness had refused to subside, hoping to find some explanation for her sudden illness. She stared at the white walls, the clinical smell of antiseptic filling her nose as she waited for the results of her tests.

The door to the examination room opened, and the doctor stepped inside, a clipboard in hand. “Mrs. Sykes, thank you for waiting,” he said, his expression calm and professional as he took a seat across from her. “We’ve reviewed your symptoms and run some tests. I’m pleased to inform you that there’s nothing seriously wrong with your health.”

Wanda let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding, relief washing over her. “So, what’s causing this?” she asked, her voice laced with concern. “I’ve been feeling so awful, I thought—”

The doctor smiled gently, setting the clipboard down. “Mrs. Sykes, the reason for your symptoms is that you’re pregnant. About five weeks along, from what we can determine.”

Wanda’s eyes widened, her mind struggling to process the words. Pregnant. The realization hit her like a tidal wave, a mix of emotions crashing over her all at once. Surprise, fear, a flicker of joy, and an overwhelming sense of uncertainty. She pressed a hand to her stomach, as if to feel the truth of it beneath her skin.

Pregnant. With Michael’s child—or was it Anderson’s?

The doctor continued speaking, but Wanda barely heard him, her thoughts swirling in a dizzying loop. How was she going to tell Michael? And what did this mean for the fragile future they were trying to build together?

“Thank you,” she murmured, standing up on shaky legs as she left the office. She walked out into the brisk London air, her mind spinning with the revelation. The city bustled around her, indifferent to the life-changing news she had just received.

Wanda placed a hand over her abdomen, a protective gesture as she tried to steady her thoughts. She needed to figure out what to do next, how to navigate the maze of her complicated relationships and the uncharted territory of impending motherhood.

As she stood there on the crowded street, Wanda knew one thing for certain: her life was about to change in ways she couldn’t yet comprehend. And as she turned towards home, she felt the first stirrings of a new, uncertain hope.