My billionaire boyfriend, Caleb Vance, hates children. But I’m accidentally pregnant. One night, I tried to test the waters. His hand rested lazily on my waist as he joked, "What, are you pregnant?" I panicked and denied it immediately. He stroked my hair, his voice smooth and dangerous. "Good girl. We don't need kids." But the test was positive. Then, I overheard a conversation at a boutique: "Lydia has been with Caleb for years and still hasn't gotten a ring. She’s dreaming if she thinks she’ll ever marry into the Vance family." "She’s stupid. Why doesn't she just get pregnant and force his hand?" "You don't know Caleb Vance. He despises illegitimate children. He’s the kind of man who would make both problems disappear." For the sake of my life and my baby, I spent the night crafting my exit strategy. I left a note: Two weeks later, I was hiding in a small coastal town in the South. I had just finished chatting with a pregnant neighbor about morning sickness when a pair of strong arms pulled me into a hard chest. The man’s voice was raspy, heavy with exhaustion. "Baby, who invented the word 'canary'? Since when am I not your boyfriend?" 1 "This baby is so cute." Fresh from the shower, I sat on the edge of the bed scrolling through TikTok. Caleb’s long fingers combed through my damp hair, massaging my scalp. It felt amazing. Over the hum of the Dyson dryer, he gave a noncommittal "Mhm." I pressed on, stubborn. "Don't you think she's cute? Look at those cheeks!" He glanced at my phone screen but didn't stop drying my hair. "Baby, that's the fifth time you've asked me that tonight. Are you pregnant?" My heart stopped. I never talked about kids. Bringing it up five times in one night was a red flag the size of Texas. I forced a casual tone. "No way. We're super careful. It's just the algorithm. I liked one baby video and now my feed is full of them. They're all adorable, don't you think?" Click. The dryer stopped. The silence in the room was deafening. Caleb leaned down and kissed the top of my head. "Babe, you don't have to beat around the bush. You can just ask me." "I don't like kids. We aren't having them. Okay?" So that was it. I fought the urge to cover my stomach and quickly rolled under the duvet. "Goodnight." Caleb turned off the lights. The mattress dipped as he climbed in beside me. He pulled me into his arms. His voice was gentle. "Are you mad?" "No." "Liar." "Really, I'm not." He kissed my earlobe, a soft sigh escaping his lips. "Baby, I really just don't like children. Can you just indulge me on this one thing?" But... In the moonlight filtering through the curtains, I could see my handbag hanging on the coat rack. It swayed slightly in the AC breeze. Peeking out of the side pocket was the corner of a white paper. It was the lab report I got today. Patient Status: Positive for Pregnancy. 2 I was pregnant. And I had no idea how. We used protection every single time. Every. Single. Time. I hadn't been with anyone else. And even if I had, I wouldn't be stupid enough to skip protection. I’ve always had irregular cycles. Two days ago, Caleb noticed. "Late again this month?" I was reading a book, lying on my stomach. "It's chronic. It's fine." He gripped my ankle, his thumb rubbing the bone. "It's been years, Lydia. You need to take better care of yourself." "Yeah, yeah. I'll go to the doctor this week." I thought it would just be a routine checkup, maybe some new pills to regulate my hormones. Instead, I got referred from Endocrinology to OB-GYN. And walked out with a positive pregnancy test. I frantically Googled, scrolling through endless Reddit threads until I found the answer: Micro-tears. Condom failure without realizing it. I stood outside the clinic, clutching the paper, watching the busy New York street. Inside me was just a cluster of cells the size of a lentil. It didn't even have a heartbeat yet. But I swear I could hear a second rhythm syncing with mine. Thump-thump. Thump-thump. It was my blood. It was my child. 3 Caleb had a crisis with his overseas division and had to fly out. Before leaving, he was in full "dad mode": "No ice cream. Cut down on the junk food. Eat proper meals while I'm gone. Don't go wandering around at night." I pushed him toward the door. "I know, I know! Go make your millions." Caleb scooped me up and carried me into the elevator. I panicked. "What are you doing?" He pinched my cheek. "Since you're so eager to get rid of me, I decided to take you with me." I shrieked. "No! I'm not going!" Caleb ignored me. He buckled me into the backseat of the Maybach. I tried to reason with him. "I really don't want to go. I don't know anything about your business. I'll just be bored in the hotel." Whenever we were in the car together, the driver knew to raise the privacy partition. Without witnesses, Caleb had no filter. He ran his thumb over my cheekbone. "I need you for stress relief." I: "..." What a valid, corporate reason. In the past, I would have rolled my eyes and gone along with it. But now... I was pregnant. I whispered, "Can't you just... handle it yourself?" "No." My voice got smaller. "You're rich. You can find plenty of willing volunteers in London. Or you could call..." Before I could finish, Caleb’s eyes narrowed. He grabbed my chin, forcing me to look at him. His voice was slow, a terrifyingly gentle purr. "What did you just say, Lydia? I didn't quite catch that." Thank god I was wearing long sleeves so he couldn't see the goosebumps erupting on my arms. I shook my head. "Nothing. I didn't say anything." I turned to look out the window. This sucks. My nails dug into my palm. I didn't want to go to a foreign country. I didn't want to sit in a hotel room waiting for him. I wanted to be in my own bed, safe. The city blurred past. Twenty-five-year-old Lydia felt like a dead leaf clinging to a branch in a winter storm. One gust of wind, and I’d be gone. Caleb broke the silence. He pulled me into his side. "I was joking. If you don't want to go, you don't have to." I blinked slowly. He rested his chin on my shoulder. "Your passport is at home. I just wanted you to see me off at the airport." I realized then that if he really wanted to take me, he would have grabbed my bag. His voice was muffled against my hair. "I don't like it when you try to push me away. And I really didn't like what you said just now. Be good, Lydia. Behave." 4 After a ten-minute make-out session in the VIP drop-off lane, Caleb finally let me go. He boarded his flight. I took the car back. I touched my swollen lips in the rearview mirror. My reflection looked flushed, alive. Then I touched my flat stomach. I didn't know how to navigate this new reality with Caleb. We weren't married. He hated kids. This baby was an accident. Logically, it should be removed. A quick procedure, and my life goes back to normal. But... I wanted it. I took a deep breath and sent Caleb a text. 【I have something to tell you when you get back.】 He would be gone for a week. That gave me seven days to prepare. If Caleb accepted the baby, we could get married. If he didn't... I would disappear. I would never let him see me again. 5 On the third day of Caleb’s trip, my anxiety was peaking. I went shopping to distract myself. I was in a dressing room at a high-end boutique, trying on fall coats. I used to come here when I was a teenager, saving up my allowance to buy one nice thing. Later, when Caleb found out I liked the brand, he started buying out the new collections for me. But I preferred shopping for myself. As I zipped up a trench coat, I heard voices outside the curtain. They were talking about Caleb. And me. "Speaking of the Miller family, Lydia has been with Caleb for five years now. Still no ring?" "Marrying into that level of wealth? Please. Maybe back when the Miller family still had money, she had a shot. Now she's just an orphan living off Caleb. He's just playing with her." My fingers froze on the zipper. "Maybe she should just get pregnant. Trap him." Pregnant. My eyes darted to my bag in the corner. The one holding the ultrasound appointment card. "Ha! You're funny. Caleb Vance hates illegitimate kids more than anything. Remember his dad? That whole scandal? Caleb would make her get rid of it. Or worse." "Yeah, he's ruthless. Lydia better be careful, or she'll end up a headline." I took off the coat and changed back into my clothes. When I walked out, the gossipers went silent. "Lydia? How long have you been there?" I smiled. "Longer than you." I walked out without waiting for a reaction. 6 I sat on the swing on the terrace, staring at the fallen leaves. Caleb FaceTimed me. It was morning where he was. The sunrise behind him was fiery red. "You went out?" he asked. "How did you know?" "You're not wearing the pajamas you slept in. Did you have fun?" "It was okay." "Rest up. I'll be back in four days. Can't you tell me the news now?" "No. In person." We talked for a bit before he had to go to a meeting. The silence of the house pressed in on me. Not married. Pregnant. Hates kids. Ruthless. Those words circled my mind like vultures. I stood up. The sun had set. I found a notepad and wrote a message. I bought a burner phone and a new SIM card online. The next day, I left my tracked iPhone on the nightstand. I took only my ID and some cash. I couldn't wait for him to come back. I couldn't risk it. 7 The South. Rain. The forecast said it would rain for another week. I hated gloomy weather, but I had to go to the clinic. I was six weeks along. I needed to check my progesterone levels. Stay healthy, little bean. I rubbed my belly while waiting for a cab. A pregnant woman walked by with a toddler and her husband. She noticed me staring. "New to the neighborhood?" she asked kindly. "Yes, just moved here." "I haven't seen you around. Where are you from?" "New York. I came here for a quiet place to... rest." "Oh! Are you expecting? Is it your first? Let me tell you, you need to watch your iron levels..." She chatted happily until my ride arrived. "Take care!" I waved and got into the backseat. "Tail number 1234," I muttered to the driver, checking my phone for the vitamins she recommended. Wait. The car wasn't moving. The driver had gotten out. And there was someone else in the backseat with me. Panic spiked in my chest. Black cab? Kidnapping? I fumbled for the door handle, but a strong arm wrapped around my waist and pulled me back. The scent of bitter orange and expensive tobacco filled the small space. A man’s lips brushed the sensitive skin of my neck. "Baby, ghosting me is a very bad habit. Have I been too nice to you? Did you forget who I am?" It was him. I froze. Caleb bit my shoulder, hard enough to sting. He pulled me into his lap. "I didn't ghost," I stammered. "I left a note." Caleb laughed, a low, dark sound. "Baby, have you ever seen a canary leave a resignation letter?" He leaned in, his breath hot on my ear. "Guess what happens to canaries who try to fly away?" His hand moved to my wrist, his fingers tracing my pulse. He’s going to lock me up. The golden cage in the basement. "Caleb..." my voice shook. "Hm?" "I'll go back. I won't run again. Please don't..." I buried my face in his chest, listening to his heart hammering against my ear. Thump. Thump. Thump. It was racing. Normally, I knew how to calm him down. But Caleb wasn't interested in sex as a peacemaker. He preferred genuine affection. When we first started dating, he got jealous of a guy friend. I tried to seduce him to make him forget. He got angrier and left for a week. "Baby, I don't want you to use your body as a bargaining chip," he had said when he returned. Now, his hand rested on my back, heavy and still. The silence stretched until I couldn't breathe. I looked up. Caleb’s eyes were black pools of exhaustion. He looked like he hadn't slept in days. "Baby," he rasped. "You weren't like this before." Wasn't I? "Lydia, I am your boyfriend. Not your sponsor. Is being with me... that exhausting?"
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