The Billionaire's Nanny

"Evelyn, please have a seat so we can discuss this," I asked in an attempt to calm her down. Knowing my wife well, I realized that talking to her would be the one thing that could make a difference. Evelyn could never be made to do anything by force.

"Lucas, what topic would you like to discuss? I'm expecting a baby!" she exclaimed, continuing to pace the spacious living area. "Do you even know what that implies for my career, young Lucas?"

I got up and moved in front of her to halt her pacing, telling her, "Baby, you should be happy; we're about to receive the best blessing of our lives in a few months."

For the second time this morning, she sobbed, "What the fuck do you mean by that, Lucas? What about my career that took me so long to create?"

I wrapped my arms around her waist gingerly, taking care to proceed slowly. She had been grumpy and extremely irritable for a few weeks, and I now knew that her hormones were playing tricks on her. I had to take extra care to avoid saying or doing anything that would aggravate her further.

"Hey, please don't cry." I stroked her thick brown hair and pleaded. I rocked her gently against my body as she effortlessly slid into my arms.

She sobbed softly on my chest, her words muffled as she said, "I'm sorry, I'm just so terrified."

"Let's sit; you don't have to be a baby," I said.

She gave me a nod, and I led her over to the couch I had been using before. She tried to curl up on the couch next to me, but I resisted her advances and gave my lap a gentle stroke. Taking the message, she moved to sit on my lap.

I put one hand around her and stroked her hair as she laid her head on my shoulder and wept softly. It devastated my heart to watch her scream in such a way, even though I understood that all of this stress was bad for her in the first trimester.

She continued to cry as she stated, "I don't know what to do."

"You know how much I love your job, and I would never force you to do anything that would harm it, you know that, right? We'll figure it out, sweetie; I promise we will."

She nodded slightly and smelled.

I put my palm to her stomach and said, "I just want us to give this a chance, and you know how children always bring so much happiness to a family; I'm sure this child will do the same for us."

Even though it didn't seem like anyone was developing in her stomach, I knew our child—regardless of size—was still there.

She lifted her head off my chest and stared at me, saying, "But we are happy."

I was aware that I needed to proceed cautiously, since that glance could quickly turn into a glare. Yes, we are, but wouldn't it be nice to have an additional happy medium in the house?

She remained silent for some time, and I waited for her to consider her response.

It took her nearly a minute to speak. "You're right, I'm being conceited; having a child would make our little family complete and ideal."

"No, baby, you're not being selfish. You've worked so hard for your career; it's good for you to think about it." I used the hand that was around her to make little circles on her back.

Her cheek had become less red, and she had stopped crying. Dried tears created a track from her eyes down to her chin. With her gaze fixed on mine, she extended her hand to caress my face tenderly.

She continued to stroke my face and questioned, "Why are you so perfect?"

I held her head and kissed her forehead, saying, "You make me perfect, baby." "I hate watching you weep, but I love you so much."

Her dejected expression softened into a tiny grin, and she planted a kiss on my lips. She was beaming broadly now, and I was pleased that I had brought such joy to her. "I love you too, very much."

She curled back into my arms, and we soon found ourselves dozing off in each other's embrace.

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Evelyn exclaimed at the doctor doing the ultrasound, "They're twins?!"

We had been informed that our little angel, who is now an angel, would be visiting us in a little over two months. I used to get excited and giddy every morning at the prospect that I would soon become a father. However, I was unable to say the same with Evelyn, who was irritable and sulky every day. I knew there was more going on, even though I made an effort to tell myself it was all in my head.

She was against having the child.

Evelyn was one of those people who could never disguise her feelings, and even if she could, I knew enough about her to be aware of her feelings for the unborn child.

It was difficult for me to see how she could not experience the same level of enjoyment that these children, who had not even arrived yet, were providing for us.

She opened her mouth to say something to the doctor again, but then I gripped her hand, and she stopped talking. Glancing aside, she gazed across the room.

With regret, I glanced at the physician and muttered the word "hormones."

He smiled and nodded, saying, "I know."

He adjusted his coat and took the file off the table. He added, "I'll leave you to get back into your clothes," and turned to exit the room.

That he gave Evelyn and me some time and realized we needed to communicate made me glad. She stopped me as I was about to begin by raising her hand and saying, "I don't want to talk to you."

I stretched out my hand, but she ignored it and climbed down the ultrasonography table. She took up her dress from the room's chair and found it difficult to zip it up. I moved to assist her in zipping up, but she swiftly spun around and gave me a glare.

"I blurted because I was growing angry at her lack of interest, and it didn't seem right that she was taking it out on me. Why are you even angry with me?

Her loud voice roared across the room, frightening me with the thought with the thought that she could startle other patients. "I don't know, maybe because I am carrying your crazy child, Lucas," she said. "It was hard enough when there was only one, but now that there are two of them, how am I meant to handle that?"

I was not hiding my anger. "Evelyn, you can't talk about our unborn children like that." Up until now, I had been as understanding as a man could be toward his pregnant wife, but now she was going too far.

At least she was smart enough to recall that "I am not going to have this conversation here in a hospital where everyone can hear us."

After I finished zipping her dress, the doctor returned to the room to give us some instructions and her prescription.

We didn't say anything to each other on the way back home; I faced my window while the driver faced the other side.

Our relationship became increasingly difficult over the next few months, and Evelyn rejected all of my attempts to mend it. As her belly continued to grow, she turned to self-hatred, and every time she looked in the mirror, I felt heartbroken.

We seldom spoke, and she only came to me when she wanted me to accompany her to the hospital. She would not even let me tell her how much I loved her and how having our children made her even more beautiful.

After giving birth, her attitude only got worse; she started to be inattentive and would spend hours moping and sobbing over her disfigured body.

She refused to breastfeed, so I didn't mind that the kids had to eat from a bottle, but what hurt more than anything was how she treated them like nothing at all.

After a few months with our new babies under our belts and with her attitude not changing, I finally could take it no longer and decided to face her.

I pounded the door shut behind me and said, "Evelyn, we need to talk."

I was sorry to see her smoking again, but she had just returned from a meeting with her manager and was sitting on the sofa with a half-empty glass of scotch, the place smelling somewhat of cigarettes.

"I assumed you gave up smoking? I paused in front of her and asked,

Lucas, what are you wanting? That's none of your business."

All I could do was beg her to see sense and come back to her senses. "What I want is to talk about our lives and about our family that's slowly falling apart each day," I added, my voice begging.

She would not even look at our little bundles of joy. I was stupid to assume that they would make her happy again; nothing had been right since the day she found out she was pregnant.

Even though I had to help my dad manage the business, I handled all of the childcare duties. My little sister Mia was the only one who could help me; I considered sending a nanny, but she declined.

Since the twins' birth, she has been a greater mother to them than Evelyn has been.

She stood up from the couch and said, "Well, I also want to chat, you know. I have a lot of things to say."

I finally believed that she would finally talk about what was bothering her so much that she had lost interest in our family.

"Evelyn, you know I'm always here to listen. Why are you so upset about kids? All they've ever done is make us happy."

"Like hell, they have; since I became pregnant, I have only had three shots, and they were all related to my pregnancy. I see a scarred creature in the mirror that I do not recognize."

She was not finished yet, though, as I cringed at her choice of words because it hurt me so deeply that it made her feel so awful about herself.

"At just 23 years old, my modeling career was about to soar to new heights when I unexpectedly became pregnant. She sobbed and dropped to the ground, covering her face with her hands. "I lost it all; do you realize that I lost it all, and it's all owing to them?"

I felt guilty for not doing more to reassure her that she was flawless even after giving birth, but it was all in the past. I had to be honest with her, or else I would lose her. I sank to the ground and waited for her to weep it all out.

I considered giving her a hug, but the last time I did that, she became even angrier. Finally, she stopped sobbing and turned to face me.

She said, "I need to get away from here; I need to breathe and be myself again," before I could say anything.

That's alright, sweetie. Tell me where you want to go, and I'll arrange a vacation for you."

She stopped me, sniffed, got up, and began her tense walking. "No," she said. "You don't get it."

I stood up as well, being cautious not to come too close as I followed her eyes.

"Alright, every time I see the kids, it brings back memories of what I lost. And I'm at my limit now. I want to leave, and I don't think I can ever love them."

Evelyn, what do you mean by that? Her words struck me like lightning, and I had to cling on to the nightstand to keep from falling back. Although I understand how painful it is for you, we cannot simply "want out" of raising our children."

She came to me on her own for the first time in months, stopping her pacing and holding my hand as she led me to the bed.

"Look, I discovered this couple; they want a child but don't have any; they'll do everything to obtain a child; and we have two that we don't even want," she said, forcing me to sit on the bed and clutching my hand as she spoke.

"Express yourself!" I yelled, taking my hand away from hers.

She said, "Okay, I'm sorry," and I knew she didn't mean it, but let's consider this: if we place the children for adoption, our family—just the two of us—would be joyful and wonderful once more.

I was horrified by what she was saying and could not believe what she was saying. "So you want to give away our kids for money?"

"Obviously not; we have an abundance of money. I simply believe that their family would love them more and everything would be content once more."

I got up to go, and she did the same. "You're drunk, Evelyn; sleep over it; when you wake up, you will understand how insane you sound right now."

"No, I'm not drunk at all. It felt like eons since she was this near me, but it was enough to stop me from leaving. "I only had one drink; just listen to me, please," she pleaded as she gave me a back hug.

I attempted to look away from her, but she held one hand and made me look at her. "Don't you want us to be perfect again?!" she asked as she turned around and moved in front of me. Just the two of us, Theodore and Olivia, are absent."

We were going back to a time when I couldn't understand her simple presence, and I knew I would have to fight to make the correct decision with her this close to me. She nestled into my neck and kissed me up to my chin.

"Don't you love me anymore?" She tilted her head and brought her lips to mine as I wrapped my arms around her waist. She pressed her lips against mine and asked, "

I did not even notice she had unbuttoned my dress shirt more than halfway, and I could feel the bulge rising in my pants. "I do, Evelyn; you know I do."

"This is the only way I'll ever be happy again, so please do it for me. Do you not want the best for me?She reached effortlessly into my pants and gave them a little pat.

"I do." I threw back my head and moaned.

"Then, if you would please, let's adopt them."

She arched her eyebrows in confusion, but the word adoption was all it took to bring me back to earth. I hurriedly shoved her away and buttoned my shirt.

"Lucas, what is wrong with you? Her expression had become frowny and perplexed.

"There's nothing wrong with me, but if you think I would give up my kids to appease you and make you happy, you've gone mad," I said as I buttoned my shirt and brushed past her to the door.

Her words hurt and halted me in my tracks: "Then choose."

I made sure there was enough space between us as I turned to face her once more. "What?"

She stopped to wipe her eyes and said, "You heard me; it's me or it's them; you either put them up for adoption or divorce me.".

When she said the word divorce, I'm sure my heart skipped a beat, but I got over it fast; she was clearly intoxicated, which was the only plausible explanation. "Evelyn, you're drunk; get some sleep," I said to her.

She stopped me as I started to go, saying, "Lucas, this isn't a joke. There are just two things you can do, and I'm leaving tonight if you walk out that door."

I had never been one to cry, but I could feel the bile rising in my throat. I loved her more than anything, but I also loved my children, and I could not give them up even if my life depended on it. I could not believe she was going to toss away five years of marriage just like that.

Evelyn had changed so much from the kind and compassionate model I had fallen in love with, but she was still watching me expectantly.

I walked over to Evelyn and said, "I don't know you anymore. Please don't do this."

She turned to face the window and lifted a hand to halt me, saying, "Save it." "Make your choice."

I felt dejected, but I forced a hand into my pocket and squared my shoulders, knowing that nothing I said would make her change her decision.

I gave her one more look before turning to face the door. I gripped the doorknob for a few seconds, thinking she could reconsider, but she did not even look at me.

"My lawyer will give you the divorce papers in a few days," I said to the woman I loved the most as I opened the door. It was a statement I never imagined I would ever make.