The billionaire unexpected love

  "Congratulations and welcome to the family!"

 The room erupted with laughter and cheers, clinking glasses, and the sound of celebratory chatter. The scent of fresh roses and expensive wine lingered in the air, mingling with the aroma of a just-unwrapped fruitcake.

The living room, where May had spent countless evenings with her in-laws, now looked like a scene from someone else's celebration - strangers in familiar clothing. "I can't believe my son got someone pregnant," her mother-in-law continued, voice practically glowing with joy.

 "I always knew you were not the problem. It was that woman with bad luck you got married to. Now that you are with a better woman, you see what's happening!"

 In the hallway, just outside the room, May clutched a small box wrapped with a golden ribbon, the cake she had personally ordered earlier that day. Her heels clicked softly against the marble tiles as she stepped closer, her heart fluttering with excitement - and confusion. Her second wedding anniversary. She thought they forgot. Maybe this was all a surprise? She stepped into the room with a soft smile.

 "Hello Mom," she said brightly, trying to match the mood in the room. "What's the cause of this joyous mood, is it because of our 2nd wedding anniversary that's today?" The silence that followed was suffocating. As if a spell had been broken, heads turned.

 Her mother-in-law scoffed, slowly turning toward her, face curled in distaste. "Who is your mother?" she snapped. Her voice was ice dipped in venom. "Don't ever call me mother." May's breath caught.

 Her hands gripped the cake box tighter as her chest began to rise and fall unevenly. She blinked rapidly, the warmth in her eyes now prickling with confusion. Pain. She was about to speak, to ask what was going on - but before she could utter a word, she heard a voice.

 A tiny, smug voice. "Mother, don't get so worked up, remember you still have to play with your grandchildren." May's head snapped in the direction of the voice. And her blood ran cold. Chrissy. Her best friend. Her confidante. The one she had poured her soul out to.

Sitting on the same couch May had sat on countless times during family dinners. Sitting like she belonged. Her belly - swollen. Her eyes - unapologetic. Why was Chrissy in her house? What is she saying about grandchildren? The questions raced through her mind faster than she could think of them, each one heavier than the last. Her knees felt weak. She opened her mouth to demand answers, to scream even - but her mother-in-law cut her off with another sickeningly sweet remark. "I know right, my very good daughter-in-law. Don't worry, I'll live long enough to take care of my grandchildren."

 Grandchildren. The word echoed in May's ears like a cruel joke. Her heart pounded. Her lips quivered. Her best friend - the one she always stood behind so she could shine - was now glowing in her place. In her house.

Carrying a child that wasn't hers. Chrissy stood slowly, one hand protectively cradling her stomach, the other pressing into the lower part of her back like the weight of the secret she'd been hiding finally settled. "May," she said, voice soft but laced with arrogance, "can you please excuse us? You are increasing mother's blood pressure and disturbing my baby as well with your presence." May could feel the heat rising behind her eyes. Her vision blurred with unshed tears.

 Then, as if on cue, her husband - the man she had loved, fought for, prayed with - stepped forward from Chrissy's side and held her waist. The intimacy of that touch was deliberate, possessive. "Sorry, babe," he said to Chrissy. Babe. That word - once hers - now belonged to someone else.