The Billionaire baby mama

Gerald Pov

The pattering sounds of rain on the restaurant's glass windows kept me company while I waited for her.

The sound was becoming increasingly unsettling, bringing back memories as I gazed out the window, far out into the outer area, observing the dark night that appeared to have been miraculously lit by the porch lights that stood out.

My fingers pounded on the circular table as I glanced out the window, wondering why Caroline had decided to meet me here at this hour.

We'd been dating for about two years, and she knew I'd rather meet with her at my house or workplace than in a public setting like this.

 I carefully pulled at my neck tie, realising that it had been choking me for the past 10 minutes as I sat here gulping saliva just to get by.

The waitress with the tag name "Celeste" approaches me for the second time since I entered, a large inescapable smile forming across her thin lips.

"Would you like to order now, sir?" She asks gently.

I returned her grin before responding, "No thanks, I'm actually waiting for someone." I knew I should have informed her I was waiting for someone when she initially asked, rather than the 'no, I'm fine' response I gave her earlier.

I noted her disappointed expression as her lips curled into a surprised 'Oh', her smile slipping down her lips before she immediately brought them back and gave me a beautiful smile.

"Okay, sir," she said with a little bow of her head before turning around and leaving. I refocused my sight on the table, debating whether to finally browse through the menu.

I had no idea why I was excited this evening. It was customary to go out to dine with your girlfriend, but it took on a different meaning when she called you in the middle of the night and asked you to meet her at some odd restaurant.

That was not Caroline at all. She was usually straightforward and startling.

Just as Celeste's thudding heels faded away from the room, I heard another familiar shoe clicking from up ahead.

It was difficult to miss that sound; I could recognise those footfalls anywhere, at any time. I slowly looked up to see her standing at the restaurant's glass doors, one hand pushing the door closed and the other clutching her purse tightly in front of her.

She looked lovely, and I couldn't take my gaze away from her. The red gown she wore highlighted her body curves in the ideal places, with her cleavage on full display as the long V-neckline of her dress stood out.

Her lips are covered in vivid red lipstick, and her eyelashes are thick with black mascara.

Her blond hair is styled such that the right side falls over her right eye in a wavy manner, with the ends reaching her slender, pointed shoulders.

Caroline was always a fashionable woman when we started dating, and I never had any issues with her dress or makeup choices.

She could dress up in a bra and underwear and stroll into an estate mall, and I'd still love her. She looked across the room, attempting to pick me out, and when her eyes met mine, I couldn't help but see the despair in them.

She moves quickly towards our table, her hand reaching up to smooth back her falling hair as she closes in on me.

She pulls back a chair before I can even jump up and retrieve it for her, her gaze directed away from me. I knew right away that something was awry.

Caroline has always enjoyed receiving attention, particularly from her partner in public places. I couldn't quite grasp why she was acting so strangely tonight.

"Hey," I said anxiously, "are you okay?" She finally glances up at me and smiles before nodding her head and saying, "Yeah." I nodded gently before sitting back into my chair and inhaling softly.

"What would you like to have?" I asked, intending to call the waitress over.

"Don't, Gerald," she adds, holding up her hand. "I. . . . . I actually came here to tell you something important"

The moment the words left her mouth, I felt like I'd been hit by a space brick. Was she going to break up with me? Tell me she can't do it anymore because I don't meet her ideal boyfriend profile? She had flown to Chicago just three weeks before for a business meeting. She had been OK the night before she went, as had we.

I still couldn't get the unending love making we had that night before she went away the next morning out of my head.

We made love as if it were our first and last. I stared into her eyes and told her how much I loved her, and she responded.

She had returned from Chicago yesterday evening, and I only found out when she called and requested us to meet at this restaurant.

She had told me she just wanted to see me. I was wondering what was so urgent that she couldn't wait to come by the office or my house today and had to pull me down here.

I tried to slow down my thoughts. Maybe she just had a rough day and wasn't up for tiny formals, and she'd rather I ordered for her. I knew what she preferred.

"Okay," I said, my lips lined, "how was your business trip?"

"I'm pregnant, Gerald," she explained.

The words flowed naturally from her mouth, but there was more to them as I studied her huge ocean blue eyes.