His Baby, My Revenge

Chapter Two

Erin's POV

After driving around aimlessly for hours, I finally returned home, seeing both cars absent from the driveway.

The house smelt of Ophelia’s lingering perfume, and the moment I smelt it, images of what I’d seen earlier flooded my mind, and I rushed to the toilet to vomit again.

Needing a distraction, I lit all the candles in the house and opened any remaining windows in the hope of airing out the traitorous smell.

The hours spent driving around gave me clarity.

Rowan was simply playing pretend with me. I was yesterday’s news, and a problem that he’d deal with in three months’ time, but he had forgotten who he married. I grew up in a strict, Christian household, but the moment I turned eighteen, I rebelled.

Rowan and I met shortly after breaking free from my parents’ traditions when I was working as a stripper at the local club. Despite being so young, I was like the mother hen around there. No one messed with the girls while I was working.

While I was publicly known as a problem, Rowan kept his image pristine to the rest of the world. No one knew of his alcohol problems, sports gambling, and love for strippers.

When his father gave him an ultimatum, me or the company, he chose the company without a second thought, keeping me his dirty little secret.

Eventually the truth of what he’d done had come out, but we were young, and in love, so instead of continuing down the path I was on… I cleaned up my life to become the perfect wife.

But the girl I suppressed wasn’t killed off, just buried, and he was about to realize just who he’d f****d over.

I carried in the groceries I’d purchased earlier, beginning to cook his favorite meal. I’d serve him everything except for the news that I was pregnant. That bombshell would come much later.

The steaks were marinated and ready to sear in butter. Garlic and chive mashed potatoes were baking in the oven, and roasted Parmesan green beans sat in a ridiculously expensive white dish, ready to be cooked.

It looked like the perfect meal made for a perfect husband….

“Rin,” Rowan called out, and I took a deep breath, forcing a smile onto my face, “In here,” I called from the kitchen.

Rowan walked in, his sandy, blonde hair combed perfectly, and an easy smile on his handsome face. Soft brown eyes met mine, and he leaned down over my shoulder, pressing a kiss to my cheek, “What’s all of this?” his briefcase clattered to the ground as he wrapped his arms around my body.

His touch felt so wrong. The images of those same hands against Ophelia’s cheek made bile rise in my throat, but I forced it back down.

“You’ve just been working so hard lately at the company, I figured I’d treat you to a special dinner.”

He hummed softly, “I don’t deserve you, baby.” The tone of his voice was soft, not giving away the truth that he truly didn’t deserve me. He didn’t feel guilty of what he was doing behind my back.

“Why don’t you go shower, and by the time you’re finished, dinner will be ready,” I moved away from him, leaning over the oven to peek inside as my guise for the sudden movement.

“I’ll be back in a bit. Would you mind pouring us some wine?” Rowan grabbed the discarded briefcase and headed towards the steps.

“Of course.” I faked a smile, concocting the perfect plan. Rummaging through the cabinet where I kept our medication, I found a few old Ambien and crushed them up before adding them to the bottle of wine.

I quickly poured him a glass of wine, while adding cranberry juice to mine. The color was almost identical as I sat the glasses onto the table and headed out to plate our dinner.

He returned freshly showered and in comfortable clothing.

At first glance, I thought about how handsome he was, but it only took a moment for my mind to remind me of what I’d seen, and that attraction quickly transformed into disgust.

Rowan dropped into his seat, and as his dutiful wife, I brought his plate to the table, sitting it directly in front of him, “Thank you, baby.”

I smiled, saying nothing as I returned to grab my own plate.

“How was your day?” I probed, knowing the answer, but seeing exactly what he’d say now that I knew the truth.

“It was quite annoying. There was a client this morning who was trying to renegotiate contracts that had been signed for almost an entire year now. I got so frustrated, I ended up having to step out for a bit and head to the gym,” Rowan shook his head.

“Were you able to let off some steam and return with a clear head?”

The steam he let off was f*****g my best friend, but I wasn’t supposed to know that.

He chuckled, “Nothing the gym can’t fix. How was your day?”

I beg to differ.

“I spent most of the day at the office, but I wasn’t feeling too well, so I ended up leaving early and spent some time reading in the park.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t just come home,” he arched a brow, studying me.

I shrugged, “The weather today was beautiful, and when I drove past the park, it was surprisingly empty. Not to mention I picked up a new book last week that I haven’t had time to start.”

“You do realize that I’ve given you the okay to quit your job?” Rowan lifts his glass of wine, sipping on it with a smile as if he’s not planning to divorce me in three months’ time.

“You know I need to keep busy,” I forced a smile, sipping on my juice. “If I sat here all day, I’d probably drive you mad.”

Rowan chuckled again, finishing off his wine, and I quickly grabbed the bottle, refilling his glass. “I would much prefer you be a trophy wife.”

Was that what Ophelia would be to him? A trophy wife?

Ophelia Hillcrest was from an affluent family with old money. She was a trust fund baby with no desire or need to ever contribute anything more than her pretty face to society. She had the luxury of becoming a trophy wife.

If I had followed the path Rowan wanted, I would be left penniless when this was all over.

I sipped my juice, trying to come up with something to say that wouldn’t raise suspicions.

“I am not trophy wife material,” I tried to giggle, but even that sounded off.

Rowan lifted his glass, “I’ll toast to that. But you know what?” our glasses clinked together, and a smile spread on my face, “It doesn’t matter in the long run.”

No, it doesn’t matter because you plan to divorce me and run off with my best friend.

The anger that I’d been suppressing was back, and I needed to keep it down for a bit longer.

I’m not sure who I’m angrier with…. Myself… or him. He’d become such a good actor that I hadn’t picked up on the truth that was right in front of my eyes.

I watched as Rowan’s movements grew sluggish, and he yawned repeatedly, “My,” he blinked, sounding groggy, “I didn’t realize how tired I was.”

“It was probably from hitting the gym twice in one day.”

His eyes widened for a fraction of a second before he chuckled, “Yeah,” Rowan’s head nodded slowly, “You’re probably right,” he finished off the remainder of his wine. “I’m so sorry to do this, but do you mind if I go lie down?”

“Of course not,” I shook my head. “Get some rest.”

He disappeared, and I rushed around, cleaning up the mess from dinner before tiptoeing up the steps to check if he was asleep.

Sure enough, he was snoring loudly as I stepped into our room. I waited for what felt like hours to ensure he was actually asleep before beginning the first step to my revenge.