Married to the Cold Billionaire

Chapter 5

Catherine gripped the edge of the cold porcelain sink, her knuckles white as another wave of morning sickness subsided. Like clockwork, she had been startled awake by a churning stomach and a bitter taste in her throat. She felt hollow, her legs trembling from the exertion.

After rinsing her mouth and splashing cold water on her face, she retreated to the edge of her bed. She let her hand rest tentatively on her stomach. It was still flat, showing no outward sign of the life within, but she could feel the change in her very soul.

"Don't make it too hard for Mommy, okay?" she whispered into the silence of the room. "It’s just us, baby. We’re alone in this."

The isolation was becoming a heavy weight. She needed to visit her OB-GYN; her current prenatal vitamins clearly weren’t agreeing with her. She had briefly fantasized about asking Travis to go with her, but the memory of his snarled warnings from the night before acted like a bucket of ice water. She couldn’t stomach any more of his verbal barbs today.

Glancing at the clock, she saw it was only five in the morning. Sleep was a lost cause, so she slipped out of her room. She cast a lingering look at Travis’s closed door—the barrier between their two worlds—before heading down to the kitchen.

Lily and the other staff were already a blur of motion, the scent of brewing coffee and frying bacon beginning to fill the air.

"Good morning, Ma'am Catherine," Lily said, looking up with a surprised smile. "Can I get you some coffee? Or a glass of water?"

"Milk, please, Lily," Catherine replied, her hand instinctively shielding her midsection. "Coffee isn't... good for me right now."

"Of course! My apologies, Ma'am. I forgot for a moment."

As Catherine sipped the warm milk, she watched the rhythm of the kitchen. A spark of an idea flickered in her mind. Despite the situation, she wanted to reach out—not with words, but with the one thing she truly mastered: her cooking.

"Lily, do we have everything for Red Wine Braised Short Ribs?"

Lily’s eyes widened slightly. "Cravings, Ma'am?"

Catherine offered a sad, thin smile. "No. It’s for Travis."

She knew this was his favorite. Lianne had mentioned it countless times back when she used to ask Catherine to prepare the demi-glace and slow-cook the beef until it was fork-tender for him, passing the meals off as her own. Unlike her cousin, Catherine was a trained culinary artist. She had once dreamed of owning a small, bustling bistro.

"Since you've handled breakfast, I’ll take care of his lunch," Catherine said, her voice dropping to a plea. "But please... don't tell him I made it. He might not touch it if he knows."

Lily nodded silently, stepping aside. Catherine poured her heart into the pot, searing the meat until perfectly browned and simmering it in a rich reduction of Cabernet, thyme, and roasted root vegetables. However, the smell of the aromatics, which she usually loved, now made her nose wrinkle in disgust. She fought through the nausea, her devotion to the task outweighing her physical discomfort.

When it was finished, she plated the succulent ribs over a bed of creamy, garlic-infused polenta with the precision of a professional chef, ensuring the presentation was perfect. She tucked the container into a paper bag.

"I’m going back up, Lily. I don't want to ruin his morning by being in his way. Please make sure he takes this when he leaves for the office."

Catherine spent the next hour preparing for her doctor’s appointment. She chose a simple off-shoulder dress and let her long hair cascade down her shoulders. A swipe of lipstick was her only armor.

She waited by the window until she saw the gates swing open and Travis’s car disappear into the morning traffic. Only then did she head down to say goodbye to Lily. But as she entered the dining room, she stopped dead.

The paper bag sat alone on the table. Unmoved. Untouched.

It felt as though a giant hand had reached into her chest and squeezed her heart until it bled. Had he found out? Had he rejected her peace offering with the same coldness he showed her?

"Oh, Ma'am Catherine," Lily’s voice was soft, filled with a sudden, uncomfortable pity.

"Did he... did he leave already?" Catherine asked, her voice small.

Lily nodded, her eyes shifting to the floor. "It seems Sir Travis forgot to take his lunch."

Forgot. The word felt like a lie meant to protect her, but Catherine seized it anyway. It was better than the alternative.

"I'm heading out anyway," Catherine said, her resolve suddenly hardening. She couldn't let her hard work go to waste. "I’ll drop it off at his office on my way to the clinic."

"Wait, Ma'am! I can have Damien drive it over—"

"No, Lily. It’s fine. I’m passing right by the Ashford Tower anyway," Catherine interrupted with a finality to her tone.

She didn't want to see him. She would just leave it with his secretary and vanish. But as she hugged the paper bag to her chest, she felt a strange, flickering hope that perhaps, if he just tasted the depth of flavor in every bite, he might feel the care she had poured into it.