The Billionaire's Son: Pregnant with My Ex's Baby

Chapter 7

[Ava]

The ticking of the ornate clock on the wall seemed unnaturally loud in the plush confines of the law office. I shifted uncomfortably in the leather chair, my fingers absently tracing the embossed business card I'd been given: "Rachel Goldstein, Family Law Specialist."

I'd barely slept last night, my mind a whirlwind of memories and fears. Ethan's face when he'd realized Oliver was his son. The intensity in his eyes as he'd demanded answers. The way my traitorous body had responded to his proximity, even after all these years.

"Ms. Sinclair?" Rachel's voice cut through my reverie. "Are you all right?"

I blinked, forcing myself to focus on the woman across the desk. Rachel Goldstein was a powerhouse in stilettos, her sharp grey suit a stark contrast to her warm brown eyes. She'd come highly recommended, known for her ability to handle even the most contentious custody battles with grace and ruthless efficiency.

"I'm fine," I lied, straightening in my seat. "Just... processing everything, I suppose."

Rachel nodded, her expression sympathetic but professional. "Of course. Finding out that your ex-husband has discovered the existence of your child after five years is certainly a lot to take in. Why don't you walk me through what happened at the gala?"

I took a deep breath, recounting the events of that fateful night. As I spoke, I could almost feel Ethan's presence again, the heat of his body as he'd cornered me in that alcove, the barely contained fury in his voice as he'd demanded answers.

"And now he's insisting on this brunch," I finished, my voice trembling slightly. "I'm terrified of what he might do, Rachel. What if he tries to take Oliver away from me?"

Rachel leaned back in her chair, her brow furrowed in thought. "Based on what you've told me, Ms. Sinclair, I don't think you need to worry about Mr. Blackwood gaining full custody. The courts generally favor the primary caregiver, especially in cases where one parent has been absent for an extended period – even if that absence wasn't by choice."

I felt some of the tension leave my body at her words, but Rachel held up a hand, her expression cautious. "However, we need to be prepared for the possibility that Mr. Blackwood may seek joint custody or significant visitation rights. Given that he's only just learned of Oliver's existence, the court may be sympathetic to his desire to establish a relationship with his son."

The thought of sharing Oliver, of having to coordinate schedules and holidays with Ethan, made my stomach churn. "But he doesn't know Oliver," I protested. "He has no idea what he likes, what he's afraid of, what makes him laugh. How can the court just hand over my son to a virtual stranger?"

Rachel's expression softened. "Ava – may I call you Ava? – I understand your concerns. But from a legal standpoint, Mr. Blackwood has rights as Oliver's biological father. The fact that he's expressing a desire to be involved in his son's life will likely work in his favor."

I slumped in my chair, feeling defeated. "So what do we do?"

"For now," Rachel said, leaning forward, "I suggest we take a wait-and-see approach. This brunch could be an opportunity to gauge Mr. Blackwood's intentions. Is he genuinely interested in being a father to Oliver, or is this more about getting back at you for keeping the secret?"

The question hit close to home, stirring up the guilt I'd been trying to suppress. "I... I don't know," I admitted. "Ethan was always passionate about everything he did. If he decides he wants to be a father to Oliver, he'll throw himself into it completely."

"And is that such a bad thing?" Rachel asked gently. "Having an involved, loving father in Oliver's life?"

I closed my eyes, memories of my own absent father flashing through my mind. "No," I whispered. "I suppose not. But..."

"But you're afraid," Rachel finished for me. "Afraid of losing control, of having to share Oliver, of... perhaps... letting Ethan back into your own life?"

My eyes snapped open, meeting Rachel's knowing gaze. "That's not... I mean, Ethan and I, we're..."

"Complicated?" Rachel supplied, a hint of a smile playing at her lips. "Ava, I've been doing this for a long time. I've seen countless couples navigate co-parenting after messy divorces. It's never easy, but it's not impossible. The key is communication and putting the child's needs first."

I nodded, trying to absorb her words. "So what should I do at this brunch? How do I protect myself – and Oliver – while still... giving Ethan a chance?"

Rachel pulled out a legal pad, jotting down some notes. "First, observe how Ethan interacts with Oliver. Is he attentive? Patient? Does he seem genuinely interested in getting to know his son? Second, try to have a calm, rational conversation with Ethan about his intentions. If possible, see if you can come to a temporary agreement about visitation – something informal to start with."

"And if he pushes for more?" I asked, the fear creeping back into my voice.

"Then we push back," Rachel said firmly. "We have a strong case for maintaining primary custody. But Ava, I want you to seriously consider whether going to court is really in Oliver's best interest. Custody battles can be long, expensive, and incredibly traumatic for children."

I nodded, feeling overwhelmed by the weight of the decisions ahead. "I understand. I just... I can't lose my son, Rachel. He's everything to me."

Rachel reached across the desk, patting my hand reassuringly. "No one's going to take Oliver away from you, Ava. But if Ethan is serious about being a father, we need to find a way to make this work for everyone's sake – especially Oliver's."

As I left the office, Rachel's words echoed in my mind. Could Ethan and I really find a way to co-parent peacefully? The memory of our heated encounter at the gala sent a shiver down my spine – equal parts fear and... something else I wasn't ready to name.

My phone buzzed, a text from Ethan lighting up the screen: "Looking forward to brunch tomorrow. Is there anything specific Oliver likes to eat?"

I stared at the message, my thumb hovering over the reply button. This was it – the first step towards whatever our new normal would be. With a deep breath, I typed out a response:

"He loves chocolate chip pancakes. And strawberries. Don't let him convince you he's allowed to have soda – it makes him too hyper."

I hit send before I could overthink it, then added another message:

"Thank you for asking."

Ethan's reply came almost instantly: "Thank you for telling me. See you both tomorrow."

As I walked to my car, I felt a strange mix of emotions swirling in my chest. Fear, certainly. Anxiety about what the future might hold. But also... a tiny flicker of hope. Maybe, just maybe, we could make this work.

For Oliver's sake, we had to try.