Billionaire, Let's Divorce!

ANASTASIA

For the umpteenth time, I hurriedly bent forward toward the sink and retched multiple times but nothing

came out.

I sighed and returned to where I sat on the toilet floor.

I had barely been able to drag myself out of bed this morning. I had woken up, feeling seriously. nauseated. Though my body ached terribly and my head was banging, the urge to vomit gave me the strength to leap from the bed and hurry to the toilet. It was to my dissapointment when all I could do was retch into the sink.

It was frustrating. I wanted to lay down my aching body and head but I couldn't stop gagging.

Exactly the moment I am able to gather the strength to drag myself back to the room, it was that same time that a terrible smell would hit me and I'd run back to the sink.

As I hoped I hadn't disrupted Dennis' sleep since he hadn't rushed in here, I abruptly sprang from the as yesterday's meals rapidly climbed up my throat.

floor

Thankfully, I was able to vomit this time but it left me feeling weaker than I already felt. It felt like I'd just hurled out my insides.

My hand trembled as I reached up to flush the slimy content in the sink. Then I tore a paper towel and wiped my mouth before collapsing back on the floor in a sitting position.

I saw two of everything and I had to close and open my eyes several times before I was able to focus my gaze on the wall across from me. Even as I sat there, my body trembled, my breathing became labored.

I knew if I should try to get up on my own, I would not make it to the room without falling flat on my face

or heavens forbid, losing consciousness.

Swallowing the guilt I felt, I called out to Dennis. But there was no response.

"Dennis?" I tried again.

The loud silence was the only response I got.

He came back quite early yesterday but I could tell that he was weary from the day's work. Immediately after dinner, he had dove straight to the bed.

I felt bad that I'd have to disturb his sleep but I needed help out of this place.

"Dennis," I called weakly.

Maybe my voice is too low and he can't hear me, I thought to myself. But I couldn't raise my voice more. than this. I didn't have the stamina. "Dennis," my lips trembled and my eyes stung with tears as I tried again.

Why do I feel so tired? Why do I feel so sick? My morning sickness weren't this terrible when I was

pregnant with Arnie.

With my weak voice, I tried and tried but I didn't get any response from him.This text is property of Nô/velD/rama.Org.

I couldn't spend the whole day in the toilet. Eventually, trudged out of the toilet.

My brows drew down in a frown when I stepped back into the room, my grip firm on the wall.

My eyes roamed the room and returned to the empty bed.

Where did he go? I thought just as I called out again. "Dennis?"

My frown further deepened as I followed the wall and gently laid on the bed.

I hadn't even heard him from the bathroom. Maybe he got an urgent call from work and had no choice but to rush out when he didn't see me.

I glanced at my phone. If it was so then he must have called or left a text message. I reached for my phone bit there was neither a text or a missed call from him.

I swallowed. What was so important that he left without informing me? I hope all is well.

I spent about an hour on the bed, curled around myself. Then I managed to reach for some painkillers in the drawer and swallowed them. Few hours later, I felt better. I was able to move about without wincing as I held my head or clinging to the wall. I made myself a meal, took a long bath then I headed to the hospital.

"Mommy," Amie smiled and said in a weak voice. "Good morning."

I glanced at the wall clock in the room, "It'll be noon in a few minutes. Sorry, I came late."

She shook her head. "It's okay."

I sighed as I dropped into the seat beside her bed. "I wasn't feeling too well this morning," I said out of the blue. I just wanted to tell someone how sick I felt this morning.

I'd tried to reach Dennis earlier. I was worried as to why he'd hurriedly left the house without a word plus ! just wanted to cry to someone.

"How do you feel now?" Amie asked, her voice tinged with worry. "Did I make you sick, mom?" She added

before I could answer her.

"Oh. No, baby. I'm better now. It's just..." I shrugged. "Morning sickness."

"Oh," she muttered and relaxed in the bed. I knew she didn't get what I meant but she didn't probe.

"Are you okay?" I asked when I noticed her dampened mood. My gaze roved over her body. "Where does it hurt?"

She smiled sadly. "Everywhere."

My heart cracked at that. I'm sorry. Very soon, love. Very soon, you'll feel better and be out of here.

"Guess what?" I decided to tell her, certain that it would brighten her up.

She glanced up at me. "What? Dad's here?"

I shook my head and pursed my lips.

Her smile widened. She had always loved guessing games. "You got me new painting materials?"

I laughed. "You aren't even close."

"Tell me," she whined.

"Fine. You, my love," I pulled her to me, "will be getting a sibling soon."

Her eyes widened. "My own little sister?"

I laughed. "Or brother."

"Where's he?" Her gaze went over my shoulder,

"In my tummy." I flattened my palm on my stomach.

She gaped at it then returned her gaze to me. "How?" She blurted.

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