Chapter 4 Unspoken Things

The following morning, Leah woke earlier than usual.

Sleep had been elusive. Her body lay in the guest room, but her mind was still spinning somewhere back on that dance floor caught in the echo of Xavier's hand on her waist, the weight of his stare, and the way his voice had softened at the end of the night.

Why was he starting to feel... real?

She slid out of bed, pulling on a soft robe Amanda had left in the wardrobe, and padded barefoot to the kitchen. The penthouse was too quiet, the kind of silence that held tension like a held breath.

She made coffee from the machine she still barely knew how to use, then sat at the island counter, scrolling through news on her phone. Her name hadn't been used in the headlines just "Xavier Lu's mystery wife" or "The cold CEO surprises with sudden marriage."

She should've felt relief. But instead, she felt... erased.

"Morning."

She jumped slightly, turning to see Xavier in a dark shirt and suit pants, tie slung loose around his neck. His hair was still damp from a shower. He looked... less sharp this morning. Less carved from stone.

"Morning," she said, clutching her coffee like armor.

He moved around the kitchen with too much grace for someone half-asleep. He poured himself coffee, then leaned against the counter, watching her.

"You held up well last night," he said. "Cassandra didn't shake you."

"She tried."

"You didn't let her."

Leah lifted an eyebrow. "I didn't think you were the type to hand out praise."

"I'm not." He took a slow sip. "You earned it."

Silence stretched.

She looked at him carefully. "Why did you bring me into this life, really? I know it wasn't just about your board or image. You could've picked anyone."

His jaw tightened slightly. "You want the truth?"

"Yes."

"I was tired," he said. "Tired of games. Of women chasing my name. Of always wondering who was lying and why."

"So you bought honesty?"

"I found someone who didn't pretend to love me. Who said exactly what she needed and didn't try to dress it up as anything else."

Leah didn't speak for a long moment.

She looked down at her cup.

"I didn't think I'd matter to you."

"You weren't supposed to," he admitted.

The air between them shifted again charged, heavy with something neither of them dared to name.

"I have a doctor's appointment today," Leah said suddenly, breaking the tension.

He raised an eyebrow. "Is something wrong?"

"No. It's just... routine. For Emma."

His expression softened slightly. "Do you want me to come?"

She blinked, surprised. "Why would you?"

"Because she's your sister. And for now... you're my wife."

Leah's lips parted, but no words came out.

She didn't know what stunned her more the offer, or the fact that it sounded sincere.

Later that afternoon

The hospital wasn't new to Leah. Its sterile white walls and harsh lighting were part of her reality. The smell of antiseptic, the soft beeps of machines, the hushed voices it was all too familiar.

But today was different.

Today, she walked through the doors beside a man who looked like he belonged in a glass office, not a pediatric ward. Xavier drew eyes wherever he went doctors, nurses, even other patients sneaking glances at the tall, stoic man with cold eyes and a colder aura.

Leah guided him quietly, almost protectively.

They reached the third floor, where Emma's room was tucked away near the end of the hallway. The little girl was sitting up in bed, drawing with crayons, her dark hair in a loose ponytail.

"Leah!" she chirped, eyes lighting up.

Leah smiled and rushed to her side, hugging her gently. "Hi, baby. Feeling okay today?"

"Better now." Emma's eyes flicked past her. "Who's that?"

Leah hesitated.

Xavier stepped forward and crouched beside the bed, surprising both of them.

"I'm Xavier," he said simply. "Your sister's... friend."

Emma narrowed her eyes in a way that made Leah smirk.

"She never mentioned you."

"That's probably my fault."

Emma considered him, then nodded once, satisfied. "Okay. Want to see my drawing?"

He glanced at Leah, then nodded. "Sure."

She handed him a piece of paper with scribbled flowers and a sun that looked like it was exploding. "This is me, this is Leah, and that's the magic tree that makes you better."

Xavier studied it seriously. "Very creative. I like the colors."

Emma beamed.

Leah's heart tugged at the scene this small, strange moment of domestic peace in the middle of a life that had been anything but peaceful.

When Emma was taken for her scans, Leah and Xavier waited outside.

"She likes you," Leah said softly.

"She's smart."

"She's everything."

Xavier glanced at her. "How long has she been sick?"

"Three years. She has a genetic disorder that affects her immune system. One bad infection, one missed treatment... it could be fatal."

"You've carried this alone?"

She nodded. "Our parents died when I was eighteen. I became her legal guardian. Everything I've done... it's been for her."

Xavier looked away for a moment.

"I understand now."

"Understand what?"

"Why you didn't want a fairy tale. You were already living a nightmare."

Leah swallowed the lump in her throat.

"But Emma is my hope," she said. "She's the only reason I agreed to marry a man I barely knew."

Xavier turned to face her, something unreadable in his expression.

"You still don't know me."

"Maybe not," she whispered. "But I'm starting to think I want to."

The car ride back from the hospital was quiet, but it wasn't awkward silence it was settled. Like something between them had shifted in that sterile waiting room, and neither of them could quite explain it.

Leah glanced at Xavier as they drove through the city. His posture was relaxed, arm resting on the center console, his gaze focused ahead.

"You were good with her," she said softly.

He didn't look at her, but she saw the faintest twitch of a smile.

"I don't spend much time around kids," he replied. "They usually cry when I walk into a room."

"She didn't."

"No," he agreed. "She didn't."

Leah hesitated, then asked, "Do you have family? Siblings?"

His jaw tightened. "One older brother. He died in a car accident when I was sixteen."

"I'm sorry."

He nodded, but said nothing more. The subject closed, the lock clicked shut behind his silence.

Leah didn't push.

When they reached the penthouse, she moved toward her room, expecting the day to end the way most of theirs had-separate, behind closed doors.

But Xavier spoke again.

"Dinner?"

She turned. "Now?"

"I haven't eaten. You probably haven't either."

"I can order something."

"I was thinking we could... go out."

Leah stared at him, uncertain. "Out? Like... on a date?"

He met her gaze, dead serious. "Like two people trying to figure out if they're more than names on a marriage license."

Her breath caught.

She should've said no. Should've reminded herself this was temporary. A contract. A lie.

But her heart, traitorous and too soft whispered otherwise.

"Okay," she said.

An Hour Later Uptown

Xavier didn't take her to one of his usual luxury haunts. No reservations at elite rooftop restaurants or private clubs. Instead, he brought her to a quiet Italian bistro nestled between old bookstores and flower shops.

It was quaint. Warm.

Unexpected.

They sat at a candlelit table, the low hum of classical music and soft clinks of cutlery filling the space around them.

"You come here often?" Leah teased as she picked up a menu.

"I used to," Xavier said. "Before the board meetings. Before the press. Before everything became about appearances."

She glanced at him over her glass. "So... the cold CEO has a human past?"

His lips twitched. "Don't push it."

She smiled, amused.

Dinner was surprisingly easy. They talked really talked. Not about contracts or charities or business mergers. But about books. Movies. Childhood dreams.

He admitted he used to paint.

She laughed at the thought. "Let me guess. Stormy oceans? Lonely castles?"

"Mostly birds," he replied with a faint smirk. "Wings fascinated me."

"You're full of surprises."

He shrugged. "You bring them out."

She stilled.

Those words. So casual, so simple but they landed heavy in her chest.

"You know this is dangerous, right?" she said quietly.

"What is?"

"This. You and me. Blurring lines."

"We're already married."

"But that was supposed to be safe. Boundaries. Terms. I can't afford to forget why I'm here."

"Neither can I."

Their eyes met. The air between them was charged again magnetic, but fragile.

"I don't want to hurt you, Leah."

"Then don't," she whispered.

Later That Night

The elevator ride up was silent.

Leah stood inches from him, heart racing. Her skin still buzzed from the way his fingers had brushed hers across the table. The way his voice had dipped when he said her name.

This wasn't supposed to happen.

Feelings weren't part of the plan.

The elevator chimed.

They stepped out.

She turned toward her room without a word, but Xavier's voice stopped her once more.

"Leah."

She faced him, slowly.

He stepped closer. "If this becomes something real... I need to know you won't run."

"I don't run," she said softly. "But I don't chase either."

His hand brushed her cheek, so lightly it felt like a breath.

"Fair enough."

And just like that, he turned and walked away.

Leaving her heart pounding, her knees weak, and her soul completely unsure of where she stood.

The next morning arrived with a sickening wave of nausea.

Leah barely made it to the bathroom in time, dropping to her knees as her stomach twisted. Cold sweat gathered on her forehead, and she gripped the porcelain bowl, breathless and shaking.

Not again.

She rinsed her mouth and stared at her reflection in the mirror. Pale. Exhausted. Her eyes sunken with shadows that sleep hadn't touched.

She'd been blaming the stress, the change in lifestyle, the emotional weight of everything. But this wasn't stress. It felt... different.

Off.

Her phone buzzed on the bathroom counter.

A reminder: Cycle missed 8 days late.

Leah's heart stuttered.

No. No, no, no.

She clutched the sink, breath shallow.

This couldn't be happening.

Except she counted the days, mentally retracing steps.

One mistake. One vulnerable night two weeks ago, when she'd drowned her fears in half a bottle of wine and found unexpected comfort in the arms of the man she now called husband.

A night they both had chosen not to mention since.

A night they'd pretended hadn't happened.

Please, let this be stress.

But deep inside, her instincts whispered what she didn't want to admit.

She sat at the edge of her bed, eyes on the unopened box in her hand.

A test.

One she hadn't thought she'd need.

Not now. Not like this.

Her hands trembled as she went back into the bathroom and followed the instructions. Minutes felt like hours. Her entire body was rigid as she stared at the tiny plastic strip.

One line.

Then slowly...

Another.

Two.

She didn't breathe.

Didn't move.

Her hand fell to her stomach, as if trying to feel what had just shifted her entire world.

Pregnant.

A soft knock startled her.

She dropped the test behind her and straightened quickly.

Xavier's voice. "Leah?"

She opened the door slightly. "Yeah?"

He frowned. "You're pale. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she lied. "Just a little sick this morning. Probably something I ate."

His eyes narrowed slightly, like he didn't believe her but he didn't push.

"Do you want me to cancel today's meeting?" he asked. "You look like you could use rest."

"No," she said quickly. "I'll be fine."

"Are you sure?"

Leah nodded, but she couldn't hold his gaze. Couldn't bear to look at him and know she was keeping something this huge from him.

"Okay," he said softly. "But let me know if it gets worse."

He hesitated before turning to leave, and for a second she almost stopped him.

Almost.

But the words caught in her throat.

How do you tell your cold, controlled, emotionally distant husband that you might be carrying his child?

That evening

She tried to distract herself.

Painted. Cleaned. Cooked. Read the same page of her book five times.

But nothing silenced the voice in her head: You're pregnant.

By a man who didn't believe in love.

By a man who had only ever wanted a temporary wife with no strings attached.

A man who was starting to look at her like she mattered.

But this? This changed everything.

And she didn't know if it would ruin the fragile trust they'd built... or bind them together forever.

She stood in the kitchen, stirring a pot of soup when she heard the door open.

Xavier walked in, his jacket draped over one arm, tie loosened. He looked tired, but when he saw her, something in his face softened.

"Smells good," he said.

"I thought I'd cook tonight."

"You didn't have to."

"I wanted to."

They sat in silence for a while as they ate. Leah could barely swallow. Her stomach churned not from the food, but from the secret pressing against her ribs.

Halfway through the meal, he set down his spoon.

"Leah," he said carefully, "if something's wrong... you can tell me."

She froze.

His eyes were locked on hers. Quiet. Intense.

Her lips parted.

She could tell him now. Just say it. Blurt it out. End the torment of hiding.

But then his phone rang.

He glanced down at the screen, frowning.

"Sorry, I have to take this."

He stepped into the hallway, voice low.

Leah watched him disappear.

And all the courage she had evaporated like smoke.

Not tonight.

Tomorrow. Maybe.