We Divorced Now He Wants Me Back ( Billionaire Contract Wife)

"Congratulations, Mrs. Spencer. You're pregnant... with Triplets."

The doctor's voice was calm, almost cheerful, but the words struck me like thunder. Pregnant? With triplets? My mouth fell open, yet no sound came out.

I shook my head, stammering, "B-but I've been taking the pills."

The doctor tilted her head slightly, concern flickering across her face. "Is there any day you missed taking them?"

My hands tightened on my lap. I searched my memory but found nothing certain. Lately, my mind has been foggy, always drifting in confusion, too many worries clawing at me. Had I... forgotten? "I... I don't remember," I muttered, my throat dry.

"Sometimes pills don't work," she said softly. Then, after a pause, her voice lowered, almost hesitant. "Don't you want the child, ma?"

My lips parted, the truth spilling out before I could stop it. "I don't."

Her words echoed in the sterile hospital room, bouncing against the walls of my heart. My mind dragged me back two years, to Elijah's cold office, the smell of leather and expensive cologne filling the air. He had handed me the document with his usual detached expression.

I remembered my eyes scanning the fine print, my stomach tightening when I reached the third clause. No children in the marriage. That was five years ago

"Mrs. Jenna," the doctor's voice broke into my memories again, pulling me back. "But you'll have to take care of these children. I noticed your uterus is slightly deformed. Getting pregnant again... might be impossible."

The words pierced me deeper than I expected. Impossible?

I forced a small smile, though my chest felt like stone. "Thank you so much, Doctor." My voice was polite, brittle, hollow. I stood up, gathering my things with trembling hands.

---

The drive home was silent except for the hum of the engine. My mind drifted to the early days of our marriage. That first year, Elijah had been... worse than living in hell but a few years back He had made me break the first clause of our contract-the one that forbade me from falling in love.

But everything changed when she returned. His first love. The woman who had been away received treatment abroad. From that day on, Elijah warmth had turned to ice.

I pulled into our driveway, my hands gripping the wheel even after I turned off the engine. I sat there for a while, staring blankly at the gates of the house I no longer considered home. Marriage was supposed to be built on love and trust, but for Elijah... marriage was a business deal.

From the very start, he had made it clear:

You'll be my contract wife. You won't meddle in my private life. I wouldn't have married you if my first love wasn't severely ill. I just needed a wife in name-for the company.*

I could still hear his cold, steady voice as if he were sitting beside me now.

---

When I finally entered the mansion, the silence wrapped around me like a shroud. I went straight to the bathroom, peeling off my clothes, and sank into the bathtub. Warm water closed over me, but it did little to wash away the fog in my head.

This was all a deal. No feelings attached. That was the mantra I repeated to myself, even as my heart bled with memories of the past two years.

I stared at my reflection in the mirror afterward, standing naked in the dim light of our bedroom. My body looked the same-flat stomach, no sign of life inside me. Yet I knew the truth. I pressed my palm against my belly. Inside me, two fragile beings had begun to grow.

My stomach growled loudly, reminding me of the present. I slipped on a robe and dragged myself to the kitchen. Cooking for myself only-long ago.

I pushed those thoughts aside as I focused on the small meal in front of me. I had to protect them now-these little ones. They were all I had.

After eating, The whole work consumed me. I began to work with my laptop in the living room and fell asleep on the couch.

---

A sudden knock startled me awake.Who could it be at this hour?

When I opened the door, my heart skipped. His Assistant and friends werethere, holding him up by the shoulders. Elijah was slumped, clearly drunk.

"What happened?" I asked, worry slipping out despite myself.

One of the friends smirked mischievously. "Oh, he wanted to celebrate Gwen's return and have some fun, you know?"

I ignored the tone he used ,I knew they didn't like me and held out my arms. "Just hand him over. I'll take care of him."

"Alright. Goodnight, Mrs Jenna " His friend winked, handing Elijah to me before strolling away.

I pulled Elijah inside, shutting the door with a quiet thud. My gaze lingered on his face. Even drunk, he looked impossibly composed.

I had wanted to tell him tonight. About the pregnancy. About everything. But looking at him now, unconscious and smelling of alcohol, I knew this wasn't the right time.

Sighing, I loosened his tie. As I reached for his jacket, a light lit up from his inner pocket. His phone.

For a moment, I hesitated. Then curiosity and fear got the better of me. I slid it out and glanced at the glowing screen.

One message. Just one, but it shattered me.

Elijah darling, remember our plans to visit my parents tomorrow.

My hand trembled. The phone slipped from my grip and landed with a dull thud on the bed.

My body felt weak, my heart screaming silently. Tears stung my eyes as I whispered, "Of course. Her."

Everyone in the company knew her name-his first love. Elijah's' heartthrob. And worse... she was my adopted sister.The perfect daughter everyone chose,even my own parents

Now she is back. And she had him again.

I tightened the robe around me, turned my back to Elijah's's sleeping figure, and let the tears fall freely.

Inside me, three tiny liv

es grew quietly. The only proof that I still had something worth holding onto.

-

The Next Morning

The next morning, I woke to the soft shuffle of footsteps.

My eyes fluttered open just in time to see Elijah stepping out toward the balcony, his phone pressed to his ear.

It had been two days since I last saw my husband.

Only the sound of his call with my cousin still echoed in my head.

My heart skipped a beat. He never went out there unless he wanted privacy unless he wanted to make a call.

I pulled my knees to my chest, sitting silently on the bed, my breath caught in my throat. Through the open glass doors, his voice drifted back to me-low, tender, almost a whisper.

"Don't worry, I'll be there... Make sure you take care of yourself... I won't be late, I promise."

His tone softened, almost coaxing.

"I'm sorry I didn't answer you yesterday."

Each word sliced through me. My chest tightened as though invisible hands were squeezing the life out of me. That wasn't the way he ever spoke to me.

With me, he was cold-short replies, rude retorts, or sometimes complete silence. He'd walk away, leaving me standing there, looking foolish.

But with her, his voice turned to honey. Gentle. Patient.

I pressed a trembling hand against my chest. The pain was unbearable.

He spoke for what felt like hours, while I sat there-his wife, carrying his children-listening to his affection pour out to another woman.

My mind dragged me back to years ago, when I was still in high school.

My father's company was collapsing, money was tight, and my parents decided to send me away.

They said it was "for my own good."

But I knew the truth.

They didn't want the burden of me anymore.

My mother only had eyes for **Gwen**, her precious daughter from her second marriage. Gwen could do no wrong.

My father never questioned her, even when she lied, even when she made my life miserable.

I had no one-no one except **Grandmother Elise**.

She took me in without hesitation. Her small, creaky house smelled of dried herbs and old books.

She'd brush my hair each night and whisper, *"You're worth more than the world's cruelty, Jenna. Don't ever forget that."*

Those words kept me alive.

She was the one who helped me through college, who stood by me when everyone else turned their backs.

But when she passed away during my final year, the world felt darker, emptier.

I was alone again.

I worked small jobs to survive-waitressing, tutoring, cleaning-but life had other plans.

My father's company crashed completely, and I found myself begging for help-not from my parents, who ignored my calls-but from strangers.

---

The sound of **Elijah's** voice pulled me back to the present.

He walked into the room, still on the phone, passing right by the bed where I sat.

> "I'll make a reservation for you at your favorite restaurant... to make it up to you," he murmured.

Snap. Something inside me snapped.

Right in front of me-his wife-he was coaxing another woman.

I swallowed hard, my throat burning. My lips trembled with words I couldn't speak.

The announcement I had wanted to make-the one about our children-died in my chest.

I said nothing. Just stared at him.

The room felt too small, the walls pressing in on me. My lungs screamed for air.

I stood abruptly and walked past him, pushing open the balcony doors.

Cold wind slapped my face-sharp, merciless-dragging a sob from me before I could stop it.

The city lights twinkled below, as if mocking me.

As if there was nothing wrong in the world.

---

The balcony door slid open again. **Elijah's** tall figure stepped out.

> "You look sick," he remarked, his gaze flicking over me. His voice was flat, devoid of the warmth I had just heard minutes ago. "You should go see our family doctor."

I turned my face away, quickly wiping my eyes, but I knew he could still see the pale reflection of me in the glass.

> "Don't disgrace the Markston family with your ghost look," he added coldly.

My control snapped.

I spun around, eyes burning.

> "Would you say that to *Gwen*?" I asked, my voice trembling with hurt.

His jaw tightened. His eyes flashed.

> "Don't you dare call her name. You're not worth it."

The words pierced deeper than knives.

> "Oh, right. I forgot."

My voice shook, breaking apart.

> "This is all just a marriage of convenience. An arrangement."

A bitter laugh escaped me.

> "I'm not worthy. I'm just the girl you married because you needed a stand-in. A cover. An executive designer playing your wife in name only."

> "This was what you signed up for. Don't act like you were forced into it," **Elijah** snarled, his tone sharp enough to cut skin.

I laughed again, but it came out more like a cry.

> "A stand-in. A contract. That's what our two years of marriage mean to you?"

He stared at me, cold as ice.

> "Exactly. That's what it is. No feelings attached. Make sure you always remember rule number one."

Rule number one.

At the mention of it, my hands moved instinctively to my stomach. Panic gripped me.

He didn't notice-didn't care.

He just turned and walked away, leaving me standing there, as if I were something that irritated him.

---

I stumbled back into the bedroom and collapsed under the covers.

My tears, the ones I had held back all night, finally broke free.

My mind replayed two years ago, when the scandal broke in his company.

The shareholders and executives had pressured him to marry-to fix his reputation and calm the chaos.

**Gwen** had been sick then, fragile and untouchable in everyone's eyes.

And I had been desperate-alone, jobless, and grieving Grandmother Elise.

I worked myself to exhaustion, but it was never enough.

Until one day, I received a message from **NTX Company**-**Elijah's** company.

They told me I was employed.

I hadn't even submitted a résumé. How had they known about me?

Later, I found out.

It was all **Gwen's** doing.

She wanted to watch me suffer-to live as someone's shadow.

To marry into a life that was nothing but a beautiful, suffocating cage.

---

The sound of a car engine roared from outside. I froze under the blanket.

Of course. He was leaving. Off to see his heartthrob.

He had already made reservations for her. Wonderful.

I went to where I hid the ultrasound.

Three tiny dots on the paper

My babies. My light.

Tears blurred my vision as I hugged the blanket tighter around me, pressing the phone

to my chest.

>"You're my all," I whispered to the picture, a shaky smile breaking through.I promise... I'll protect you. Even if it costs me my last breath."

---

The next morning came too quickly.

I hadn't slept. My eyes ached, my head throbbed, but I still forced myself up.

The air in the room was cold, heavy with silence. Elijah's side of the bed was untouched.

He hadn't come home.

I took a long shower, trying to wash away the ache in my chest. By the time I stepped into my office clothes - a soft beige blouse tucked into a dark pencil skirt my reflection already looked tired. Pale. Fragile.

But I had to go.

I couldn't give Gwen the satisfaction of knowing I'd broken down.

When I arrived at Skydom Company.The reception area was busier than usual. Staff hurried about with anxious faces, adjusting decorations and banners. Something was happening.

"Ma'am!" My assistant, Clara, hurried up to me, her voice laced with excitement. "They said Ms. Gwen is coming in today. She's meeting with the board. It's about the new collaboration deal with the overseas branch."

Gwen.

Of course.

She was Skydom's darling - the charming PR consultant who had Elijah's full attention and the shareholders' praise. Beautiful, manipulative, and cunning. Everything came easily to her.

I swallowed my discomfort and nodded calmly.

"Thank you, Clara. Go ahead, I'll join the meeting shortly."

But as I turned toward the elevator, my stomach twisted.

Today, I would have to face her.

---

The boardroom gleamed with glass walls and polished tables.

Elijah sat at the head of the table, unreadable as ever in his navy suit. His fingers tapped his pen lazily, but his eyes - those sharp, cold eyes - didn't lift when I entered.

"Good morning, everyone," I greeted quietly, taking my seat near the end of the table.

"Ah, she's here," a voice sang.

Gwen.

She glided into the room as though she owned it - soft curls brushing her shoulders, lips painted in the perfect shade of confidence.

And beside her, Elijah's gaze softened in a way I hadn't seen in years.

That same softness I heard in his voice last night.

My heart clenched painfully.

She smiled sweetly at the board before her eyes flicked to me - mock surprise lighting her expression.

"Oh, Jenna," she purred. "You're here too? I didn't expect to see you in this meeting. Isn't this a bit above your position?"

A few of the executives exchanged awkward glances. One cleared his throat. "Mrs. Spencer is our senior design consultant. She's part of the project development team."

Gwen's eyes sparkled with amusement. "Oh, right. I forgot. You're still playing designer, aren't you?"

Her tone dripped with sarcasm.

Elijah said nothing. Not a word.

He didn't even look at me.

The silence burned.

I forced a small, polite smile. "Designing is still my job, Gwen. Even if some people forget it."

Her lips twitched. "Of course." Then she tilted her head innocently. "But shouldn't you focus more on charity events and social dinners? Or perhaps... on keeping her husband company?"

The words were casual, but the message behind them was poisonous.

Everyone knew who Elijah spent his nights with.

A soft murmur rippled through the room. I kept my hands clasped tightly on my lap, nails digging into my skin beneath the table.

"I prefer work over gossip," I replied calmly, though my throat burned. "It's more productive."

Gwen's smile faltered for just a second before she masked it with a laugh. "Still as defensive as ever, I see. You haven't changed a bit."

Elijah's pen tapped once, sharp against the table. "That's enough," he said coolly - but his tone wasn't for her. It was directed at the room, not at Gwen. Not for me.

He wasn't protecting me. He was ending the scene for his own convenience.

---

After the meeting, I gathered my files and turned to leave. My hands trembled slightly as I closed my laptop.

Behind me, Gwen's laughter echoed.

"Oh, Jenna," she called sweetly, "you should drop by my office later. I have some design drafts you might want to *approve*. After all, we wouldn't want the company's image to suffer, right?"

I knew exactly what she was doing - reminding everyone that I was beneath her, even though she wasn't even officially part of the design team.

I straightened my back and met her gaze. "Of course," I said softly. "Send them over. I'll review them."

She didn't expect that. Her smile stiffened, but she quickly recovered, flipping her hair. "Perfect. See you then."

Elijah finally looked at me, his eyes unreadable. "You can leave now, Jenna."

And that was it.

No defense. No care. No trace of the man I once believed could feel anything for me.

---

By the time I reached my office, my hands were shaking.

I closed the door quietly behind me and sank into my chair, burying my face in my palms.

I wasn't just humiliated - I was invisible.

A soft knock came moments later. Clara peeked in, holding a small cup of tea. "Ma'am, I... I just wanted to say I'm sorry for what happened out there. Ms. Gwen shouldn't have said those things."

I looked up at her and forced a small smile. "It's fine, Clara. People like Gwen don't change. They just find new ways to hurt others."

She hesitated, then lowered her voice. "Everyone says she's the reason Mr. Elijah even got married. That there was an arrangement between their families. Is that true?"

My lips parted, but no sound came out.

I wanted to tell her no. That there was more to it. That maybe - once - Elijah had cared, even a little. But lying felt heavier than silence.

"I should get back to work," I whispered finally.

Hours passed. I stayed buried in design drafts, trying to focus on lines and colors instead of the ache in my chest.

When the office lights dimmed for the evening, I reached into my bag and touched the ultrasound photo again.

Three tiny lives. Two reasons to keep breathing.

"Don't worry," I whispered, pressing a hand to my stomach. "Grandma Elise used to say love doesn't always come wrapped in kindness. But I'll give you all the love she gave me."

I smiled faintly through tears. "You'll never have to beg for it like I did."

Outside my door, Gwen's laughter drifted down the hallway again - bright, confident, poisonous.

And mixed with it was Elijah's deep, familiar voice.

For a brief moment, I thought I'd break.

But instead, I stood up, straightened my blouse, and whispered to myself,

"You're not her shadow anymore, Jenna. Not this time."