Page 92 of Baby For The Bad Boy Billionaire

I stumble my way to the door, leaving her alone in her apartment.

The door closes behind me, but the shock, the confusion, the guilt... it all stays.

29

BAILEY

As the door closes behind Logan, it feels like a weight crushes my chest. I can still smell his cologne lingering in the room—a cruel reminder of him leaving me here by myself. I sink to the floor, my back against the couch where moments ago, he was next to me. I pull my knees to my chest and let the tears flow.

I've heard about ugly crying in movies, but these tears... these tears are a different story. It's raw, gut-wrenching, and there's nothing beautiful about it. It's me, alone, feeling abandoned.

The worst part? It's such a familiar feeling - I know that I’m spiraling, but my thoughts venture into my childhood. My dad leaving me. Men leaving me. Alone.

"Why?" I whisper to the empty room, a choked sob falling from my mouth. "Why do they always leave?"

I want to trust that Logan is different. I want to let my guard down. I want to trust that he will come back. But I’m struggling.

He left... like all the others.

I hug my knees tighter, my tears soaking the fabric of my skirt.

I let out a bitter laugh that shifts into a sob. “Why can’t I just trust men," I say to the empty room, the words a sad attempt to comfort the void inside me.

I cry. And I cry harder. What if my child has to face a world where his father left, just like mine did.

I cry more.

A few moments later, I hear soft footsteps coming my way. Rachel finds me on the floor, a hot mess.

"Bailey?" She crouches down next to me. "What happened?"

I turn to look at her. "I... I told him, Rachel... I told Logan... about the baby." I let out a half cry half sigh. "And he left," I choke out, tears streaming down my face. "He... He left me."

Rachel pulls me into her arms as I let out a heartbroken sob into her shoulder. "Shh... it's okay, Bailey." Her hand strokes my hair. “He’ll come back, Bayles. You're not alone. You'll never be alone."

My cries start to fade, and the room goes quiet. Rachel waits until I'm calm again before she breaks the silence. "Want to get ice cream? You know... like we used to in college when we had a bad day?"

"I'm pregnant, Rachel. I need a double-scoop banana split; a cone of vanilla won't do it."

"Perfect. Let's go to Jim's Creamery down the street. They have the best banana splits."

The short walk to get ice cream feels like a temporary escape from the hurricane that my life has become.

We step in and the shop's doorbell rings. The scent of fresh waffle cones and homemade ice cream makes my stomach growl.

Rachel steps up to the counter first, ordering a single scoop of strawberry in a sugar cone—her usual.

"I'll have a double-scoop banana split, with extra whipped cream, a drizzle of hot fudge, some chopped nuts, a handful of rainbow sprinkles, and... oh, a cherry on top!" I rub my belly.

Rachel bursts into laughter. "Are you feeding an army or just one tiny human?" She nudges me.

"My appetite has taken on a life of its own with this little one. I blame the baby."

For a moment, everything feels normal again.

But of course, that doesn't last.

As Rachel and I slide into the booth, my phone buzzes. I glance at the screen and my heart drops.

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