Pregnant Again for the Ruthless Billionaire

“That would be twenty dollars, Layla,” said the supermarket attendant as she sat across the counter, unconsciously playing with the cash register in anticipation of the ‘ding’ sound it made whenever she slammed it shut.

It was obvious she had a strange fashion sense. She had a different style of brightly colored sleeping socks on both legs, and her lipstick was already smeared and covered with pieces of bubble gum she kept chewing. A poorly fixed eyelash ridiculously hung on as she batted her eye seductively at every male customer that came through the door.

“Could you please add bubble gum for the road? I don’t have any cash on me right now, so please put it on my dad’s tab,” said the redhead pleadingly.

She grabbed the grocery bag and rushed towards the car park. A rickety Volvo sat alone and seemed to be welcoming her. She reached for her back pocket to get her keys. She couldn’t wait to tell her boyfriend the good news.

Should I really tell him? Considering his current situation, she thought to herself.

It was pretty simple finding her way to his ward. She had mastered these corridors, having slept here at the hospital for several months.

Her boyfriend Sammy was fighting for his dear life. They were already barely surviving. Sammy’s parents had died in a car accident when he was eight years old. He had worked several menial jobs to survive. She was working as an intern at a tailor shop at the time they met.

He is poor and has no parents! Pure bad luck! If you follow that boy, I will disown you, her father had said one evening. She was kicked out that night. She could remember her mother’s silence. Sammy took her into his little apartment immediately. A tailor and a mechanic. What could go wrong, they had thought.

Lewisburg was a small town in the southeastern region of West Virginia. Everyone knew everyone here. It irked her skin whenever she thought about it.

Bunch of gossip, she scoffed. They couldn’t help laughing whenever they saw her. The naive girl thought she was wiser than her parents. A nickname the town had given her.

“Hey, honey,” said Layla as she walked into a familiar hospital room.

The curtains were down, but in this dark room, you could easily tell where the patient, her boyfriend, lay in pain. His slow breathing was the only sound in the room. He was asleep.

She bent to kiss his bald head. The doctors had said it was necessary to cut it. He responded in pain. He had been diagnosed with spinal cancer. There was a tumor viciously spreading in his spine. He was slowly losing control of his nervous system.

At first, they had woken up with his consistent complaints of unbearable back pain. They had believed it was his job as a mechanic. He had to quit eventually. Her little shop had to keep working to keep their starvation at a minimum.

She worked endlessly, day and night. Most nights, she cried on the verge of running back to her mocking parents. How could she? She gave up on her designer classes. Their bills were growing. Their hunger was growing. Everything she had, she gave to his recovery.

One night, she came home to find Sammy on the floor, lying on his urine. He was paralyzed. The dark cloud of fear and tears enveloped their little apartment. She lifted his limp body on her aching back and rushed him to her car. They had been admitted that night.

It had cost her everything, including the house, but he was able to get his first surgery. It wasn’t a fifty-fifty chance, but he pulled through. He could move his head and hands now. He could even talk. It was a good sign.

“Hey babe, is that you?” said Sammy. He stretched his hands to feel her fingers. His rough hands had been scared by so much labor. He finally found the ring he had given her as a promise that he would marry her. He had made her promise to cherish it and never take it off.

“Yes, it’s me, babe. How do you feel? You look better than yesterday. Are you a god or something?” said Layla as she wiped off a tear that was making its way down.

That was not true. In short, he looked worse than yesterday. His skin was pale and as white as snow. His lips were purple and swollen. She could count his ribs while looking at him. A part of her thanked God he couldn’t see her. His vision was yet to be recovered. He would be hurt if he saw her cry.

“If I were a god, shouldn’t you be at my feet offering gifts? Or are you the sacrifice?” he said with a grin on his face. A dry cough escaped his patched lips, and a trace of blood escaped from his nostrils. He was too exhausted to wipe it clean, so he let her help him.

“You are always ready to make jokes, aren’t you? That’s right. Choose positive thoughts and happiness. It would help you get stronger. I love you so much, Ranger,” she said as she leaned closer to him.

He smelt of drugs. He used to smell like dry wood and dark chocolates. Nevertheless, he still smelled like home. On the medium-sized hospital bed they had gotten by sheer luck.

She stretched to kiss him. It felt cold. As cold as the winter wind. She would warm him up. He had always called her his Phoenix. She snuggled a bit closer, trying her best to avoid the little wires and tubes that were connected to his body. He had fallen asleep once more.

Let’s just stay together a little longer, she thought to herself as she closed her eyes. An image of him smiling down at her as he wrote. His dark emerald eyes show love, tears, and courage. I love you too, his lips seemed to say.

“Layla, wake up, Phoenix,” a soft voice said to her. She rubbed her eyes to the image of Sammy struggling to sit up.

“What the fuck, Sammy! You are going to hurt yourself. Lay down. It’s evening. Fuck, how long was I asleep? I need to deliver some clothes,” she said as she tried regaining herself.

She stretched to help him lay down, but he signaled her to stop. He stretched his hands out. It was visible he was suffering. They were shaking as though they had been electrocuted.

“Come help me up, please. I want to watch the stars. Just drag that wheelchair over there and we should be on our way,” he said as he forced out a smile.

“You are not ready. That’s what the doctor said,” she said pleadingly.

“Don’t worry about that. I know I am,” he said while stretching to brush off her tears.

She pulled the chair from a corner of the room. As she bent to set it up, every fiber of her being shattered at the thought that she was pushing him to his death.

“It’s ready. Let me help you get in,” said Layla as she bent to carry his weightless body to the chair. The sickness was eating him up. He groaned in pain for a while before smiling at her.

He was ready to go.

The snow outside was not thick. She watched her side mirror as the image of the hospital appeared on it. They were now past the hospital. She turned to look at him once more. He had a genuine smile spread across his face. His dark emerald eyes glittered as he watched the yellow lights from the lamppost.

What a beautiful picture, she thought to herself.

They arrived at a snow skating center.

“Are you sure about this?” she asked while staring at his crazy bucket list. He simply nodded and gestured for her to open the doors.

“Whatever it is that came over me tonight. I love it. I get to watch this colorful night with you. I’m finally outside that white wall hospital. I love you, babe,” said Sammy as he sipped a bottle of soda. He knew he had lost his sense of taste and couldn’t chew solid food yet, but whatever, as long as it is junk food, my dear, he thought to himself.

“What are you up to? I admit I missed spending time with you, but we could do all this when you recover, baby,” said Layla. A part of her told her that was a lie. The annoying part was that it was louder in her head than in her voice. She couldn’t help biting her lips at the thought of that.

Pum, pum.

White snow blocked her vision from nowhere. “Come on, Red, you are ruining the night. Quit overthinking and give me a nice smile,” said Sammy. He gave out a childish laughter that seemed genuine.

“Okay, I won’t pity you this time,” said Layla as she bent to make a snowball.

“Here we are, sir. In the middle of nowhere far from all the fun stuff. We have cleared your bucket list already. Let’s get back before your nurse finds out you went missing,” said Layla. Sammy had requested they park on the hill and wait.

He was still filled with energy. She turned and saw the fire that had appeared in his eyes. He was grinning like a horny teenager on his first date. He turned and pointed to the sky. “Look!”

It was as though the heavens had opened up and poured down a rain of stars. “Shooting stars!” she screamed with excitement and ran out of the car. This only happened once in a Blue Moon at Lewisburg. She ran back to the car to get him.

They sat under the night sky under a downpour of unending shooting stars. It felt like magic. Layla had sprayed a large blanket and several clothes on the snowy hill. Sammy sat beside her like a puppy waiting to be praised for pleasing its master.

She turned to thank you but was immediately shut. He crashed his cold lips hard against hers. Ice and fire. They created warmth for themselves. A moan escaped her lips as he pushed his tongue deep into her mouth. This was a night never to be forgotten. She thought to herself. What could go wrong?

They had snuck into their room. It wasn’t easy with one of them in a wheelchair, but who cares? They just spent a great night by themselves, in a long time. She changed his clothes and helped him to bed. She would change quickly and get back to him.

“Come and dance with me. Please,” Sammy whispered out loud to her hearing.

“How is that possible? Your spine. We have had enough fun for today,” she said as she tucked her hair behind her ears. He looked at her pleadingly. What was he hiding?

“Fine,” said Layla as she bent to help him up. Both hands firmly held him up. His huge feet crushed hers. He groaned in pain but smiled.

“Hey, the radio is playing West Virginia by John Denver. It’s my favorite.”

“Right, left,” Sammy hummed as they danced. He was following her lead and leaning on her. With every ounce of her strength, she lifted her right foot that carried his right foot. She lifted her left foot, which carried his left foot. It was painful but bearable.

“I am in pain. I am dying,” whispered Sammy. In fright, she stopped dancing and laid him on the bed. He was asleep, not dead; she made sure to check.

“...Country roads take me home to the place I belong, West Virginia, mountain mama. Take me home, country road…”