Charlotte had kept the secret for almost three months, hiding it behind layers of excuses, long nights, and evasion. But the reality was undeniable now—she could no longer keep her pregnancy from Utter. The baby was his. It was time to tell him, even if it felt like the weight of the world was about to come crashing down on her.
She stood in front of the mirror, staring at her reflection. Her body was changing, the evidence of the life growing inside her was becoming harder to ignore. Her fingers brushed over her stomach, the small bump now visible beneath the fabric of her loose top. She had kept it hidden for as long as possible, but every day it became more difficult to conceal.
She thought about Utter—his cold demeanor, his calculated moves, and the way he had always treated her with a mix of indifference and possessiveness. She had never imagined that a child, his child, would ever be a part of the equation. But now it was here, and she had no choice but to face him.
The decision to tell him hadn't come easily. Charlotte had tried to convince herself that she could handle this on her own, that she could keep the pregnancy a secret for as long as possible. But the truth was, the longer she kept it from him, the harder it became to breathe. She needed him to know, even if she wasn't sure what his reaction would be.
Her phone buzzed on the counter, interrupting her thoughts. It was a message from Utter: "Meet me at the office. We need to talk."
Charlotte stared at the screen for a moment. Of course, he wanted to talk now, right when she had made the decision to confront him with the truth. She knew she couldn't delay it any longer. He needed to know, and he needed to know now.
With a deep breath, she grabbed her bag and left the apartment. The drive to his office was a blur, her mind racing with the possibilities of what might happen once she told him. She wasn't ready for the harsh words, the rejection, or the judgment she knew might come. But she had to face it.
***___***
Utter's office was as cold and sterile as always, the walls lined with sleek, modern furniture that felt more like a showroom than a workspace. He stood by the window, looking out at the city below, his posture rigid and commanding. He didn't turn as she entered, but she could feel the weight of his gaze even before he spoke.
"Charlotte," he said, his voice cool, measured. "What's this about?"
Charlotte swallowed hard, the words heavy in her throat. She had practiced what to say, but now that she was here, in front of him, it all seemed so insignificant. Nothing she could say would change the reality of the situation.
She took a breath, steadying herself. "I'm pregnant."
There was a long silence, and she could feel the tension between them grow thicker with every passing second. Utter didn't move, didn't say anything. He simply stared at her, his expression unreadable. The silence stretched on, and Charlotte felt the weight of his gaze burning through her.
Finally, he spoke, his voice colder than she had ever heard it. "Pregnant?" he repeated, as if the word itself didn't make sense to him. He turned slowly to face her, his eyes narrowing, a mix of disbelief and disdain in his features.
"Yes," Charlotte said, her voice trembling slightly. "With your child."
Utter's eyes flashed with something—something sharp, something dangerous. His lips twisted into a thin line as he took a step closer, his gaze never leaving hers.
"You think I care about that?" he sneered, his voice laced with venom. "You think I care about some inconvenience in your life? This—" He gestured to her stomach, his disgust palpable. "This changes nothing."
Charlotte's heart clenched, but she stood her ground. She had expected anger, but the harshness in his words still cut deeper than she had anticipated.
"Utter," she said, trying to steady her voice, "I'm not asking you to care. I just thought you had the right to know. It's your child."
His eyes flickered with something dark, and his lips curled into a cruel smile. "You've made a mess of your life, haven't you?" he said, his voice low and mocking. "And now you think I'm supposed to clean it up? Do you think I'll suddenly change everything for you? For a child?"
Charlotte felt her stomach drop. This was the man she had once believed in, the man she had thought could offer some sort of stability. But now, his words tore that illusion apart. He didn't care. Not about her, not about the child.
"I don't need you to clean anything up," Charlotte said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I just thought you should know."
Utter stepped forward, his face inches from hers. The anger in his eyes was unmistakable now, and she could feel the heat of his breath on her face.
"You should've thought long and hard about that before you let this happen," he said, his voice dangerously quiet. "You're on your own, Charlotte. Don't expect me to fix this for you."
The finality in his tone hit her like a physical blow. She had hoped for some semblance of understanding, some hint that he might consider the child, but all she got was rejection. The child didn't matter to him, not as a person, not as anything more than an obstacle.
With a quick motion, Utter turned away, his back to her as he walked toward the desk. "Now, if that's all, I suggest you leave," he said, dismissing her with a coldness that chilled her to the bone.
Charlotte stood still for a moment, her mind reeling from his words. She had expected rejection, but the raw cruelty of his response left her breathless. She had thought there might be some part of him that cared, but there was nothing. She was just another problem for him to discard.
Without another word, Charlotte turned and walked out of the office, her heart heavy and broken. The door closed behind her with a soft click, but the silence that followed was anything but peaceful. It was a silence filled with the weight of everything she had hoped for, everything she had lost.
She had told him, and now, she would have to face the consequences alone.