Mr. Grumpy's Runaway Wife

Mia POV

New York

I looked at Doctor Brynn and busted out laughing. Doctor Brynn, a stern, middle-aged man with salt-and-pepper hair and a pair of glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, cocked an eyebrow at me. "What's so funny, Ms. Anderson?" he inquired, his tone laced with a hint of curiosity and a dash of annoyance.

I couldn't contain my laughter; it bubbled up from deep within me, making my shoulders shake as I snorted in mirth. To be honest, it was a mixture of nervousness, disbelief, and a bizarre sense of humor that had taken over me.

"You will not be laughing like this when you are going to push that baby out," Doctor Brynn said with a wry smile, as he scribbled down something on his cluttered agenda. His words only made me laugh harder, tears streaming down my cheeks.

"I will not be laughing because I will not have a baby," I managed to say between fits of giggles as I wiped the tears from the corners of my eyes. I couldn't help but feel that this whole situation was surreal.

Doctor Brynn's face turned serious as he looked at me intently. "Are you planning to abort it?" he asked, his voice gentle yet probing. "It's a big decision, and I'm here to help if you need guidance."

I stared at him incredulously, my laughter subsiding as confusion and disbelief took over. What was this man thinking? "I'm not going to have an abortion," I replied firmly. "I'm not sure what type of drugs you are on, doctor, but I cannot be pregnant." I reached for my bag, a growing sense of urgency to leave this bizarre situation tugging at me.

Doctor Brynn leaned forward, his expression growing more concerned. "If there's someone on drugs right now, Ms. Anderson, it's you." He sighed, clearly worried about my mental state.

I shook my head, trying to regain some semblance of composure. "I cannot be pregnant, Doctor. My pre-marital medical report indicated that I am infertile." The word 'infertile' left a bitter taste in my mouth. "And the definition of being infertile is that I cannot be with the child if you must know." This time something in my heart tugged. It was a painful feeling.

"I'm a doctor, Ms. Anderson. If I didn't know that, you would not be calmly sitting here. That report merely stated there was a potential infertility issue between you and your partner," Doctor Brynn reiterated, his tone calm and measured. "Since you are now pregnant, it's evident that the problem likely lies with your ex-partner's sperm quality. You are very much fertile, Ms. Anderson."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. It was as if the ground had shifted beneath me, and I was struggling to find my footing. So all this time my ex-husband was responsible for the fertility issue in our relationship.

"Tell me you are kidding, Doctor Brynn." I could feel my emotions swirling inside me, from shock to anger to sadness, all fighting for dominance.

Doctor Brynn, with his characteristic calm demeanor, took a deep breath. "Ms. Anderson, I've been in this field for over ten years now. What you're experiencing right now, the emotional rollercoaster, those are your pregnancy hormones at work."

My mind was still a haze as I tried to process everything. "So you're telling me that all this time it was my ex-husband who had a problem and not me?" I couldn't help but feel a glimmer of triumph amidst the chaos. It was like karma had decided to play a hand in my life, and it felt oddly satisfying.

Doctor Brynn shook his head, his expression sympathetic. "Yes, he was very much the problem," he confirmed.

"Yes, karma is a sweet b*tch," I muttered under my breath, a small smile playing on my lips. Doctor Brynn shot me a look that seemed to say, "Are you serious?" His professionalism was unwavering, even in the face of my unusual reaction.

"Ms. Anderson," he said, his tone gentle yet firm, "I think it's time to go home and tell your partner about this new addition to the family. We will schedule your next appointment for one month from now."

My partner. Pregnant. The thought swirled in my mind, and I wanted to pull my hair out in frustration. "Ughh," I groaned, unable to contain my exasperation.

Doctor Brynn raised an eyebrow, clearly curious about my sudden distress. "What is it now, Ms. Anderson?" he asked with a sigh, preparing himself for another unexpected twist in this strange tale.

"It was a one-night stand," I blurted out, my words tumbling out of my mouth before I could stop them. The look on Doctor Brynn's face shifted from curiosity to something resembling mild discomfort.

He lifted his hand as if to ward off any further information. "I asked out of politeness, not because I wanted to hear about your… nightly adventures." With that, he briskly exited the room, leaving me alone with my tumultuous thoughts and the newfound reality of my unexpected pregnancy.

As I stepped out of Doctor Brynn's office, the weight of the revelation still hung heavy in the air. The news that I was pregnant and that my ex-husband was the one with fertility issues gave me a whirlwind of emotions. But amidst the chaos of my thoughts, another force began to emerge, like a tide slowly creeping in.

Memories of the one-night stand started resurfacing in my mind. At first, they were faint flashes, like distant thunder on the horizon. But with each step I took, each breath I drew, those memories grew stronger, more vivid, until they enveloped me like a tidal wave.

I found myself replaying that night in my mind, like a movie I couldn't stop watching. It had happened at my client's weddings, a night when I had sought solace in the arms of none other than the brother of the groom, a night when I had thrown caution to the wind and allowed myself to drown in the heat of the moment.

Sebastian Thornton. The Billionaire. The eligible bachelor in the whole of America. My client's brother in law. My baby daddy.

What had I done?

Mia POV

New York

Five Weeks Earlier

I stood in front of the mirror, carefully applying my makeup, and I couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions.

I had been invited to the wedding of my most loyal client, Sophia Coleman, Thornton in just a few hours. She was about to marry Patrick, one of the biggest software engineers and businessmen in the whole of America. It was a grand event that had garnered attention from the elite circles of society, and it was taking place on the Tribeca Rooftop.

Sophia had been a faithful patron of my services for years, and our professional relationship had developed into a genuine friendship. She had stood by me through thick and thin, and when she had sent me an invitation to her wedding, I couldn't refuse.

Even though I had recently gone through a painful divorce and the idea of attending a wedding felt like salt in the wound, today was about Sophia and Patrick, and I