Mr. Remington Got Me Pregnant novel Chapter 8

Landon’s POV

I was welcomed by silence. Not the peaceful kind. The kind that presses into your ears and makes the whole house feel like it’s holding its breath. The kind that tells you something’s off before your brain catches up.

Well, to be fair, it was always like this. Emery wasn’t exactly the talkative type.

Our house was big, polished, and way too quiet most days. I got used to it. She was always soft-spoken, always careful not to take up too much space. I used to tell myself that was just her nature.

I got home late that night, colder, exhausted, half-distracted. Two weeks overseas dealing with corporate vultures who only cared about numbers and power plays.

I was running on caffeine and short patience, just wanting a drink and maybe a few hours of actual sleep.

Dropping my suitcase, I loosened my tie and called out, “Tell the butler I want to meet the legal team tomorrow morning.”

No one said anything about Emery. I didn’t ask. I didn’t even think about her right away, which… says a lot now. I poured myself a drink and headed upstairs.

My steps echoed a little too sharply on the marble floor. When I reached the master bedroom, I paused.

Everything looked too still. Not untouched, but almost reset. Her side of the room looked cleaner than usual, too clean.

Shaking it off, I walked in, removing my watch and placing my phone on the nightstand. That’s when I saw it, something small and familiar sitting under the soft glow of the lamp.

Her wedding ring.

For a few seconds, I just stared at it, like it might explain itself. Then it hit me. I opened the closet. Some of her clothes were still there, but her favorites? Gone. I pulled open the drawers, empty.

The bathroom counter was cleared. No makeup bag, no perfume, her robe wasn’t behind the door. Her pillow looked perfectly fluffed, untouched. And that’s when it sank in. She was gone.

I spun on my heel and stormed down the hallway, fury already crawling up my spine.

At the top of the stairs, I shouted, “Everyone. Main hall. Now.”

The staff scrambled to assemble. Nervous glances. Shuffling feet. No one spoke. I scanned their faces one by one.

Pregnant.

I didn’t say anything, I couldn’t. “She begged to go out sometimes. Just for a drive. A walk. Anything to feel normal. You always said it wasn’t safe. You locked her in that house like she was a prisoner.”

“I was protecting her-”

“No, you were controlling her,” Isabel snapped. “You made her small. You broke her. And when I found out she was pregnant, I realized she was going to raise that baby alone in silence if she stayed. So I helped her leave. Because someone had to.”

My hands were clenched so tight the test might’ve snapped in half. My throat burned.

“You’ve lost her,” Isabel said, stepping back. “And she’s not coming back.”

Then she reached into her pocket, pulled out her employee badge, and dropped it on the floor. “I quit.”

The door shut behind her with a sharp click. I didn’t move, I couldn’t. My legs gave out and I sat hard on the edge of a nearby chair. My mind was spinning. Emery. Pregnant. Gone.

She had been carrying my child. She had been right here, and I never saw it. I looked down again, the test still in my hand. It didn’t say anything new. Just that one word. Pregnant.

And all I could think was: What have I done?