Mr. Remington Got Me Pregnant novel Chapter 14

Landon’s POV

I woke up with a pounding headache and the bitter aftertaste of whiskey still clinging to the back of my throat. My mouth was dry, my body sore, and my brain felt like it had been torn apart and stitched back together by someone who didn’t know what they were doing.

But even that kind of pain didn’t come close to the one that stayed buried in my chest, the ache of missing my wife. Emery had been gone for six weeks, and I still couldn’t breathe right without her.

The night before played back in flashes, snapping at the investigator, shouting at Marian, whispering Emery’s name into a room that had nothing left of her.

Every corner of the house felt colder now, stripped of warmth, hollow in places that used to hold life.

I didn’t bother with anything clean. I grabbed the first shirt I could find, left the buttons crooked, and forced myself down the stairs.

The house was already moving around me—dishes clinking in the kitchen, someone flipping the newspaper in the other room like it was just another morning.

When I walked into the dining room, I didn’t say a word. My mother was seated at the head of the table, drinking her coffee with the same calm expression she wore at every crisis she helped cause.

Lily sat next to her, thumbing through her phone like the world didn’t matter.

I pulled out a chair, sat down, and reached for a glass of water. My head throbbed like someone had driven nails through it.

“You should call Marian,” my mother said, not even bothering to look at me.

Lily chimed in without lifting her eyes. “She’s been asking about you.”

I kept my eyes on the glass in my hand. “Not interested.”

That made my mother look up, her tone going sharp. “Landon, at some point you’re going to have to move forward.”

I slammed the glass down hard enough to make the silverware jump. “I said I’m not interested.”

The silence that followed was instant and perfect. No one spoke, no one breathed. I stood up without another word and walked out, not bothering to explain myself.

Let them sit in their confusion for once. I was done playing politely.

Upstairs, I grabbed my phone off the charger, my pulse already racing. There was one missed call, no name. I hit redial without thinking, praying it wasn’t another dead end.

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