He Wants An Open Marriage? Done!

Meanwhile, not very far away from Christian’s hotel, Roxanne pulled her car into the concrete parking garage of Flowergarden Cafe. The engine hummed softly before she cut the ignition, leaving her surrounded by a quiet stillness.

She exhaled a long breath and looked through the glass walls of the sunlit venue. Then she turned her gaze to the steering wheel, taking a slow breath as she nodded to herself.

"If things go as planned, then this whole nightmare ends today," she murmured, her voice steady despite the nervous thump in her chest. "Knowing Cara, she might try to be stubborn. Either way, I have to stand my ground."

She opened the door, the mild afternoon breeze carrying the faint scent of roasted coffee beans as she stepped out. Her heels clicked steadily against the floor as she made her way into the cafe.

Soft acoustic music played over the ceiling speakers, and the air felt calm and inviting, almost as if the quiet sanctuary was completely unprepared for the storm about to pass through it.

Roxanne had barely selected a secluded table near the back when the front glass door chimed.

Cara walked inside, wearing dark sunglasses and a tailored blazer. Her eyes swept across the room before landing directly on Roxanne. Keeping her face completely unreadable, she strode forward, her posture stiff with defense.

"Hello, Cara," Roxanne said smoothly, rising to her feet.

Cara pressed her painted lips into a thin line, sliding into the opposite chair without offering a greeting. "Do not mistake this meeting for us being friends," she began, her tone cold and clipped. "We are here strictly to discuss strategy and figure out how to make this public circus work in both our favor."

Roxanne offered no immediate reply. She sat back down, keeping her expression calm and composed as she refused to let Cara’s negative energy rattle her focus.

She adjusted her posture, taking a brief pause to gather her thoughts before speaking. "Shall we get straight to business then?" she asked softly.

Cara signaled a passing waiter, ordered an iced espresso with a dismissive wave of her hand, and then turned back to face Roxanne. "I am listening," she said, folding her arms across her chest.

Roxanne leaned forward slightly, resting her hands flat against the tabletop. She could feel her pulse racing, but she kept her breathing slow and controlled.

"I want to offer you the chance to tell me the absolute truth about this pregnancy," she stated, her eyes locking onto Cara’s. "Is the baby truly Richard’s? And what is the real status of your past relationship?"

Cara stared at her, her lips pouting as if she were weighing the pros and cons of answering. Finally, she leaned across the table, her eyes narrowing with sharp anger.

"I will tell you the background only because I need you to see reason," Cara sneered softly. "If you have any semblance of a conscience inside that chest of yours, you will step aside so he can be with his child."

Roxanne nodded slowly, keeping her posture grounded. It took every ounce of her internal restraint not to smile right then, because she already held all the missing pieces of the puzzle. But she remained silent, giving Cara the floor to speak while keeping her own heart rate steady.

Cara cleared her throat, adjusting her designer jacket. "Richard and I were never a perfect couple, much like anyone else," she began, her voice dropping into a rehearsed rhythm. "We had our ups and downs, but we always came back to each other in the end. Our relationship only fractured because—"

She paused, shaking her head as if painful memories were resurfacing. "Because I made a mistake and cheated. It was intense back then. The public embarrassment for a powerful man like him was too much, but I was drunk."

Cara shook her head again, her eyes glistening with unshed tears that looked almost practiced.

Roxanne kept her breathing slow and steady, careful not to interrupt so she could absorb every detail of the story. She watched the subtle tremor in Cara’s hands, noticing how every movement seemed carefully calculated to win sympathy.

Suddenly, Cara’s expression shifted, the vulnerable act vanishing instantly. "Enough of the past," she snapped, exhaling sharply through her nose. "Let us stop talking about Richard and me. We need to keep our focus on—"

"Are you actually pregnant, Cara?" Roxanne asked smoothly, cutting through the deflection without raising her voice.

Cara’s eyes widened slightly, the unexpected question catching her off guard. She swallowed hard, her hand twitching against her purse before she shrugged it off. "What kind of ridiculous question is that?" she scoffed. "Of course I am pregnant. Have you already forgotten the medical records I showed you last night?"

Roxanne nodded calmly. "I did not forget them, which is precisely why I am giving you this private moment to come clean with me. It is just the two of us here."

Cara let out a harsh laugh, resting her elbows heavily on the surface of the table. "So that is what this meeting is about," she said, nodding slowly as a bitter sneer spread across her face. "I should have known you were up to no good."

Roxanne’s smile remained gentle, though her tone grew firm. "I am giving you a clean exit, Cara," she insisted. "And I strongly advise you to take it."

Cara’s brows pulled together tightly as she tried to decipher the calm confidence in Roxanne’s eyes. "I have told you the facts. If you invited me out here just to ask foolish questions, I had better be on my way," she spat, pushing her chair back from the table.

Roxanne did not flinch. "I have proof that you fabricated everything," she revealed quietly. Then she leaned forward. "I know you are lying."

The color drained from Cara’s face in an instant. She froze halfway out of her seat before slowly settling back down. Her throat bobbed as she swallowed with difficulty. "What? What are you even talking about?" she stammered, her voice losing its sharp edge. "Lying about what?"

"About being pregnant. About Richard being the father. About the entire story," Roxanne listed, her voice cool and unwavering.

Cara forced a scoff, though her fingers trembled as she reached for her glass. "Nonsense. You are bluffing."

"Do you really think so?" Roxanne asked softly, leaning in slightly closer.

Cara nodded quickly, her chest heaving with rising anxiety. "You are bluffing because everything I presented was valid, and I have official paperwork to back it up."

Roxanne shook her head gently. "We both know the lab reports are fake, Cara. I have enough evidence to prove that your pregnancy story is fabricated," she explained, keeping her voice low to protect their privacy. "I came here so we could resolve this privately, allowing you to walk away with your dignity intact. I have no desire to publicly expose you unless you force my hand."

Cara’s eyes flickered with panic. Her mind was visibly racing as her fingers nervously shredded a paper napkin on the table. She shook her head fiercely, trying to deny the reality closing in on her.

"There is no way. That is impossible," she whispered to herself. She glared up at Roxanne, her mask of composure shattering entirely. "I never faked anything! And guess what? I am done listening to you trying to get me to admit something that isn’t true!"

Cara shoved her chair back violently, standing up so fast her iced drink sloshed over the rim. She turned on her heel and stormed toward the exit, her heavy footsteps echoing against the floor.

Roxanne watched her go, taking a deep breath as the door swung shut behind Cara. She instinctively rested a hand over her belly. Whatever happened next, she would not allow anyone to threaten the future she was building for her child.

"I gave her every opportunity," she murmured into the quiet space of the booth. "I guess this is how it has to be."

Roxanne stared at the door Cara had disappeared through, her fingers tightening around her phone. She had genuinely wanted to give Cara one final opportunity to walk away quietly. But Cara had made her choice.

Roxanne lowered her gaze to the evidence still open on her screen. She had spent too long allowing other people to dictate the story of her life. Not anymore.

She picked up her phone and dialed a familiar contact number.

"Hello," Roxanne said, her tone absolute and unyielding. "I have an anonymous tip regarding the ongoing pregnancy scandal."

Her gaze remained fixed on the closed door as she listened to the person on the other end of the line speak. Her heart pounded, but she refused to second-guess herself. Cara had been given every opportunity to walk away quietly.

Now, the truth needed to speak for itself.

And once the evidence reached the right hands, there would be nowhere left for Cara to hide.

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