CHAPTER EIGHTY-NINE

I was in a frozen state, unable to think properly. How could Clinton keep this from me? Is he perhaps living a double life like most billionaires do? My mind kept asking questions, and tears rolled down my cheeks freely.

“Welcome home, Mr. Clinton.” I heard Matilda greet him. Realizing he was home, I wiped away my tears, folded the paper, and hid it in my dress, as I needed to go confirm it myself. After making sure the paper was well hidden, I walked out of the office straight to the bedroom. I put myself to bed after securely hiding the paper.

“My love,” he said as soon as he walked in, but I pretended to be asleep. He walked up to me and kissed my cheeks, and then he removed the blanket and kissed my bump.

“How have you been?” He said, and I didn’t respond, not only in character, as I knew he was greeting his babies, “I hope you were good to Mommy, now let me greet my wife,” he said.

He then brought his lips to mine, he forced a kiss, and I was tempted to respond as I always get ho