CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE

Clinton’s POV

I woke up earlier like usual, as these days I’ve been waking up early to check on my son. I didn’t want him to wake up and feel alone. I glanced at my wife, who was sleeping next to me. She was snoring peacefully, her eyes closely pressed together, she hated mornings, and the sun rays disturbed her.

I covered her fragile body and after kissing her cheeks I got up and headed to my son's room. I had to see him before I washed up.

“Good boy, nice,” I heard Sophia’s voice from outside, she was feeding him. I admired her for a moment picturing my wife in her position, she had never for once fed him —I guess she had her reasons. I was a man, I needed to make her feel a bond with our son, I needed her to start feeling what I felt for our son.

“Good morning,” I greeted as I walked in and shook myself out of my thoughts. I didn’t want to compare my wife to her, my wife couldn’t be compared to anyone, she was incomparable despite her failure to do her housewife duties.

“Good mor