Ah! Mrs Gates, you're glowing. Your husband is taking good care of you. You keep getting more beautiful by the day.” “Of course, Mr Clinton loves his wife the most. Can't you see how in love they are? Do you think he would let her do something as stressful as working?” “That's true. I wish I were in her shoes. A perfect billionaire housewife with a doting husband who worships her. The last time he bought Star of the Sea at the auction, I immediately knew that his love for her was unlimited,” another high-class woman chimed as I passed by them. I halted in my tracks. Star of the Sea? How come I can't remember him giving it to me? Before I could process everything, another figure stepped in. A figure that I dread mentioning her name. Yeah, it was her. Louisa Carter, my husband’s childhood sweetheart. The woman whose existence threatens to tear my marriage apart. “How does it feel to be divorcing the man you love? Why didn't you tell those silly women the truth— that you're nothing to Clinton? You're just trash, not worth mentioning.” She hissed. I looked up at her the moment I heard divorce. Clinton has not told our family yet and even ordered me to keep it a secret. How did she know? “Mrs Gates? What a joke!” she continued. You're just sitting on an empty shell. His heart, his body, his wealth, his company, they all belong to me. You have nothing except the name. ******* Everyone in the city assumed Joanna was the precious wife of Clinton Gates because of how boastful he was of her. What they didn’t know was that all he did was just a public stunt until Joanna boldly threw divorce papers in his face.
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JOANA’S POV “I am indeed pregnant…” I whispered to myself as I stared at the two bold lines on each of the seven pregnancy test strips lying on the table. I decided to take a test this morning after struggling with incessant bouts of nausea and dizzy spells for the past three days. My heart leaped with joy as I scanned each of the strips for the umpteenth time this morning to make sure that I was seeing right. And that I wasn't having one of those dreams again. I couldn't help but imagine my husband’s reaction when he got to know I was finally carrying a treasure for him. My husband, Clinton Gates is a third-generation billionaire and the sole heir of Gates Group. Although he has been cold and indifferent to me, I have been fighting hard every day to fully win his heart. Despite his coldness towards me, never for once have I thought of giving up on our family. My hope for a change has been soaring even higher now that I was carrying his child. I couldn't help but let out a chuckle as the reality of my pregnancy sunk in. I could feel the excitement bubbling up in me as my heart swelled and threatened to burst with joy. “Excuse me, ma'am.” I heard a voice say, interrupting my daydream. It was our maid, Alba, standing and fiddling with her fingers. “Yes, any problem? “Should I dish out your food now?” She asked in a low pitiful tone. I took a deep breath and shook my head slightly “No, I'm not hungry yet.” I replied as gently as I could. “Madam, are you sure you're not hungry? Should I perhaps give you some water?” She asked again, anticipating that at least I drunk some water. But no. I wouldn't. I have told her countless times that she shouldn't serve my food until my husband comes home. But she’s always worried that the food will run cold or I will even end up not eating since he comes home late every night. “No need, I'm fine Alba.” She nodded and excused herself. As she descended the stairs, my thoughts trailed to how it all started. It was a month ago, on Claudia Gate, Clinton’s sister’s death anniversary. I'd made the mistake of letting my emotions and his grief cloud my judgment. That night, Clinton had drowned himself in whiskey, barely able to stand on his own as he stumbled into the room we once shared. He reeked of so much alcohol, and his hair and outfit were totally disheveled as though he had been run over by a car. I had tried to comfort him, but surprisingly things spiraled out of control. One kiss led to another. And before I could stop myself we were tangled in sheets. It wasn't the tender moment I might have once dreamt of– it was raw, desperate, and full of pain. But I was happy nonetheless. However, my illusions of a newly reunited happy family were stripped away the next morning. The look of disgust on his face said it all. Clinton's sharp words were still etched into my mind “Take something to flush it out. I don't want any surprises.” He had told me in a voice devoid of any emotions as he woke up and buttoned his shirt the next morning. My heart broke into irredeemable pieces at that moment. And now with the test strip in my hand, I knew he wasn't going to take my disobedience lightly. It's been an hour past dinner time. Yet, there was no sign of his coming. Just when I reached out to pick up my phone to call him, the sudden sound from the TV startled me. It was the evening news. The news anchor’s voice was crisp and celebratory as she announced the first headline. “Breaking news: Gates Group has officially become the second richest company in Hera city, surpassed only by the Henshaw Group” My heart skipped a beat at the mention of my husband’s company. This was an unprecedented victory, one that he has so worked tirelessly for. Maybe this news, coupled with the news of my pregnancy could soften his distant demeanor. Perhaps tonight, we could celebrate–both his success and the new life growing inside of me. Picking up my phone, I dialed Clinton's number with my hands trembling. He picked up after the third ring. “Joana?” His voice was curt, but it always had a way of making my heart skip. “Uh, Clinton..” He had warned me never to call him sweet names as it always irked him. “When are you coming home? I…I made dinner for us.” I said, trying to keep the nervous tremor out of my voice. He paused. And I swear I could almost hear him calculating whether this was worth his time. “I'll be there,” he finally spoke “I have something for you too” I grinned. Maybe he was in a good mood already, and this night would be the turning point I'd be yearning for. I just couldn't wait for him to get home. ******* I smiled warmly as I watched him walk through the doorway. He had a striking presence; he was tall, handsome, and well–dressed in his CEO attire. He looked so irresistible, especially in his navy blue tie that matched his eyes and jet-black hair. I'd already planned everything, I'd reveal the good news to him while we were having dinner. He would be surprised at first, but the joy of being a father would outweigh all other emotions. “Oh, you're back home. Welcome.” I greeted softly, moving towards him to embrace him. He stiffened in my hands and slowly let out a grumpy huff. I took that as my clue to let go. “I made your favorite tonight,” I said softly. He scowled, the disgust and uninterest evident on his face. But I wasn't going to let that weigh me down. “We need to talk. Come with me.” He said, asking me to join him in his study. I noticed he held a rectangular envelope in his hand, and his jaw seemed clenched indicating a serious matter. What was going on? Was there anything to be afraid of at the moment? What did he want to discuss? My heartbeat slowly increased but I took a deep breath to calm myself. “Is there any problem?” I asked, feeling uneasy. He sighed, appearing uncomfortable as he let out a scowl deepening my worry.216JOANA’S POVThe garden never appeared so enchanted.The sunlight streamed through the willow upon the white-covered chairs, wove through the aisle sprinkled with petals of the flowers, and above the small arch of vines and rose blush. And the air filled my nostrils with lavender and fresh earth, a mingling scent, reminding me of peace.Soothing music was in the background. A gentle piano melody—the one Clinton had chosen.The seats were full and people attended it quietly. Caleb was standing beside the archway in a grey suit, which rounded off the angularity of his character. His eyes took a moment to meet mine through the distance and he nodded at me encouragingly. Ciara whirred through, just putting the final touches, clutching her clipboard like a relic of the holy. Mirabel, Japheth, and Jake were giddy in their mini-formals, fidgeting with their roles but glowing all the same.And I?I stood, as inaudible as possible, with a beating heart hidden behind the curtain of my veil,
215JOANA’S POVI stared at him, with my eyes closing against the emotion that rose in me. "You don’t need to break a sweat, Caleb.”“Yes, I do,” he said quietly. “Because this isn’t just about me. It never was. You’ve been through hell, Joana. And you came back stronger. Smarter. Softer, too. You deserve this happiness. You deserve a future. If I can’t be the one walking beside you in it… the least I can do is stand by while you walk into it.”My tears flowed before I had time to restrain them.I rose and walked over to where he sat, got down on my knees before the chair. I would have asked something selfish.He turned down his head with an expression, inscrutable to me. “Go on.”"We have not fixed upon a date yet," I said, with a nervous laugh I wiped my cheeks. “But we know it won’t be long. Clinton’s getting stronger, faster than anyone thought. And now that we’ve decided, it just… it feels right to get on with it.”Caleb nodded.“So I was going to ask if… if you could wait. Just
214JOANA’S POVThe room became silent for a while, it wasn't the awkward kind.“Oh?” Clinton leaned forward slightly. “Good one, I hope?”“A very big one.” Caleb smiled, but again—it felt too manufactured. “It’s a long-term expansion deal. Overseas. Possibly in Europe. Might take… a while.”I frowned. “How long is a while?”He shrugged, eyes darting away. “Months. Maybe longer. Could be… years.”I sat forward. “Caleb, that’s… that’s big.”“Yeah.” His voice dropped. “It is.”There was a beat of silence before he added, more quietly than before, “I’ll be leaving next week.”Clinton blinked. “That soon?”“Negotiations just wrapped. I need to be there to finalise and oversee the groundwork.”I studied him carefully. His body language wasn’t just that of someone preparing for a business trip. There was weight in his voice—farewell weight. The kind people use when they’ve already decided they won’t be coming back.“You’re not planning on returning, ” I said, not as a question but a truth.
213JOANA’S POVI felt the world narrow, spinning inward like a collapsing tunnel. All the progress. All the hope. Gone in one instant.“No,” I whispered. “No, that can’t be right. You were just—last night—you stood. You danced with me. You—”“I know,” Clinton murmured. “It was the last time. I should’ve known. It hurt more than I let on.”I staggered back a step. My breath hitched. I was about to break.And then—Caleb laughed.Not a nervous chuckle. Not a sympathetic smile.No.He burst into laughter.I blinked. Once. Twice.“What… what did you just—?”Caleb doubled over, slapping Clinton’s shoulder like a proud prankster. “Oh my God, Joana! Your face—your face! I wish I’d recorded it!”Clinton broke into a grin.“You guys—?” I stared between them, stunned. “You lied to me?!”Caleb wiped a tear from his eye. “Clinton’s leg is fine. Better than fine. That cast? It’s not even his. It was used earlier in a therapy demonstration, and we borrowed it for dramatic effect.”Clinton shrugged
212 JOANA’S POV The house was unusually quiet for a Saturday afternoon. The kind of quiet that felt loaded. Intentional. Like the walls were holding their breath. Normally, weekends at our place were loud and unpredictable—filled with Mirabel’s endless curiosity, Japheth and Jake’s wrestling matches, and the occasional crash followed by a “We’re okay!” from somewhere down the hall. But today? Today was different. Today was Clinton’s return. The kids had taken it upon themselves to transform the living room into what they called “Daddy’s Welcome Palace.” Streamers hung unevenly from the ceiling fan. Bright paper crafts dangled from picture frames. However, there was glitter, not the fun kind, it was all over the coffee table, like a fairy crime scene. And central in it all was this new masterpiece of Mirabel, a colossal signboard which ran: WELCOME BACK SUPER DADDY ...in large bubble letters outlined with purple stars and crooked sparkles. I was standing there at th
211JOANA’S POVOn our way home, the children were asleep already.Mirabel had cuddled up next to Clinton in the car holding his shirt in a tiny hand as though she had no intention of ever releasing him. In the back seat, Japheth and Jake lay out cold, their arms and legs intertwined like puppies.Caleb carried them tenderly to their room; Clinton and I being leisurely enough to get Mirabel to bed. Something about the mean girl, and the pretty slide and then she closed her eyes and slept very deeply and very happily.After that Clinton and I went together down the hall a few steps, the house looking dreamily orange in the sconce-lights, shadows leaping and jouncing on the walls."So... fiancée?" I said, arms across, one eyebrow coming up.He looked sheepish."Yeah, I figured you'd catch that.""You think?""It slipped out. Heat of the moment. You were being slapped, and I was being protective. It just... came out."I chuckled. "Mmm. Protective Clinton comes with labels now. Got it."H
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