Alpha Billionaire Series

WILLOW

woke up cold, shivering. My wet hair hadn't even been fully rinsed off the conditioner in the shower before Charles" invasion of my privacy. Not that I'd minded one bit. The entire night I'd spent my time craving him, wishing we could transport ourselves back to the night he'd broken it off with me—undo our entire seven-year separation.

I loved him.

Alot.

I wanted to tell him too, but he kept having mini side-bar conversations with Nina all night. I hated it. He didn’t have a job that was top secret or anything, but the way he had snickering fits with Nina about things I knew nothing abou made me furious. It was possible that they'd worked together for so long they had the sort of bond that would allow an open relationship, but I didn’t see that out of Nina. She was the possessive type, jealous, infuriating.

“Charles?” I rolled over in bed, unable to sleep. It was cold. He wasn't there. I realized that I was lying on top of the comforter, the edge folded across me, which was the reason I was so cold. That and the fact that my hair was wet. “Charles?” I called again, squinting in the darkness. Light from the bathroom streamed out into the suite, but I couldn't see him. I had a major kink in my neck, which restricted my movements to the speed of a turtle as I sat up.Belongs © to NôvelDrama.Org.

I was hungry. I hadn't eaten anything at dinner because everything made my stomach turn. Now I was regretting that decision. I stood, shivering again, and found my suitcase. I rifled through it, finding a pair of shorts and a t-shirt and putting them on. It didn’t help with the chill very much, but at least my skin was covered. I walked to the bathroom and relieved myself, half expecting to find Charles in there, but he wasn’t there either.

When I returned, I noticed a light flicker across the room. It glowed for a moment then disappeared. Tiptoeing silently in that direction, I watched the light appear then vanish once more, and as my eyes adjusted to it, I could se that it was Charles's cell phone. He sat on the couch sleeping, naked, with his phone in his hand. My eyes adjusted further, and I saw the empty mini bottles laying around him. At least a dozen of them. He'd gotten into the mini bar after I fell asleep and drank every last bottle.

I could have smacked him, but I didn’t. I felt sorry for him. The pressure of the political world was getting to him. I could see it. He had to be perfect all the time, on his game, ready to answer stupid questions and always prepared for a TV appearance. All because at any given moment someone could be recording him and share it with the tabloids. Exhausting.

I padded over to the closet and pulled out the extra blanket stored away on the top shelf, dragging it back over to the couch to cover him. Then I picked up all the empty bottles and threw them away quietly, though I didn’t think an amount of noise I made would rouse him from his drunken slumber. He groaned a bit when I pried the remote out of his left hand. I didn't know why he had it. He hadn't been watching TV.

When I took his phone out of his hand, the screen lit up. He had several notifications, most of which were texts from Nina. My heart raced a little, upset that he'd be texting her in the middle of the night. I could only see previews of th messages, not the full text, but what I read was pretty damning and very hurtful.

Nina I:43 AM: So anyway, I was thinking tomorrow we could...

Nina I:44 AM: Are you there?

Nina I:45 AM: And you're right. That did feel much better this time than last time...

I stopped reading when I saw those words. What felt better than what time? I was angry. Nina should not be messaging my husband in the middle of the night no matter who she was or how long they'd known each other. Not unless she was stranded on the side of the road and needed gas or something.

Rage got the better of me and I wanted to smash the phone. Instead, I noticed a glass next to Charles on the end table that had some sort of liquid in it so I dropped the phone into it and walked away.

Good luck texting him now, bitch... I thought, collapsing into bed. My heart felt so torn. Charles and I were perfect together. There was no planet on which both of us in a relationship did not make sense. Tears burned my eyes as I crawled under the blanket and tried to get comfortable. I wanted him with me in bed. I wanted to make sure he didn't try to fish out his phone and message her.

Why was I feeling so possessive when this was nothing more than an arrangement? But why would he ask me to make love to him when we were only doing this for show? I sobbed, curled up around what was supposed to be his pillow, lying in the center of the bed where he was supposed to be holding me. That's how that was supposed to work. He asked me to make love. He was supposed to be holding me, not texting some other woman.

If Charles thought this was how life was going to be, then I was done even thinking about telling him about the baby, or my feelings for him. He got nothing. I wasn’t going to compete with a blonde bimbo.

When the election was over, I was leaving. I wanted to go home and spend time with my parents and Mr. Boots anyway. It was the perfect excuse to disappear to rural Virginia and find solace away from the city. With the payout from this arrangement, I could afford to take the time off work and look around for where to expand our firm, and Mel would definitely cover for me. Eventually I'd have to tell him about the baby, but only when I was ready.

Until then, I'd play the best political wife I could, and pray that my heart survived the breaking that would happen when I got that check and walked away.