The Secret Pregnancy of the Billionaire's Ex-Wife

Chapter 7

Chapter 7: I Found My Husband's Cufflink On Her Bed

Angela POV

When I woke the next morning, both Sean and Christina were gone.

The suspicion that had been gnawing at me all night suddenly felt like certainty - they must have spent the night together.

I couldn't help myself; I had to know.

My feet carried me to Christina's guest room before I could think better of it. I hesitated for just a moment before pushing the door open, slipping inside like an intruder in my own home.

The room was immaculate, pristine sheets perfectly made, everything in its proper place. There was no obvious sign that Sean had spent the night here, but Christina's signature perfume still lingered in the air, marking her territory.

I was suddenly distracted by a small shiny object next to the pillow.

I walked over, picked it up, and realized it was a pure gold cufflink. The engraved "S" reminded me it was Sean's! The one I gave him for his birthday last year.

So he really did sleep with Christina last night!

Soon this will be her bedroom, not just a guest room, I thought bitterly. Everything that's mine will become hers.

"Oh! Excuse me, Mrs. Shaw."

I startled at the maid's voice, turning to find the maid Sarah hovering uncertainly in the doorway with cleaning supplies.

The knowing look in her eyes made my cheeks burn - how pathetic must I seem, sneaking around my own home looking for evidence of my husband's infidelity?

I retreated to my room, mortification following me like a shadow. I had barely sat down when a knock came at my door.

"Mrs. Shaw?" Sarah's voice came through the door. "Would you like your breakfast brought up?"

"No, thank you." The thought of food made my stomach roll. "When did Mr. Shaw and Miss Jordan leave?"

A slight pause. "They left early this morning. Mr. Shaw had a breakfast meeting, and Miss Jordan accompanied him."

Of course she did.

a pale version of myself - designer clothes hanging slightly

wife, even as my marriage crumbled

me.

morning

knew it was

life

waiting for her

pretending not to hear the fragments of conversation that followed me. Two years of practice had

cut through the whispers like a

of your

his office, grateful

you take these."

"Anti-fever medication, I believe. He was quite insistent about the timing -

the white paper, I could feel the sharp edges of pill boxes that might or

Sean's concern for my health could unknowingly harm

to leave,

Shaw..." He hesitated, something unusual for the usually unflappable manager. "Perhaps you'd like to

was clear - Christina wanted

concern," I

the strongest bonds can be tested by time and distance, Mrs. Shaw. Two years is

I clutched

pills onto the marble counter, studying the labels with desperate intensity.

Dr. Morrison, my regular physician,

news would reach Sean

if there

bottle and started pouring the pills into

"What are you doing?"

froze me in place. In the mirror, I could see him standing in the doorway, his expression unreadable. The pills felt like burning coal in my palm, each one a potential betrayal of

He stepped closer, his reflection growing larger in the mirror. "Put the

"I don't need them."

burning up. What's really going on?" His hand came to rest on

eyes, meeting his reflection's stare. "I just don't like taking medication I don't

the pills. "You've never