Fall For You( Love , marriage and divorce #3)

The opulent room seemed to shimmer with excitement, its white and gold decor a reflection of Monique's inner radiance. Sunlight streamed through floor-to-length windows, dancing off gilded mirrors and crystal chandeliers. The plush white carpet muffled her restless pacing as she moved between ornate furniture pieces, each carefully selected to complement the room's luxurious theme.

Monique herself was a vision of understated elegance. Her simple sundress couldn't hide the innate grace of her movements or the ethereal beauty of her features. Dark hair cascaded over her shoulders, framing a face that needed no adornment to captivate. Her eyes, usually a calm sea of blue, now sparkled with anticipation.

Clinton was coming home.

There were no words to describe the happiness that surged through Monique's veins. It had been three long months since she'd last seen him-three months of longing glances at his photos, of falling asleep clutching her phone after their nightly calls. His business trip had taken him first to the rugged landscapes of Central Asia, then to the sun-drenched shores of Greece. And while she'd been proud of his work, the ache of his absence had been a constant companion.

She missed everything about him: his presence that filled a room, the tender touch of his hand on the small of her back, the way his laughter could brighten even her darkest days. The thought of finally being reunited made her heart race with a giddy excitement she hadn't felt since their early dating days.

Determined to make their reunion perfect, Monique had thrown herself into preparations. She glanced at her phone again, re-reading Clinton's message for the hundredth time. A smile tugged at her lips as she called out, "Louise!"

The door opened, and a plump, motherly woman entered the room. Louise's kind eyes immediately noted the radiant smile on Monique's face, and she couldn't help but return it.

"Good news?" she asked, though the answer was written all over Monique's glowing expression.

Monique turned, practically bouncing on her toes. "That was Clinton," she confirmed, her voice filled with barely contained joy.

Louise's smile widened. The young woman's happiness was infectious, filling the room with an almost tangible energy. "Sir is finally coming back home?" she asked, already knowing the answer.

Monique nodded enthusiastically. She grabbed her designer handbag from a nearby chaise lounge, already heading for the door. "Can you take care of Sahara for me?" she asked, referring to her beloved five year old daughter. "I need to go to the spa. Oh, and while you're at it, book me a weeks stay at the Courtyard"

Louise's eyebrows rose at the mention of the Courtyard-the city's only five-star hotel, known for its unparalleled luxury and discretion. A mixture of curiosity and amusement danced in her eyes as she watched Monique's retreating form.

As the door closed behind her young employer, Louise couldn't help but sigh softly. To be young and so deeply in love-it was a beautiful thing to witness. She shook her head fondly and set about her tasks, already looking forward to seeing the couple reunited after their long separation.

Monique's heels clicked against the marble floors as she hurried towards her car, her mind already racing with plans. The spa would help her relax and feel her absolute best. And the Courtyard... well, that would be the perfect setting for a passionate reunion, away from the prying eyes of staff and the responsibilities of home.

Her heart soared as she imagined Clinton's reaction. After three months apart, she intended to make this a homecoming he would never forget.

Time couldn't move fast enough for Monique. The spa treatments had left her feeling refreshed and pampered, but did little to quell the anticipation bubbling within her. As evening approached, she made her way to the presidential suite she had booked at the Courtyard.

Standing before the floor-to-ceiling mirror, Monique's impatient heart finally calmed. The woman staring back at her was stunning – voluminous dark hair cascaded over her shoulders, her makeup exquisitely applied to enhance her natural beauty. The sheer lingerie she had chosen hugged her curves perfectly, leaving just enough to the imagination.

"It was worth it," she murmured, a small smile playing on her lips.

As the skies outside darkened, painting the city in hues of purple and gold, Monique's excitement reached a fever pitch. When the doorbell finally rang, her heart leapt into her throat. This was it – the moment she had been dreaming of for three long months.

She hurried to the door, her body thrumming with anticipation. Without hesitation, she threw it open, ready to throw herself into Clinton's arms.

The sight of him standing there, as handsome as ever in his tailored suit, made her heart skip a beat. Even after ten years together, he still had the power to make her blush like a lovestruck teenager.

"Babe..." she began, stepping forward. But something in his expression made her pause.

A frown marred Clinton's handsome features as his eyes took in her appearance and the opulent suite behind her. This was not the warm, passionate reunion she had envisioned.

"Clinton?" she whispered, confusion and a hint of fear creeping into her voice.

Clinton cleared his throat, his gaze darting away from her scantily clad form. "Maybe you should cover up," he said, his tone oddly formal.

Monique felt as if she had been doused in ice water. She wrapped her arms around herself, suddenly feeling exposed in a way that had nothing to do with her lingerie. "I... I don't understand," she stammered. "I thought you'd be happy to see me. To have some time alone together after being apart for so long."

Clinton's jaw tightened. He stepped into the room, closing the door behind him, but maintained a distance between them that felt like a chasm. "Monique," he began, his voice heavy with an emotion she couldn't quite place. "We need to talk."

Those four words sent a chill down her spine. She had heard them before, in movies and from friends recounting their breakups. But surely, that couldn't be what was happening here. Not after ten years. Not when she had been counting down the days, hours, minutes until this moment.

"Talk?" she echoed, her voice small. "About what? Clinton, what's going on?"

He ran a hand through his hair, a gesture she had always found endearing but now filled her with dread.

Monique watched with growing dread as Clinton placed an envelope on the nearby table. She frowned, wondering where it had materialized from. Alarm bells rang in her mind at the sight of the official-looking document.

Taking a subconscious step back, she asked, her voice barely a whisper, "What's that?"

Clinton ran a hand through his hair and sighed heavily. "Divorce papers."

The words hit Monique like a physical blow. She stood immobilized, her lungs devoid of air.

"What did you say?" she managed to choke out, praying she had misheard.

"I've been seeing someone else," Clinton continued, his voice flat and devoid of the warmth she once knew.

Monique shook her head in protest, unable to process the words she was hearing.

"I'm sorry," he added, almost as an afterthought.

Sorry. The word echoed in Monique's mind, igniting a fire of rage within her. What good was 'sorry' when he had just shattered her dreams and destroyed their lives? She wished she could force that hollow apology back down his throat.

"When... who... how long...?" The string of unfinished questions tumbled from her lips, each word laced with pain and disbelief.

Clinton's response was cold. "Does it matter?"

Monique shot him a hateful glare. "Who?" she bit out, needing to know the identity of the woman who had stolen her husband's heart.

"Lydia," he replied, his tone devoid of emotion. "She's pregnant....its a boy....she's due anytime...''