Mommy, Is The President Our Daddy? The Ex-Wife's Return

Zendaya's POV

If pathetic and miserable were a person then there'd be no perfect comparison to those words, as myself.

My life was the perfect description of them. I stared out the transparent glass of my office, watching everyone mingle with themselves, laughing and cheering each other.

Here I am, brooding over my sad and lonely life. I thought it was said that life is hard and tough for the ugly, but I was nowhere near any of that. No hard feelings to anyone, but I am an epitome of beauty. An hourglass shaped body any man would die for, and would undoubtedly make some ladies really jealous.

There's my mesmerizing emerald eyes and high cheekbones, hard to come by. 5 feet 8 tall, full, luscious lips and a symmetrical face. Definitely, I am a complete charm. But, my parents turned out to be the perfect obstacle sent to ruin my perfectly, outlined world.

Everything spiralled the very day I was made to enter into a contract marriage with Asher Smith.

When I first met him, he was running for the presidential post in the country. He got appointed a president afew days after the marriage, where he won the election.

One would think I would have it all, having a solid career as a lawyer and getting married to the number one citizen of the country– the president. That should at least come with a whole lot of nice things. However, my case appears different.

Leaning further into the chair, I twirled it around with my eyes closed. Still trying to brood, but my belly clearly has other plans for me. It growled loudly.

This is the part of my day at work that I hated so much; having lunch. No one seem to want to be my friend or have anything to do with me at work. If I wasn't so bad at making lunch so early on my way to work. I would have chosen to make my own meals and eat here in my office.

Even if that was the case, there was still a need for me to eat in the break room with every other person. It never gets better.

Sighing into resolve, i tapped on my phone for my daily order. They were just on time, as I heard the knock on the door.

"Here is your order ma'am." The delivery boy smiled at me. He seems to be the only one oblivious to my predicament.

"You are always on time. Thank you so much." I mumbled sincerely. Searching my bag, I handed him a tip for being so amazing.

Dragging my swollen feet for having sat for too long, I squared my shoulders as I walked out of the office, down to the break room. Maybe I should have waited a bit longer, that would have left me all alone In the room with no disturbance.

Three young ladies who are clearly trainees and should accord me some respect, being a senior associate and all. But, like every other uncouth person in the firm, they had their nose turned up towards me.

'Breath, Zendaya.'

It's my daily mantra to prevent myself from actually going nuts and beating the shit out of whomever crosses my path. Funny thing is; it's just a thought I have in my mind every passing day just to feel alive.

Terrific!

Settling into the table with my back turned to them. I inhaled the heavenly smell of the fresh burger and chips. My belly rumbled in approval.

'Yes baby, we are about to get some.' I patted my belly.

"I heard he sleeps around with no remorse!" One of the girls who actually thinks she is whispering– or was speaking so loudly on purpose, said to the others.

These silly girls are gossiping about me when I am just a few feets away from them. For goodness sake, who the hell brought up these people?

Fine! I don't want to listen, I shouldn't. But I couldn't help it, even if I wanted to.

Another responded In a lower voice this time. "Who would have thought someone as good looking as herself would be at the receiving end of such treatment?"

They stayed silent and I could feel their eyes on me now, pretending not to hear a thing they said. I kept on with my food, their receding footsteps sounded like music to my ears. They were right about everything and it hurts so bad. At least, they were cautious enough to not say it to my face like my other colleagues do.

Just when I thought the torment was over, some other people passed by my table and I was sure they didn't even realize I was in the room right now, or they did, but chose to act oblivious.

They were all whispering between themselves. There's no doubt it's me they were talking about; words have it that my entire life happenings were juicy contents for gossip.

"I feel so much pity for Zendaya. Do you think he beats her?" One of them, whose voice sounded like she was being choked, said.

The first one who seemed to have started the gossip, responded, "Of course, he definitely beats her. But what woman stays put in a place she isn't loved. I can bet it with you; it's all for his money."

"He sure has money, no doubt." Said another as they giggled lightly. "Her life is such a pain, and a joke. I would never wish for such misery in my life."

When they finally walked away, I let out a relieved breath that I didn't even realize I was holding.

Everytime I remember that son of a gun named Asher whom I was in a contract marriage with, my insides boil so hard, I think I might explode. He is the reason I have become a laughing stock in the whole city. I can't even remember the time I've ever had an actual conversation with my supposed husband.

The only time we've exchanged a few words together, was when we had an official gathering that required my presence, whereby we were both required to put up a faux font for the public image.

It's how he makes me hate my life so much. If I had my way, I would throw a divorce paper in his face and move on without hesitation.

But, as always for a bad written fate like mine, there is a clause.

When my parents made me sign the marriage contract, it was more on a forced will. My own parents thought it right to threaten to cut me off my inheritance and erase my name from the will if I refuse to oblige.

The tears were falling now. My life really was pathetic! I've been trying to keep them at bay, but every time I remember what would become of me if I decide to fight for my freedom, I feel empty.

And it's all Asher's fault.

The humiliation would have been kept minimal if he isn't such a man whore. That bastard sleeps with anything in a skirt that spreads. I've never met someone so shameless in my entire life.

As a leader, he is a terrible example to follow. Anyone who has Asher as his or her mentor definitely needs their head checked. I really can't keep up with this continuous embarassment, my life almost has no meaning anymore. My name is always attached to him and there is nothing I can do to it.

On the other hand, there is definitely something that I can do. And that is to tell him off his horrible lifestyle. Taking a deep breath, even though I hate to do this, I trashed the rest of my meal.

Asher would have no choice but to listen to me today. That man can't have me under his nails. I also have a goddamn life to live.

Zendaya's POV

Whatever they added into the burger I ate definitely had some form of high pill in it. The zeal that got me off the chair I sat on in the lunchroom, and had me packing my bags to prepare for home, all abandoned me when I got into the car.

Almost like I had an epiphany; what the hell, Daya? I slammed my head on the steering in frustration. One thing I forgot to mention is how much that bastard's demeanor intimidates me. You would think he studied psychology in college, or probably did for real.

Asher's whole expression is to make the other person feel small and closed in. And if I would be sincere to myself, he has that effect on me too.

Come on, girl! You can do this!

This is why I should really consider some yoga classes, to enable some adequate control of my nerves. Cause why the hell are my palms sweaty and my breath keeps hitching? Especially when I'm not standing in his presence yet.

"Okay, just relax." I reminded myself loudly, "All I need to do is tell him how annoying and infuriating his whoring lifestyle is, and how he's ruining my life, and that's all."

There was also a need to keep it in mind, that it is essential to keep a straight face and not allow him get to me. Bowing my head, I counted fifty to one and it worked like magic. I was back to breathing normally.

I think I should really see a doctor at this point; I might be prone to have panic attacks. This crazy being called a husband might drive me off the cliff someday.

A husband whom I hated with everything in me, mind you.

Driving into the compound, I kept repeating the words to myself. Trying to master them, my heart picked up on another circle of race the moment I neared the large house.

Call me ancient, but I would have just love a condo in an environment filled with trees and flowers. Not to forget some peace and quiet. I hated this space where everywhere is swamped with so many people who intend to help you with everything.

They wouldn't mind wiping your ass if you asked them.

"Let me help you with that ma'am." One of the maids In the house offered, rushing towards me as I got out of the car.

I held out a hand, "you don't need to worry. I've got it."

She had a look of disappointment on her face and it did nothing but amused me.

"Go rest somewhere, girl!" I murmured as I waved her off.

Taking a deep breath; I decided to stay put in the sitting room. Knowing myself, I might cower into my fear and decide against confronting him if I go to my room. I haven't even had a second to myself when the maids swamped me to ask; what I would like to have. Deciding I might as well relax, I ordered a chilled glass of iced tea.

That should do.

Sipping on my drink, I clinked on the side of the glass with my manicured nails to keep my anxiety at bay. All of this luxuries would have been enjoyable if I was with the man I love.

My train of thoughts halted when he walked in. I inhaled deeply, almost swallowing my heart along.

This is it, Zendaya!

The surprise on his face was obvious; the only time we have collided in the sitting room are on evenings where there are scheduled occasions we needed to attend, and the last official gathering we both attended, had been weeks ago. Aside from that, I really can't recollect the last time I saw him in person.

And we both live in the same house.

"It's good that you are back early. I was waiting for you." I began, shocked at the stiffness in my voice. I held his gaze and kept talking to prevent him from diffusing my boldness. But, he beat me to it.

With a blank look on his face, Asher unbuttoned his suit jacket and sat on one of the couches, crossing his leg.

"This had better be quick." He gruffed out, voice chilling and firm.

Gulping nervously, I squared my shoulder, "I need you to keep your playboy attitude on a low, please. It's bad enough that a married man and the president of a country shamelessly sleeps around. But, I am the one at the receiving end of the insult and mockery. It's a different mold of embarrassment each day and I can't take it anymore. I have become a laughing stock everywhere, people blame me like it's my fault that you don't have an ounce of control and shame in you."

Exhaling, I clasped my hands together, holding it up against my front.

"Please, for my sanity and reputation, keep your escapades in check. Be more secretive, I can't take this anymore."

His long silence had me feeling victorious inside of me; he definitely is going to have a change of heart, judging from the blank emotion in his eyes. He has probably come to realize that he really shouldn't be sleeping around so openly.

"You must be delusional." Asher said to my utmost shock as he stood up, glaring deep into my soul. "Do you know how petty you sound right now? It's your audacity for me. What right do you think you possess to talk to me the way you want or make a request of me?"

I licked my dry lips, my eyes darting around the room for an escape. I could sense the maids hiding in corners to hear our conversation. Asher sure knows how to put up a show, and how to put me in my place, that is.

"Be more secretive. I have become a public joke. Blah, blah, blah." He spat out in a high voice, mocking me without hesitation. "To think you have the guts to stand in my face and lie about things that aren't true to begin with. Just to gain attention from me, hm? How pathetic can you be?"

He took two strides towards me, everything I wanted to say got stuck in my throat. "Your problem is; you can't stand the fact that those women have me and you don't. You are just jealous. And I don't care." A dry laugh escaped his lips as he walked away. "So pathetic."

Hot tears streamed down my face as I tried to hold my breath together. Turning my head to the back, the helps and maids all scurried off. They had obviously been listening in. Gasping shakily, I grabbed my bag and ran off to my room. Shutting the door tightly behind me.

My lips shook as the tear dam opened up, pouring out. I have never been so humiliated all my life. As much as I hate to admit it; Asher was right about me being pathetic. That bastard stood right in front of me and called me all sorts of names. While accusing me of lying. But my miserable self stood there and did nothing to defend myself.

Not thinking, I stood up searching through my things, when I caught sight of a blade, I held it to my wrist, staring at myself in the vanity mirror.

"You know you don't want to. Stop being foolish." A voice that sounded like Asher's mocked me.

I threw the blade away as I fell to the ground, pulling at my hair. I am not just a coward, but a weak, pathetic and miserable being. Ending my life would be the best thing to do, but then I can't even slit my wrist in peace any longer.

I hate it here so much.

Burying my face InBetween my knees, I screamed loudly till I couldn't feel my voice anymore. My room was sound proofed so I was sure the sounds wouldn't be escaping these four walls.

I hate Asher Smith! I hate him with every depth of me. I am never going to forgive him for putting me through this.

My shoulders shook heavily as the tears kept coming nonstop, it feels like there is no end to this. I hate this world I am living in.

Zendaya's POV

My body ached badly as I attempted to stand up from the floor. My legs were cramped together, restricting blood flow. Looking around I realized it was morning; I must have slept off on the floor, while crying last night.

Standing up, it felt hazy and my head ached badly. And I didn't even take any alcohol, but it feels like I am having a hangover. Sighing, I headed to the bathroom. Taking a long look at myself in the mirror, I let out a resigned sigh; I looked like a lost cause.

My hair sprouted out like an unwanted weed, dry mascara stuck to my face making me look like a baby raccoon. My face was blotched from all of the tears. The tears weren't necessary if I am to think of it, but I like to think I deserve to cry out my pains.

Pulling at the hair to straighten it which appears to be a waste of time, I stepped out to look through my closet. Since it's the end of the week; I might as well skip going to that horrible workplace and probably take a long road trip. And if I do get to see a Jamaican who interests me, there is a high probability of me running off with him.

Who was I kidding? That's literally never going to happen.

Sitting in the enclosed space with my thoughts jumbled, my eyes landed on a picture peeping out of my bag. Using the tip of my finger, I brought it out. My heart nearly stopped; right in my hands is a picture of Alexander and I.

The sight of the picture and the thought of Alex had me feeling nostalgic. And the tears were back again, stinging the back of my eye. I sniffed, trying to keep them from falling. I might go blind at this rate with the continuous tears.

My fingers trailed his face, we had taken it at the fun park we had gone to during our college days. My heart ached as the pain of how heart broken he must have felt when I told him it was over between us.

If only he knew how terrible it had been for me. Alexander was the love of my life and still is. I had envisioned my future with him and how we would become parents to two kids and a dog. He was my soulmate, my solace and happiness.

We met in high school, and had been together ever since. We planned our future together and made so many plans with each other. When I had to break up with him in order to get into a contract marriage with Asher, it had broken me completely.

I remember pleading profusely with my parents to pick any of my siblings to marry Asher instead of me. But, they had been adamant and insisted it had to be me. The contract marriage had been between my parents and Asher's parents, I was sure he had also been forced to get into the contract marriage with me, for the perfect, public image he was building.

My whole world came crashing down the day I ended my relationship with Alex. I knew then that I might never find happiness and love again.

Sobbing quietly, I wrapped my arms around my legs holding them to my chest. I felt so lonely, not bothering to stop the tears. I let them flow continuously to ease my pain and guilt. The guilt I felt for breaking Alex's heart was still fresh in my heart, because I know he might never recover from it.

A rasp knock came on the door. I pretended not to hear it at first, thinking the person would go again. But they appear to be really persistent.

Dragging my body up, I returned to the bathroom again washed up my face hurriedly. Applied water to my hair, rolling it up in a rough bun. Judging by my history with gossips amongst the maids, it would be bad to come out looking tattered. They would have a field day discussing about me.

Opening the door, I tried to keep my face hidden a bit. "Yes?" I murmured in a distant voice.

"Good morning ma'am. A delivery came in for you this morning." The help said, handing me what appears to be a packaged box of wine.

"Thanks." I said receiving the package.

A small smile played on my lips as I tried to think of who must have sent it. Sitting on the bed, I crossed my legs underneath me and curiously unboxed the package. A chandon wine was placed inside of it and what seemed like an invitation card.

Picking the card up, I opened the envelope. What my eyes saw was the last thing that would have ever crossed my mind.

I blinked again, and again in shock.

"Alexander... and Blair?" I muttered.

Taking a deep breath, I checked through it again to confirm that I wasn't seeing things. What the actual fuck?! Is Alexander– my ex, whom I was still very in love with, getting married? And not just to anyone, but my friend. My fucking best friend, Blair.

I jerked myself off the bed, pacing around the room with a hand to my head which was already starting to pound. This had better be a joke. Its been less than few months since I broke it off with Alex and got married to Asher. Come to think of it, I and Blair had a lunch date a few days ago. And she told me nothing about her getting married to my ex, whom she knew I was still very much in love with.

That slimy bitch!

I had broken things off with Alex a month ago. Was that when he then decided to get together with Blair? Or, had it been going on way longer before I had called things off with Alex?

I stopped in my tracks as it dawned on me; the two of them had definitely been cheating behind my back while I thought Alex was being faithful to me. The man that I loved with all of my heart and still feel bad for ending things with till today, after so many years that we have been together– had been cheating on me the entire time?

Alex has been my boyfriend since high school, that bastard deflowered me. He took all my firsts. And all this while, he had probably been screwing my friend as well! And not just my friend but my best friend!

A scoff escaped my lips. I still couldn't place the reality together. Then it all came rushing back, those times I would ask for a moment with Alex and he would claim to be busy. Then I would call Blair, and she'd always give an excuse of running an errand.

That implies; they had been spending those moments with each other. Laughing at me for being so oblivious and stupid. They are getting married in a few weeks and still had the guts to send me the invite.

My knees buckled and I was sprawled out on the floor. How could they do this to me? Why does it always have to be me feeling sorry for myself? Not only was I pathetic, I was also stupid as well.

Why does my life have to be so miserable? I am only twenty three years old, and it feels like I have spent half a century with all of the weight of the world on my shoulder. No one finds me worthy of respect at my workplace, my family don't even see me as a part of them. I am more of a commodity.

I have become a laughing stock for everyone, and I make money for media personalities by being a joke. And now, the two people I trusted the most, have taken it upon themselves to stab me in the back. The definition of my life was horrific.

My head spinned as the tears flooded me. Getting up, I have decided to stop wallowing in self pity. I should get something to burn my throat and clear my head of these crazy thoughts. I wish they can all just disappear and I wouldn't have to worry about anyone anymore.

Staggering my way to the study where Asher has a mini bar. I have never heard of a study owning a liquor shelve. Guess only a crazy one like Asher can.

Holding up a bottle of whiskey, I threw myself into the chair, chugging down the content to drown my sorrows. My life is nothing to write home about, after all.

~~~

Asher's POV

A bottle of whiskey would make my day right now. Since I resumed office, this is like the worst days of them all. The people I work with are hell bent on frustrating my life. Stomping the stairs in annoyance, I made my way to the study.

"What the heck?" I mumbled as I opened the study door.

Irritation spread through my face at the sight in front of me. Seeing Zendaya sitted with a blank look on her face, drinking the alcohol from the bottle itself like it was a bottle of coke, instantly irked me.

"Are you here to talk about what happened yesterday? Because need I tell you, you are the last person I want to see right now." I informed her flatly, while wondering what the hell she was doing in here.

With her eyes a bit closed, she nodded while stretching out the bottle towards me. A part of me wanted to refuse it, but then, I have had a shitty day and that whiskey looked like a gift from God himself right this moment, and I found myself regarding her flatly. The whiskey is the only thing that could ease my mind at the moment.

Sighing, I walked towards her snatching the bottle from her. Downing almost half of the content at once, I gritted my teeth as it burned my throat before settling in the pit of my stomach. Taking a seat opposite her, still with the bottle, I threw my head back once again, letting the whiskey kick in.

"Had a bad day?" She slurred.

Raising my head, I almost backed out of my chair when I saw Zendaya hovering over me. She giggled lightly and I scoffed.

Zendaya never giggled, at least, never around me. It was mad obvious that she was currently drunk.

This has been the most closeness I have ever experienced with her. I tried to move past her but she held both sides of the chair, placing wet kisses on my face.

"Come on. I know you want it." She said in a whisper.

My eyesight blurred, the whiskey had begun its journey, travelling through my insides.

"You're quite drunk." I pointed out while downing a few mouthfuls of the whiskey once again.

"Okay, but did anyone ask you? You've ruined my entire life, the least you could do right now is to make me forget this pain tonight." She snapped, jerking the bottle from my grip and chugging some of the content down.

I let out a snort, knowing that I was also already starting to get drunk. I reached out and I retrieved the bottle from her, emptying the rest of the contact in my mouth.

"You bastard–" She screeched, hands outstretched like she was about to fight, but I surprised myself and shocked her by kissing her.

The violence melted out of her instantly, and then she melted when I pulled her against me firmly.

"I hate you so much." She swore against my mouth as she returned the kiss fervently, and once our lips parted, I responded, while my vision swammed.

"Believe me, the feeling is very mutual."