THE CEO PLUS-SIZE EX-WIFE

Despite the chill in the room, an air of unrest and despondency persisted. Valentine Anderson stood by the wall, his distinctively curly hair and pointed nose giving him a handsome yet troubled appearance. Despite his good looks, his face bore a darkness, with furrowed lines creasing his forehead. As he gazed at Andrea Singers who was sitting on the bed, barely gripping the pen, his disgust only deepened.

"How much longer will you stubbornly refuse to sign the divorce papers, ugly fatty? I don't love you anymore, and haven't you had enough of my infidelity?" Valentine Anderson's voice carried an edge of anger as he addressed Andrea Singers.

Gone were the days of endearing names; instead, the mention of divorce had become a frequent occurrence, yet Andrea Singers remained steadfast in her resistance. Valentine had even gone so far as to bring his mistress, Rose Ferguson, into their marital bed in an attempt to disgust Andrea into agreement, but still, she resisted.

Andrea Singers looked up and met the gaze of the man she had devoted her heart, body, and soul to for the past five years. All that remained on his face was disgust and contempt; the man who had once loved her passionately seemed to have vanished into thin air.

Her cheeks trembled as she spoke, "Honey, I don't want to end our marriage; I still love you."

Valentine Anderson's expression darkened at Andrea's words.

She quickly lowered her head in fear, tension filled the room, and Valentine's chest heaved rapidly as he simmered with anger.

The ringing of a phone shattered the tense silence. Valentine reached into his pocket and retrieved his phone.

His dark face lit up in joy when he saw the caller, but as he glanced at Andrea Singers, a look of disdain crossed his sharp features. "Fatty, if you think we're staying married, wake up from your delusion. I won't live with someone who just eats and gets fat," he sneered, his words cutting deep.

With that, Valentine Anderson strode toward the door, leaving Andrea Singers in tears, her forehead glistening with sweat. She stared at the papers on her lap, her distress growing.

She threw the pen away and tossed the divorce papers, the divorce papers fluttered briefly before scattering across the polished marble floor.

Andrea Singers struggled to her feet, her movements resembling that of a rolling meatball as she dashed toward the door. Despite her efforts, it took her three agonizing minutes to reach the door, which was only five feet away from the bed where she had been sitting.

By the time she burst out of the once-loving, glorious matrimonial bedroom, she was drenched in sweat from the exertion.

As she stumbled out, Andrea overheard Valentine Anderson speaking on the phone as he moved closer to the staircase from the doorway. "Rose, I promised you I would divorce that meatball; if my wife hadn't resisted, I would have divorced her long ago," he said.

Andrea stood frozen, unable to comprehend how her marriage had deteriorated so drastically in just five short years.

A few months ago, despite her efforts to regain her shape by hitting the gym, she rapidly gained a significant amount of weight. As a result, her husband, Valentine Anderson, began to distance himself from her. They no longer shared kisses, and their once passionate sex life grew cold.

Valentine started coming home late, sometimes drunk, with the lingering scent of feminine perfume. When Andrea Singers confronted him about this, he mentioned the possibility of divorce.

The more Andrea thought about the situation, the more anxious she became. She ran to the gate, startling the gatekeeper. "Water!" she gasped as she struggled to speak. Her legs, which had grown significantly in size, trembled from the brief run.

After gulping down three mouthfuls of water, she hurried out of the gate and hailed a taxi, leaving the gatekeeper shocked. "Number 23, Downhill Street," she told the taxi driver, breathing heavily and sweating.

Without a word, the taxi driver nodded and started the car. An hour later, he pulled up at the address Andrea had given him.

Anxious and nervous from the lengthy drive, Andrea bolted out of the car, completely forgetting about the fare.

"Miss, you haven't paid," the taxi driver called after her as she made a beeline for the gate.

Halfway there, Andrea halted in realization, her body quivering. She turned back, acknowledging that she had left her purse behind and had no means to settle the fare.

"Miss, please settle the fare," the taxi driver urged as Andrea Singers stood before him, feeling disoriented.

The gate creaked open behind them, and two elderly women emerged. Andrea's energy surged as she turned and called out, "Mother-in-law!"

Mrs. Anderson's expression soured as she instinctively covered her nose, asking impatiently, "Andrea, what are you doing here, looking so dishevelled and sweaty?"

Andrea Singers blushed in mortification as the taxi driver's irate voice cut through their exchange. "Miss, you still haven't paid. How can you enter my taxi and refuse to pay? I assumed you were wealthy, stopping me in an affluent neighbourhood. Who would have thought you were just a fraud? I'll involve the police if you persist in refusing to pay."

Mrs. Anderson, already upset that her fat ugly daughter-in-law had arrived unannounced after she had just finished boasting about her son to her neighbour, grew even more frustrated upon hearing the taxi driver's comments.

She fixed a piercing gaze on Andrea Singers and admonished, "Andrea, if I had known you would turn out this way-overweight and unproductive-I would never have allowed my son to marry someone like you. Aren't you tired of bringing shame upon the Andersons? If word gets out that my son's wife is attempting to defraud a taxi driver, how do you think the media will respond? Show a little dignity, Andrea."

Andrea felt embarrassed and wished she could disappear.

The taxi driver caught up in the difficulties of surviving the economic meltdown in Vegas, didn't have the luxury of time to listen to to Mrs. Anderson scolding her daughter-in-law.

"Madam, if you have the money, please pay me," the driver interjected, cutting through the tension.

Mrs. Anderson shot Andrea a look of contempt before settling the transport fare with the driver. Then, she turned to her neighbour, forced a smile, and addressed her, "Mrs. Wilshire, I will come to your home in the evening."

With that, Mrs. Anderson dismissed the neighbour.

Mrs. Anderson turned sharply to Andrea Singers, fixing her with a piercing gaze that seemed to convey a desire to consume her whole. Her lips curled in a sneer as she spoke, "Andrea Singers, I fail to comprehend what my son sees in you. You are overweight, unattractive, and sorely lacking in the grace expected of a president's wife. Do you truly believe yourself worthy of my son?"

In a flustered state, Andrea Singers hastily replied, "Mother, I apologize. I'm terribly anxious and distressed, which is why I hurried here in such a state. I even left my car behind, there's something of great importance that I need to discuss with you."

Despite her disdain for Andrea Singers, upon hearing her words, Mrs. Anderson relented and extended an invitation inside the house.

Once settled in the living room, Mrs. Anderson observed with growing irritation as Andrea fidgeted nervously, her fingers twisting together in silence for the past two minutes.

"Andrea Singers, have you come to visit me just to twiddle your fingers? Are you so bored with overfeeding that you've come up with such a grand idea?" Mrs. Anderson snorted impatiently, gazing at the once-beauty who had reigned over Vegas for years, now looking like a shadow of her former self. She found it unbearable.

Andrea Singers had once been a source of her pride and boasting, but now she is the source of her mockery and ridicule.

Mrs. Anderson couldn't bear looking at her face any longer. "Speak up! If you have nothing to say, then leave!" Mrs. Anderson lost her temper and shouted.

Andrea Singers' entire fleshy body trembled as she struggled to kneel before Mrs. Anderson. Gritting her teeth, she gathered the courage to speak. "Mother, you know how much I love Valentine. Lately, he's been cheating on me with another woman; I even caught them together in our bed. Despite everything, I still love him. I don't want to divorce him. Please help me talk to my husband."

Mrs. Anderson's face lit up with joy as she hadn't anticipated Valentine divorcing Andrea. It was evident to her that her son had finally come to his senses.

Turning to Andrea, she exclaimed, "Just look at yourself! No man would want to marry a woman who is overweight and unattractive. If you had taken better care of yourself, things might have turned out differently."

Andrea's face, streaked with tears, betrayed her shock as she struggled to comprehend that her previously supportive mother-in-law could utter such words.

Mrs. Anderson wasn't done yet, she went on, "Andrea, infidelity should never be tolerated in a marriage. If my son is being unfaithful, you should divorce him. It's better for both of you to end things sooner rather than later. A marriage should be based on trust, loyalty, and love. If those things aren't there, what's the point of staying in such a marriage?"

Andrea Singers was stunned by Mrs. Anderson's words, which made it clear that her mother-in-law supported her son's actions. Without hesitation, Andrea sprang to her feet and exclaimed, "No, I will not divorce Valentine; I will not give up on my husband."

With a sense of urgency, she turned and hurried out of the room, leaving Mrs. Anderson to sneer at the sight of her trembling figure. Despite Andrea's dramatic exit, it took her a while to finally leave the room, her departure marked by disdainful silence.

Outside Anderson's home, Andrea ran anxiously, convinced that staying any longer would cost her not just her happiness, but perhaps even her life.

As she fled, she realized she had no money for her transport back home.

As she turned around, the gatekeeper met her gaze with a sympathetic look. "Miss Andrea, it seems you're short on transport fare to get home. Please take this and use it for your journey," he said, as he stepped forward and placed some crumpled dollar bills into Andrea's open large palm.

Tears welled up in Andrea's eyes as she looked at the gatekeeper's kind gesture. Sensing her emotional response, the gatekeeper offered words of comfort, "Mrs. Andrea, there's no need to cry. You must stay strong. If you lose hope and give in to weakness, you'll never achieve anything with that kind of mindset."

Andrea took the gatekeeper's words to heart, expressing her gratitude before hailing a taxi and heading to the location of Benita Valentine's younger sister's shop.

After marrying Valentine, Benita had become very close to Andrea Singers, but recently their friendship had cooled. As Andrea settled the taxi fare, Benita, accompanied by two female friends, spotted her.

"Isn't that your sister-in-law?" asked one of Benita's friends.

Benita's expression soured. "Don't talk nonsense. How could that overweight, unattractive woman be my brother's wife? My brother's wife is the most beautiful lady in Vegas."

Upon hearing Benita's words, her friends fell silent, unwilling to provoke her further. Benita, adamant in her refusal to acknowledge Andrea as her sister-in-law, instructed the manager to prevent Andrea from entering the store.

"Mrs. Andrea, I'm sorry, but Madam Benita isn't in the store right now. Perhaps you should come back later," the polite security doorman informed her. He couldn't believe that the woman he had always admired whenever she visited the store had become obese.

"I'll wait for her here," Andrea Singers replied, her head lowered in embarrassment. She felt too ashamed to meet the security doorman's gaze after realizing what he might be thinking.

The scorching summer sun beat down relentlessly, and when the security doorman refused to let Andrea Singers into the building, she settled down by the door to wait. As time passed, her movements became sluggish, and exhaustion weighed heavily upon her, lulling her into a deep, drowsy state.

Benita grew increasingly incensed as Andrea continued to doze by the entrance to the store.

She thought Andrea was intentionally causing a disturbance.

"Benny, even if you don't consider her your sister-in-law, she's still your brother's wife; you can't let her sleep outside like that. People will start gossiping about it," one of Benita's friends cautioned.

Benita's expression darkened.

She was about to offer a sharp reply when her phone suddenly began to ring. Her heart sank as she glanced at the caller ID, causing her to hesitate before answering the call.

The angry voice of Valentine came from the phone's speaker, "Benny, have you lost your mind? How could you allow my wife to sleep outside your store? If anything happens to Andrea, I'll never forgive you. I'll cut off all my financial support and disown you as my sister."

The call abruptly ended after Valentine had finished venting his fury. Benita sat in disbelief, shocked by her brother's actions. She never expected him to defend a wife he wanted to divorce, let alone threaten her.

"Benny, you should..."

Benita shot her friend a sharp look before exploding in anger, "Both of you get out!"

Her friends were taken aback by her outburst, staring at her in disbelief.

Benita was even more irritated by their facial expressions. Through gritted teeth, she repeated, "I said get out! Both of you, are you two deaf?!"

Despite sending her two girlfriends away, Benita still felt furious and sought to vent her anger. She instructed the manager to bring in Andrea Singers.

When Andrea was brought in, she wore a fawning smile, showing no offence at being previously barred from entry. She even took the initiative to greet Benita, "Benny, you are looking pretty, and your shop has grown over the years. I am proud of you."

Benita's arrogance only grew as she looked down at Andrea, dismissing her greeting. After instructing her to sit down, she asked coldly, "Andrea, why are you here?"

Andrea fell to her knees, tears streaming down her face. She pleaded pathetically, "Benny, we've been friends since we were kids, and you know how much I love your brother. Can you talk to him? I don't want to divorce him."

Benita's disdain for Andrea was already palpable, the words that escaped her lips only deepened her revulsion.

She couldn't help but snort with contempt after a fleeting moment of laughter. "Andrea, have you even glanced in the mirror lately? If you had, you wouldn't be so insistent on continuing your marriage with my brother."

Benita wasn't done mocking Andrea, she continued "Andrea, there ought to be a limit to your greed. You're simply not suitable or deserving of my brother. It's time for you to make a bit of sacrifice and let go of your marriage to him."

Perhaps due to mounting frustration or the impact of Benita's words, Andrea's laughter took on a manic edge, causing Benita to feel a twinge of unease. With a scoff, Andrea exclaimed, "Sacrifice?"

Her tears now flowing freely, seemed to form a torrent. "I provided the capital Valentine used to start Val. Corp. I even resigned from my position as secretary general of Wilson Group to personally assist him in building up the company. And your brother repaid me with a divorce. What more sacrifice could you possibly expect from me, apart from my very life?" Her voice thundered as she spoke these words.

Benita calmly sipped her tea, seemingly unaffected by Andrea's emotional outburst. Setting her cup down, she inquired, "So, what now, Andrea?"

With a disdainful sneer, she continued, "Do you honestly think my brother would have chosen to marry you if you held no value? Do you still hold any worth? What gives you the right to continue being my brother's wife? Rose Ferguson is prepared to grant the Eastern Waterfall Project to my brother and invest five hundred million dollars into his company. Can you offer my brother anything comparable?"

As Andrea listened to Benita, her hope and resolve waned. She rose unsteadily, not waiting to be dismissed, and staggered toward the exit, feeling like a balloon slowly deflating.

Even after she left the store and into the streets, Andrea remained dazed and unable to collect her thoughts, her legs moving without conscious direction.

She never thought a day like this would come, a day she would be told to her face that Valentine was divorcing her because of money.

Andrea Singers was jolted awake by the sound of screeching tyres and a shout, causing her to faint. When she regained consciousness, she found herself in a hospital bed, surrounded by faint voices that gradually became clearer as she became more alert. "Sir, you need to take better care of your wife," she heard someone say. "If not, she could lose the baby. She's been under a lot of stress, and it's not good for the unborn child."

Andrea sat up abruptly, locking eyes with the doctor in the lab coat, her expression filled with shock. "What did you just say?" she demanded.

The doctor furrowed his brow but maintained his professional demeanour. "Madam, you need to prioritize your health," he advised. "You're already a mother, and it wouldn't be good to lose your first child."

Andrea Singers couldn't believe her ears as the doctor spoke. With a face filled with disbelief, she mumbled, "How is that possible? I've never vomited or felt dizzy, and never suffered any symptoms of pregnancy. It can't be." After muttering, she shook her head in denial.

The doctor smiled and calmly replied, "The symptoms of pregnancy can vary. I believe your increased appetite may be due to your pregnancy, especially considering your weight."

Andrea didn't wait for the doctor to finish. She swiftly got out of the hospital bed, ignoring the hospital gown. Without glancing at the two strangers standing quietly in the ward, she made her way to the exit.

"Madam, where are you going?" the doctor called after her retreating figure, but all he heard in response was the creaking shut of the ward door.