THE BILLIONAIRE'S WIFE

Chapter 4

Chapter 4

"Hello, how are you?" asked the woman who resembled me as she approached me.

I can't think of anything to say. I was taken aback. How did we end up having the same face? How is this possible?

"I'll leave now." The nurse smiled and left the room. Leaving me alone with this stranger who looks like me.

"It appears you're fine," she stated, observing me. "Apart from your injured leg."

I cleared my throat, trying to find the right words to use. I just stared at her, bewildered. We looked so similar that the nurse assumed that we were sisters, or, should I say, twins?

Aside from our faces, I presume we are the same height, as I am 5 feet and 6 inches tall. Her hair, on the other hand, is a long, wavy blonde. My eyes are bluish, while hers are hazel. Her body is like of those supermodels—slim but sexy.

"I know what you're thinking." She noticed me checking her out.

She bit her lower lip seductively. Her make-up is stunning. She looks more beautiful and sexier in her outfit.

"How is it possible?" I wondered, finally finding my words. She grinned at me and settled on the couch in front of the bed, which had a small table in the center.

She sat on it, placing her left leg on top of her other leg. She's only wearing a tight, sexy dress, revealing her flawless thighs.

"I don't know either; my parents never told me I had twins; are we twins?" she asked, perplexed.

"Perhaps not," I replied, puzzled. Her brows furrowed, and I spoke again, "We have different eye colors, and our hair is different."

She burst out into laughter, and I looked at her, surprised at her outburst. "Oh, about my hair? I just dyed it into a blonde one. We have the same hair; the only difference is our eyes," she explained after regaining her composure.

She opened her shoulder bag and took a cigarette. She put it in her mouth, and she was about to light it when I interrupted her. "This is a non-smoking area."

She puts her lighter on the table and holds the cigarette between her middle finger and pointed finger. "Oh, sorry, I didn't realize you were so obedient," she apologized, but her voice didn't sound apologetic.

"It's bad for your health," I said, my voice barely audible. She laughed and looked at me, amused.

"You paid my bills," I stated again when she didn't respond to what I said earlier.

She shrugged her shoulders and looked at her painted fingernails.

I sighed and said, "I owe you."

She stopped examining her fingernails and looked at me blankly. "Don't mention it," she muttered indifferently.

"I know it's too much to ask, but can I use your phone? I need to call my mom. I don't know where my backpack is, my phone was inside of it."

I need to call my mother. And what time is it? Oh, I don't know. My eyes looked around the room, hoping I could see a wall clock.

"Here." She handed me her phone.

I was startled because I hadn't realized she was now standing next to me. I took her phone and looked at the time; it was ten in the morning. I exclaimed and quickly dialed my mother's number.

In just one ring, she answered the phone.

"Hello?" Her voice cracked when she answered the phone. I can tell that she's crying.