A YEAR WITH THE BILLIONAIRE

CHAPTER 8

I don't want children. But I can't tell my mother. I can't also tell her my reasons. They might not sound genuine but it is what I want.

I venture into the house, taking off my suit and holding it firmly in my left hand while the briefcase has been taken by my butler, with the laptop bag I gave to Fred.

"Welcome, sir. Your mother is here", the head maid, Sandra mentions to my hearing as she lowers her head in respect.

I raise a brow. Mother is here? What good timing!

I was just thinking of taking a bath and calling to inform her that I have something to share with her.

I know she would be glad but I will look beyond that and go ahead with my plan. I need to prove to her that I don't need a woman in my life and that I am going to be fine without getting married.

Marriage isn't a bed of roses like they all think. My mother's marriage might be one but I don't see it as one.

There are ups and downs in marriage, trials, tribulations, and challenges that come knocking on your door.

Marriage can't be as sweet as it first started. The love will be deduced at a point in time and the end of the day, it will crumble.

The attraction between both partners will fade away. Divorce will set in like it is happening all over the world today.

My bigest client, Safina, couldn't attend our board meeting last week because her husband was demanding a divorce.

All of these scare the shit out of me and I can't go on and let the pain come back once more.

Helena was my only true love and I can't find anyone like her ever again. She is gone.

Forever.

Gone with my heart. Now I have no heart to love anymore.

"Son", Mother gets up as soon as she sees me approaching the large living room downstairs. I couldn't take the staircase to my room because of the announcement that my mother is around.

"Mother", I open my arms and we embrace.

When she disengages from the hug, I watch her face and notice that she isn't looking cheerful.

"What's the matter?" I question, moving away to sit down on one of the sofas.

"Nothing, I am fine", she replies but I know she isn't.

A pretty 50 years old woman who is always with a smile on her face is telling me nothing has happened yet she looks like someone who is grieving.

I think I know what this is all about.
Instead of insisting that she tell me what the problem is, I rest my hand on my elbow and ignore her.

"Jayden", she calls with a pout. "Won't you ask me why I am sad?"

I roll my eyes. "I thought I just did?"
She sniffs. "Something happened. Something beautiful. I am supposed to be happy but I am not."

What a drama queen!

This is why my father doesn't joke with her. The understanding and communication between them is out of the world. I enjoy their type of love and I was brought up to believe in true love.

I did believe but fate has a lot in stock for me. Fate took its course, leaving me broken and alone to pick up the pieces of my shattered heart back into place.

My life hasn't remained the same since two years ago. A lot has changed about me, including the fact that I no longer believe in love and fairy tales.

"Won't you ask what it is?" She attacks again, with a sad face.

I facepalm myself and ask. "What is it, mom?"

"Caroline gave birth to a princess last night", she cries in joy and I watch a tear roll down her eyes.

Caroline is the same cousin who gave birth a year ago, making my mother begin to pressure me into getting married.

It's just a year and she is already pregnant? I scoff inwardly.

"The baby is so pretty and Caroline is extremely glad that it's a girl. They plan to name her after me, you know? Isn't that sweet?"

"It is, mother", I agree with her, despite my initial intention to ask her if it is the same Caroline that gave birth to a set of twins last year.

I already know she is the one, there is no need to ask again. Since she has told my mother that the baby will be named after her.

Caroline's mother and my mother are siblings but her mother Grace died years ago before Caroline got married to her Italian chef husband.

"Won't you ask me why I am sad?"

"Why are you sad, mother?" I ask, meekly like a dove.

"It's because I wish you were the one whose wife gave birth. I would have been over the moon if that was the case. Jayden, please do this favor for me before I die. I want to see my grandchildren, I want to see you happy again", tears begin to roll down her eyes.

I begin to feel uncomfortable seeing her in tears. She knows how much I hate seeing her cry.

"Mom, I told you to give me time, right?" She nods.

"The clock is ticking already. I will soon be 51, your father will be 60 by the end of the year and we don't have a grandchild yet. It's unfair."

"Do you want me to make a wrong choice of a wife?" I ask her pointedly with a firm tone.

"What? Of course not", her eyes grow large and she wipes her tears.

"Good", I nod my head. "That is why I am taking my time."

"Ok", she only says and looks down sadly.

Silence falls with the two of us not saying a word to each other. I want to tell her about Isabella but I don't know how to put it to her.

I can imagine how glad she would be when I revealed to her that I am getting married soon.

I guess I will leave the privilege of choosing the wedding date to her so she can be more excited about the whole thing.

"Mother?" I call, ready to declare my intentions to her but she isn't answering me.

I know the trick to use.

"I have good news for you", I announce and my trick worked. She jerks her head up, rushes to my side, and gazes at me expectantly with a look of curiosity.

I smile inwardly.

Gripping my arms, she asks "Good news? What good news?"

"Yes", I utter with a smile teasing my lips like a man who can't wait to be married to the love of his life. "I am planning to get married to...."

She rises sharply, interrupting me from completing my statement, and begins to laugh in happiness.

I don't know when I start to smile too until it turns to a big grin as she twirls around the living room in joy.

When she stops, she is already breathing heavily like someone who just done a marathon race, she hurries to my side again and demands from me. "Who are you getting married to?"

The hope and curiosity are back on her countenance and I blurt out. "To my Assistant, Isabella."

It takes a while for her to absorb what I have just said and when she does, she exclaims loudly with eyes wide open and jaws dropped. "What?!"

****
Will the billionaire's mother allow him to marry his Assistant?

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