A YEAR WITH THE BILLIONAIRE

CHAPTER 46

I wish I could turn back the hands of the clock. I wish things were different. I wish I was more understanding and sincere. Maybe this wouldn't have happened and the woman in my room now would still be Helena and not Isabella.

Maybe we would have given birth to more kids as we have always wanted. Maybe I wouldn't have this dislike for kids. 

Just maybe. Maybe things would have been different.

I squat down, a deep wrenching pain hitting my guts and sinking deep into me, letting a loud yelp escape my mouth and more tears flowing down my eyes.

I don't want this.

I don't want to feel this guilt anymore. I want to heal. I am tired of being miserable. I am exhausted from all of this and I want nothing but peace with myself and the ability to forgive myself for all I have done.

In fury, I get up and face the mirror. Staring back at me is no one but the monster who caused his fiancée's death and their unborn child.

My breathing becomes heavy and the tear does not cease. I raise my fist and smash it into the mirror, breaking it into pieces while they pierce my skin.

I want it all out.

Not bothering about nakedness, I drive my injured fist back into the wall, hitting the wall severally with both hands as my anger builds up to the highest momentum.

Bloody red colors splash the wall, making a flash of what happened come to my head.

The blood that came out of her head, even though her eyes were still open. The way she tried to say something to me. How she tried to hold onto me before death stole her away and left me broken.

I loved her. I didn't mean for her to die. We had many plans. We wanted to have as many kids as possible.

We tried so hard to make things work. She was gentle. I was stubborn. She was understanding but I wasn't. She was honest but I was insincere. She was sweet and I was nothing but wicked till the very end.

I scream and bury my face in the stained wall, crying hard like a child deprived of his sweet.

I haven't cried for two years. I haven't felt this much agony in two years. I thought I was strong but I am not.

I have just been pretending to have it all in control. I have just been pretending to have a hold on my emotions.

I scream again, pushing myself further into the wall, wishing for it to open and swallow me in so this can end.

The door makes a sound and reality crash on me that I am not alone in here. I am not alone. Isabella is here and she must have heard it all.

I stop struggling and quiet down, breathing heavily and wiping my tears with the back of my hand.

I turn to the shower and put it on again to wash everything.